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Chapter Text

For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

T.S. Eliot  /  The Hollow Men

KINGDOM COME!
( ❝ did i say that yet? ❞  )
THE FINAL FALL!
( ❝ i get on your nerves? yeah. ❞ )

━━ ELISA BARDALES, after months of searching, finally found her boyfriend. She was happy, don't get her wrong, but she knew hell was also coming. Despite what Apollo had said, the Prophecy of Nine was upon them in a matter of months, not in a matter of seventy years.

               ( She was still angry about that. Talk about false hope. )

               Shit had been going wrong since Percy's disappearance, eight months prior. It had started with his disappearance; then it was the quest to save Hera; then learning of Gaea's wish to rise and rule the world ( what was up with this immortal deities trying to rise back to power again? ); then Elisa learned that, like Jason, Percy had been kidnapped to a safe place for demigods ( something called Camp Jupiter—sounds like a stupid name to her ) and that he had no memories. She can't lie, her world shattered a bit more after hearing that.

               Elisa was terrified of seeing Percy. What if he didn't remember her? Jason had no memories, why would Hera give Percy any slack ( especially considering the fact the goddess hated the son of Poseidon )?

               In the end, she would still have to swallow her fear and face the boy she had been searching for, even if it would kill her to learn the fact he didn't even know her name or what they had been. Then to have her best friend go on a quest for something people always have died trying to find? ( And for Percy to say that Elisa needed to get rid of her "savior complex"—please, Elisa had one? The son of Poseidon should look inward! )

               The point is, Elisa was having a horrible time. She was having to come to terms with something she had rejected, she had to accept the fact that she had the ability to control madness. Who wanted power like that? It was horrible; you felt like something worse than human, something that people should be wary and afraid of.

               For better or for worse, Elisa had to accept the fact she was a formidable foe because for her powers and not just her ability to wield a spear.

━━ ABILENE BRIAR would like to claim the trophy for having the "Worst Mother of All Time". Seriously—have you met Abilene's mom? She had, and Gaea was horrible! First, she lies to her own daughter, pretending to be Ceres. Second; Gaea tries to kill her friends, like, all the time. Third; now that Abilene has ( sort of ) disowned her mom, Gaea was making her life even worse than hell. Abilene had lost her powers, the one thing that made her powerful. Without the earth, she offered nothing. But the earth was an enemy now.

               Abilene felt something worse than fear. She wasn't sure what to call it, but it was haunting her like a bad day. She's terribly paranoid, scared that she might be the cause of her—shitty—mother gaining power. And if she is, that would mean she would be at fault for the entire world collapsing in on itself. ( Talk about the pressure! )

               And not only is Abilene scared, but she's also angry—rightfully so, in her opinion. She had been lied to, led on, fooled like the idiot she was, and denied powers she had just been able to gain control of. Embarrassingly enough, she was also angry at her inability to just open her mouth and tell her crush how she felt.

               Not that it mattered of course. Abilene had a nasty feeling that whether she and her friends won the war, Gaea was going to show her daughter why you should always listen to your mother.

WHEN IT COMES TO KINGDOMS ...

❝ THE WRATHFUL ❞
ELISABET ❛ELISA❜ BARDALES
( as described in the fic )

❝ how romantic! i love fighting
for my life as a date. ❞

DAUGHTER of DIONYSUS: Dionysus is the Greek God of Wine, Grape-Harvest, and Madness. He is the son of Zeus and Semele; his Roman counterpart is Bacchus. Famous for his birth, Dionysus was sewed to his father's thigh after Hera tricked Zeus to reveal his divine true for to Semele and her body burned away. ( Horrifically, Dionysus stayed there until he was ready to be born—as a demigod, no less. ) But most well-known for his invention of wine ( which would ultimately lead him to become a god and an Olympian ); when Hera learned of Dionysus's survival, she cursed him with madness, ultimately causing him to wander the lands, where he learned how to harvest grapes to create wine. So moved by this invention, the Olympians offered Dionysus immortality and a seat on the council. Symbols often associated with Dionysus are grape vines, his silver goblet, and his thyrsus.

❝ THE IDIOT ❞
PERCY JACKSON
( as described in the fic )

❝ isn't it? i'm so thoughtful, grape girl! ❞

SON of POSEIDON: Poseidon is the Greek God of the Sea and Earthquakes, and the second of the three sons of Kronos and Rhea, making him one of the oldest and most powerful Olympians. Involved in many Greek myths, some of the most notable that have withstood the test of time are his challenge—and loss—for possession of the city of Athens and the story of his birth ( and ultimately being swallowed by his father ), and his fight against Kronos alongside his siblings. Symbols often associated with Poseidon are horses, dolphins, and his Trident.

❝ THE VENGEFUL ❞
ABILENE BRIAR
( portrayed by raffey cassidy )

❝ i win the trophy for shitiest
mom, just so we're all aware. ❞

DAUGHTER of GAEA: Gaea is the primordial Goddess of the Earth; her Roman counterpart being Terra. Gaea is the ancestral mother of all life. She is the mother to many, but one of her most notable children is her son Ouranos ( primordial God of the Sky ), from whom she also had ... many other children—these children being the Titans, the Cyclopes, and the Giants. Ouranos and Gaea's son, Kronos, was destined to overthrow his father like how Zeus was destined to overthrow his father, Kronos. And Gaea hasn't changed much over the millennia, either—she helped her son Kronos overthrow Ouranos as she has been helping the giants try to overthrow the Olympians. Symbols often associated with Gaea are grain, fruit, and the earth.

❝ THE HOPEFUL ❞
FRANK ZHANG
( as described in the fic )

❝ you know, i can't argue with that. ❞

SON of MARS: Mars is the Roman God of War; his Greek counterpart is Ares. A son to Juno and Jupiter, and one of the most widely respected and revered of all the Roman deities; as the father to Romulus, the founder-king of Rome, many consider Mars to be the "father of Rome", honoring him as "Mars Pater" ( "Father Mars" ). More disciplined, militaristic, and warlike than his Greek counterpart, which is shown by his focus on martial victory rather than sheer conflict, like Ares. Mars also functioned as a god of the citizen-soldier who farmed his own land, thought to protect the person's crops and livestock from disease if—or when—they went into battle. Symbols often associated with Mars are plumed helmets, boars, and his spear.

❝ THE BRAINIAC ❞
ANNABETH CHASE
( as described in the fic )

❝ i'm supposed to be wise, not ... weak! ❞

DAUGHTER of ATHENA: Athena is the Greek Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy. Her Roman counterpart is Minerva. The goddess Athena is a calculating goddess—weighing all options before she made her decision. As such, she was revered for her wisdom and unmatched intelligence. Many myths and legends involve the goddess, however, two of the best known are the story of how she was born ( sprang to life from Zeus's head wearing full battle armor ) and the story of how the city of Athens was named. Symbols often associated with Athena are owls, spears, olive trees, and Aegis.

❝ THE FORGETFUL ❞
JASON GRACE
( portrayed by cameron brodeur )

❝ no offense taken ... you
aren't insulting me, right? ❞

SON of JUPITER: Jupiter is the Roman God of the Sky and the King of the Olympians, and the third and youngest son of Saturn and Ops, making him the most powerful Olympian. His Greek counterpart is Zeus. Involved in many Roman myths and one of the most common catalysts for Roman tragedies. One of the most well-known stories is the tale of his birth; his mother Ops, haven saw her husband swallow all of her other children, gave Saturn a stone to pass off as Jupiter. The god was raised in a cave, and prophecied to kill his father—and he did, after a long, long war. Symbols often associated with Jupiter are eagles, his scepter, his aegis, and his Master Bolt.

❝ THE MISFITTED ❞
PIPER MCLEAN
( as described in the fic )

❝ brains, beauty—all the
same, don't you think? ❞

DAUGHTER of APHRODITE: Aphrodite is the Greek Goddess of Love and Desire; her Roman counterpart is Venus. Although one of the twelve Olympians, she is neither a daughter of Rhea or Kronos and neither the offspring of Hera and Zeus; Aphrodite appeared in the aftermath of Ouranos's murder ( the murderer: Kronos, his son—it's a family thing ). Kronos killed and chopped his father into pieces with his scythe, and as those pieces fell into the ocean, they created sea foam, and from that foam, Aphrodite was born. A well-known story, but there is an even greater talked about story involving Aphrodite—the Trojan War. A great catalyst in the war, she offered Helen's hand in marriage to Troy, but she was already married, but Aphrodite didn't care about that. And well ... the ending of the Trojan War is well-known. Symbols often associated with Aphrodite are roses, doves, and her girdle.

❝ THE ELF-EARS ❞
LEO VALDEZ
( portrayed by xolo maridueña )

❝ i'm the machine boy, not muscle boy! get it right! ❞

SON of HEPHAESTUS: Hephaestus is the Greek God of Fire and the Forges; his Roman counterpart is Vulcan. The story of his birth differs depending on who is telling the tale, but one thing is for certain; Hephaestus was cast from Mount Olympus once it was discovered he was bestowed with quite an unsightly appearance. Many know the god to have tossed Hephaestus off to be Zeus, but the God of Forges claims his own mother, Hera, was the culprit ( and that she spreads the version of Zeus to paint her in a better light ). No matter which tale you've heard, Hephaestus believes his mother to be the one who cast him away. As the God of Craftsman, Hephaestus had a "gift" to bestow Hera upon his return. The "gift" was thrones for all the other Olympians, but Hera's was made to bind her to the throne once she sat down. Only Dionysus, after getting Hephaestus drunk, could convince Hephaestus to finally free Hera ( and the mother and son made "peace" ). Symbols often associated with Hephaestus are donkeys, anvils, and his heavy hammer.

❝ THE BEJEWELED ❞
HAZEL LEVESQUE
( portrayed by corinna brown )

❝ i carve my own path, hecate.❞

DAUGHTER of PLUTO: Pluto is the Roman God of the Dead, Riches, and Lord of the Underworld; his Greek equivalent is Hades. The eldest offspring of Saturn and Ops, he is one of the most powerful gods. Not involved in many myths, Pluto does have some that have stood the test of time and are pretty well known; one is his fight against Saturn alongside his siblings, which the gods ultimately won, and another well-known myth is the kidnapping of Prosperina and eventual marriage. Symbols often associated with Pluto are cypress trees, serpents, and his Helm of Darkness.

THEY ARE BUILT TO FALL!

lola tung! ... delaney mcknight!
young!skandar keynes! ... nico di angelo!
as described! ... octavian!
kiko mizuhara! ... drew tanaka!
as described! ... castor & pollux winward!
as described! ... will solace!
as described! ... rachel dare!
wyatt oleff! ... travis stoll!
finn wolfhard! ... connor stoll!
as described! ... reyna ramírez!
as described! ... thalia grace!

i. disclaimers! i own nothing in the percy jackson and the olympians and heroes of olympus universe besides elisa bardales, abilene briar, delaney mcknight, their stories, and any other characters i have made. everything else you see in this book that is not original to this fanfiction belongs to rick riordan. all rights go to him, besides elisa bardales, abilene briar, and delaney mcknight, and any contributions they make to the story.
               any gifs used in the book do not belong to me, they belong to the original creators. i have simply edited the size of them to fit what i want. the graphics, although, do belong to me.
               one more thing, this is the 3rd book in the tyranny trilogy — the first book being royal cries and the second being olden crown. you don't have to read those books before this one to understand things that go on in this, but i highly suggest you do read royal cries and olden crown! it'll be easier for you to understand the motivations of certain characters (elisa, abilene, and delaney), the new characterization i've given to characters (piper and drew), and i will allude back to events that were in the first book that were not in the source material (percy jackson and the olympians and the first two books of heroes of olympus).
               last thing, i swear — there will be main characters who die, non-cannon and cannon characters. you've been warned, and i put in bold so hopefully this will be the thing that grabs your attention. do not act blindsided when there are characters that did not die in the original books that die in this!

ii. trigger warnings! this book will talk about and/or include cussing, the neglection of a child, mental illness (depression, anxiety, ptsd, etc.), death, gore, and the regular percy jackson and the olympians and heroes of olympus themes that are present in the original books.
               do not read this book if any of that is trigging to you. reading this is not — and never will be — more important than you and your mental health!

iii. other things! if i get anything incorrect or come off as insensitive, please tell me and i'll absolutely fix my mistake!
               also, don't steal! that's not cool. i'll find out and i'll make you ... take it down or something.

iv. other notes! i'm dreading this ... but also incredibly excited at the same time. it hasn't hit me yet that were on the last fic, but i feel it come. it'll be here soon. probably at the end of act one.
               and i'm sure you all can assume why that is lol

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ prologue

━━ ABILENE KNEW WHAT was going to happen—she was going to have a nightmare, and her mother was going to “fuss” at her. ( It felt almost … silly to say fuss considering her mother wants to destroy the entire human population, but here Abilene was. )

               But that’s not what happened. Not even in the slightest—well, except for the fussing part. But Abilene figures the Goddess of Childbirth would be good at fussing over children.

               “Juno,” she greeted, her voice wobbling.

               The goddess wasn’t seven-foot-tall now ( thank the gods ), and that was probably one for one reason—they were on the front porch of the Briar house back in Montana. Out before them, Abilene spotted the long and windy gravel driveway they had to take to and from ( Abilene hated that driveway … ). The outside of the house was paneled with white, and she could see the years of wear and tear on them—most if not all, panels had a thick layer of grime and dirt on them. Once, Abilene had gotten in trouble with her father for dragging her fingers through the dirt and drawing pictures or her name in the dirt. Only her stepmother, Raleigh, was what got her out of serious trouble.

               “Stepmothers,” Juno spoke suddenly. “How do you feel about your step-mother?” She made sure to put extra emphasis on the word step.

               Abilene shrugged, leaning against the wooden railing on the front porch. When she was around ten, her father had given himself the task of painting the railing white, but he had given up halfway through. 

               “Raleigh’s … nice enough,” she admitted. “She made a really good apple pie. She even gave me Monroe, my half-sister.”

               Juno looked up, her brown eyes swirling with … Was that blues and greens? Her eyes were swirling with the colors of peacock feathers. “You don’t hold resentment against Raleigh?” She asked the question like she couldn’t believe there was a kid out there like that.

               Abilene shook her head. “No, Raleigh was nice to me. I mean, for a time, yeah—but it wasn’t because of her. When she first started dating my dad, he … ignored me. I think he liked to forget he already had a family.”

               The Goddess of Marriage’s face was tight, and half of the reason had to be because of her hairstyle—her bright blonde hair was pulled away from her back neatly, and the long hair was piled on top of her head in a ballerina-esque bun. The expression made Abilene nervous—even more nervous. She couldn’t tell if Juno’s face was just stuck like that, or if the goddess was shimmering with anger because Abilene has a stepmother.

               “But Raleigh was always really nice to me,” she added. “Even when my dad was sort of …” she took a deep breath and looked out from the Briar house’s front porch, “ignoring me. She never made me feel like I was taking up too much space or anything. She also never tried to be my mom, either. I think it’s because she has her own stepparents. She knew what it was like.”

               She still couldn’t read Juno’s face, so she looked out—the farm was still the same. The green grass, the rolling hills, the faraway barn that was getting ready to collapse, the newly built barn George Briar used to store all sorts of barncats and farm equipment. She even saw the grazing cows over on the other side of the house, along with the horses in another field that Raleigh had added when she moved in. It made her nostalgic, and she felt the tears start to prick in her eyes. Abilene really wanted to go back home, back to her old life.

               “This place does look like a haven for Ceres,” admitted Juno, who was gently rocking in the rocking chairs placed out there for George and Raleigh. “No wonder.”

               Abilene looked sharply at the goddess, her crossed arms dropping. “I didn’t know,” she said defensively. “And it wasn’t like Ceres said anything—”

               Juno raised her perfectly manicured hand. Her nails were filed into a soft almond, and were gleaming with a clear polish. “The gods are limited in what they can do, Abilene Briar. But I admit … you are right. You didn’t know, and when you learned, you fought for the gods.” She looked at Abilene fully, her eyes glazing between turquoise blues and soft greens. “I commend that. I also commend you and Percy Jackson for bringing back the eagle.”

               Abilene frowned. “So … what, then? Why talk to me?”

               The goddess raised her eyebrows. “You wish for Gaea to speak with you?”

               “Well—no,” Abilene choked out. “I just …” She shrugged. “I figured she would after I stopped her and Alcyoneus.”

               “Then, perhaps, thank me?” offered Juno. “Gaea would have if I didn’t speak with you. And she wouldn’t be any sort of motherly. Gaea doesn’t know how to be motherly …”

               “But, really,” insisted the brunette. But she hastily added; “Lady Juno. Why speak to me?”

               “I came to tell you,” said the goddess, “that I commend you for your wise decision to fight with the gods. It is easy to fall into the traps your parents lay. Look at my father, Saturn—he was convinced by Gaea to kill her husband, Caelus. Then, Saturn gave into his fears that he would have his karma—that me or one of my siblings would overthrow him.”

               “But he was right,” added Abilene. “I mean, Jupiter did overthrow Saturn.”

               “But that calls in the great debate if Jupiter ever would have if Saturn hadn’t eaten me and my other siblings,” replied the goddess. “Do you think he would have, Abilene Briar?”

               The brunette shrugged awkwardly, rubbing her arm. “I don’t know, Lady Juno,” she admitted. “Fate is … fate. We don’t know what would have happened if Saturn didn’t swallow you and your siblings. So … why dwell on it?”

               The Goddess of Marriage raised her eyebrows at the demigod. “Not many have that mindset, Abilene. And it is understandable why—I often find myself wondering the very question. If Saturn hadn’t feared the prophecy, would things have turned out the way they have? Would Jupiter have become king, and would I have become his wife? Then, would I have become the Goddess of Marriage and Childbirth?”

               Abilene sucked in her bottom lip, chewing on it. “That’s … hard to say, Lady Juno. I try not to argue with fate.”

               “But you dislike fate,” countered the goddess. “You dislike your mother, you dislike how you are Gaea’s daughter. You dislike having to fight monsters, you dislike having to fight your own mother. Family is tricky. It is hard to keep family together when things become so complicated.”

               “Why do you call her Gaea?” Abilene asked. “Why not her Roman name, Terra?”

               “The same reason Thanatos is called Thanatos and not Mors or Letus,” admitted Juno. “We Romans don’t want to admit how close our ties are to Gaea. We want to let her stay Greek. And …” she breathed out, “I fear it would only make Jupiter’s mood far more sour if we call her Terra—or if we speak of the war ever …”

               “Lord Jupiter still thinks Gaea will still fall back asleep?” asked Abilene.

               “He will—until he hears she has a daughter, and that she has led that daughter to Camp Jupiter,” admitted Juno. She looked back to Abilene, whose jaw was clenched tightly. “But you have proven your loyalties, Abilene Briar. And for that, I am thankful.”

               “Are any of the other gods?” grumbled the brunette. “What does Ceres think of me? Gaea’s daughter going around claiming she was Ceres’s daughter for two years?”

               “Do not focus on what the other gods think,” advised the Goddess of Marriage. “What makes the family the strongest is what is best for that family, even if others don’t agree. And you are doing what you know is best. That shows your care and love for this family—for the gods.”

               “I don’t think the gods agree with that, Lady Juno,” admitted Abilene.

               Juno stood, looking almost like a regular mother—if you ignore the fact her eyes were shimmering like peacock feathers, or if you ignore how she had perfect skin. “And do you think my family agrees with everything I’ve done for them? For family, you make great sacrifices.”

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME  ━━   ACT ONE

━━ Set during the Mark of Athena!

Starting now!
melpomelody © 2024

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter one

━━ ELISA DIDN’T PRAY. Not to the gods, or God, or anything else that might be out there. The gods, the ones who had been messing with her life since she was born; they had never helped her before, so why would they help her now? Even when Percy was stolen from her six months before, that hadn’t changed. She took it upon herself to look; she did what the gods refused to do. She went out looking because of the gods—the gods stole Percy, and for six long months at that.

               From December to June, Elisa looked. Or she was helping—building the Argo II—so they could go and find Percy. It was more than the gods could say. She counted each moment over the months, too—the months, the weeks, the days, even down to the amount of hours she had lost with him. It was obsessive, and they say madness and obsession go hand-in-hand. She didn’t want to say it was an obsession, but the way she clung to those memories of Percy … 

               It was for her own mind—to keep those memories in mind as she searched and searched, and as she found dead-end after dead-end. She kept thinking of his smile, voice, his laugh, the feeling of his arms wrapping around her waist or shoulders. Her own mind went into overdrive to protect itself; she started remembering things about Percy people really couldn’t remember—the way he smelled, the smell of ocean air. She knew the smell so well she couldn’t stomach walking near Cabin Three ( gods forbid, even inside the cabin ). 

               She couldn’t even escape the memories in anything she did—at the campfire, she would think of how he would always reach over and steal her perfectly toasted marshmallows, or of how he would loudly sing the campfire songs in her ears, or how he would bump their shoulders together to make her move along with the song. And after the campfire, walking back to Cabin Twelve, she would think of him—how he would walk with her, interlock their hands, swing their hands until they had enough momentum until they nearly popped their shoulders out of the sockets. And when they made it to Cabin Twelve, he would hug her ( practically break her bones while at it ) and then he would kiss her, and she would kiss him ( even though Elisa totally wanted to gag even just thinking that; what if someone read her mind? ). Even worse, after that kiss, Elisa would be on a high—it was like someone knocked her upside the head, and if she wasn’t so happy with him, she’d be grossed out by herself. 

               Elisa was used to running—from Durango, from monsters, from Brain Anders, Kronos and his army, even her own feelings, and especially her own mind. And she wasn’t a person of many words—words that weren’t sarcasm or scathing—but Percy helped her with that. He helped her stay grounded, helped her not be so blinded by her anger—her wrath—

               Then he was gone. Like poof. And all that work Elisa had put into helping herself not be so blinded by wrath was thrown out the window. Without him, Elisa felt like only air was beneath her feet. And she experienced that before—years ago, the winter she first met Percy, while flying on the back of some bronze statue’s shoulders. If you want to know, that’s not a fun feeling. With Percy … gone, she didn’t know what to do. She had only known him since she was fourteen, but after going on two quests, you learn who a person is. And as sad as it sounds, he had been one of the most consistent and good things in her life since … forever. She had good people in her life; Silas Flowers, but he died protecting her. She had some years with Callum Belshaw, but … he’s also dead. And Nico … but she hasn’t heard from him for almost as long as Percy’s been missing; of course, Elisa was worried, but Nico was evasive, and he has been since Bianca’s death. There was Grover, Annabeth, Thalia, Drew—people from Camp she knew she could fall back on. But those people who were still with her, she didn’t meet them until she met Percy.

               After two quests and a war, you know you can rely on a person. Elisa knew that no matter what, Percy had her back. And after everything they had been through together, he was the most consistent thing. Something so real; so solid; so … there. And after everything else she had lost, and she hadn’t lost him yet, she didn’t think she could. Naïve, she knows that now, but that doesn’t change the trust she had in that belief. And that trust was built on the fact Percy always was there since she was fourteen, even when she was a total asshole to him. She could see how his fatal flaw glued them together—no matter what, he refused to let her become lost in madness. He played hero to a fault, even if Elisa did admire it about him.

               But he was taken, stolen from right under her nose. And it felt like someone carved her heart out with a dull, rusty knife. Elisa had grown so used to the comfort and security brought, and with him gone, she felt abandoned—lost, alone, and in desperation. She felt like she was twelve all over again—running from the burning apartments that used to be her home, running from Maurelle, running from the destruction she had caused. She felt like she had nowhere to go all over again, and this time, there was no Callum Belshaw to turn to.

               Elisa had been a runaway kid since she was twelve ( even if, because of Dionysus, she wasn’t considered one anymore ), and from twelve to fourteen, she was a kid on the streets. From twelve to fourteen, she was practically like a wild dog—snapping, clawing, and sinking her teeth into anything she could get her hands on. All in the name of survival. All in the name of making it to Camp Half-Blood. It took her forever to feel like she was human again, and sometimes still, she doesn’t.  And despite the years on the streets, the six months of looking and waiting for Percy were the longest six months of her life.

               They were so hard because she knew he was out there. Somewhere. And even while she was on a quest ( to save Hera ), she still couldn’t find him. She knew what Hera had done, and she knew no matter how much she looked, she wouldn’t find him—because Hera didn’t want him to be found. That didn’t make the months easier, and it only made her fatal flaw rear its ugly head … her ugly head? It was Elisa’s fatal flaw, after all. She didn’t do well with patience, and she didn’t do well knowing it was Hera’s fault, and she really didn’t do well with fear. Fear is the mind-killer. She couldn’t help but fear that when the day finally came, the day she would finally get to Percy, he wouldn’t remember her at all.

               Elisa wasn’t Athena’s daughter, but she had enough of a mind to know that would kill her.

               Elisa wasn’t one for heights, but she couldn’t stop staring over the edge of the Argo II. It wouldn’t help her see Camp Jupiter any faster, and she knew it would make the ship fly any faster ( and neither would yelling at Leo, but Elisa was tempted to snap at him ). It felt like her heart was trying to break her ribs, and it if did—her heart would break out of her chest and fly over the edge of the ship.

               Maybe that would just be easier than … this.

               Everyone had left her alone all morning, too. She could feel their eyes on her back, and she kept having the urge to swat like flies were buzzing around her head ( even though it was just the worried glances of her friends ). She knew they were worried, and she didn’t blame them—it looked like if just one gust of wind breezed by, Elisa was going to snap into a million little pieces. She knew Annabeth and Piper were talking to each other, trying to figure out how to start a conversation with her; she knew Jason was stepping back and letting Elisa be worried, as he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t in a space to talk; she knew Leo was trying to be as quick as humanly possible to get them where they needed to go.

               As grateful as Elisa was that they all cared, there was a hard truth in that moment—if anyone spoke to Elisa Bardales, someone’s nose was going to get broken or she was going to completely break down into tears. And she hated crying in front of people, so the outcome was probably going to be someone’s nose being broken.

               Anyone’s mind was prone to wandering if left unchecked, but Elisa felt like as Dionysus’s daughter and having inherited his … tendencies to madness, her mind a thousand times worse. No matter how far Elisa ran from the word “Percy” today—and, boy, did she run—she couldn’t escape the thoughts. Her mind wandered, and she was terrified. What if Percy was like Jason; with no memories of anything? What if he didn’t even know his own last name? What if he had no memories of who his dad was? What if he didn’t remember Sally? ( And how was Elisa going to tell Sally Jackson her son doesn’t know his mother? ) And as selfish as it was, Elisa worried most about herself: What if Percy Jackson had no memories of Elisa Bardales?

               She knew, without a doubt, if that’s what happened—if Elisa found him in that blasted Camp Jupiter, and she ran to him and he looked at her like she was a … stranger—she would shatter like a piece of stained glass. She couldn’t handle that. Her mind would snap, and probably for the final time.

               Elisa could hear Annabeth pacing the deck of the flying warship, the Argo II. She was double-checking—probably triple-checking, knowing Annabeth—everything, and mainly, the ballistae to make sure they were down. They couldn’t just waltz ( fly? ) into an enemy camp with a warship and have that stuff out in the open. She even triple-confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast. And Elisa knew why Annabeth was doing it—to keep her own nerves in check. Percy wasn’t her boyfriend, but they had known each other since they were twelve. And if Elisa and Percy weren’t obligatory best friends simply because they’re dating, Annabeth ( and Grover ) are Percy’s best friends. Maybe even Annabeth would consider Percy a brother. No matter what she did consider him, Annabeth and Percy were family.

               If he even remembered any of them. But Elisa didn’t add that part.

               Everyone could tell it wasn’t just Elisa stretched thin with nerves. After going over the plans as a crew five times in a row, it wasn’t hard to tell that Annabeth was just as rigid. Annabeth was a person of planning, but even this was becoming just a little too much. But that’s how the daughter of Athena was—her mind went so fast ( not because of madness ), but because her mind was like a library. Organized and neatly and tidy. She knew what had to be done, and when it had to be done. That’s why she even had their more violent crew member take the morning off in his cabin to watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing anyone needed was Coach Hedge running out as they flew their Greek trireme into a hostile Roman camp, all the while waving a club and yelling "Die!" 

               Elisa’s fingers twisted with the bracelet Dionysus had given her last August. The bracelet that Maenad had Origami-d its way out of during December. That bracelet. She still wasn’t comfortable wearing it, and even less so now that she knew what those two theater masks held. But she also remembered what Dionysus had told her when he gave it to her; “It will be with you. When you feel that everything else is lost.”

               She would never imagine thinking this, but her father, God of Madness, was starting to make sense. It—the Maenad, whatever—had been there when Elisa was feeling lost in battle against those Earthborn.

               Elisa went stiff as an unfamiliar ( and unwelcomed ) chill crawled down her spine. Her fingers tightened around the bronze shield attached to the hull, and she glanced over her shoulder quietly. No one was behind her, but she couldn’t stop staring. She knew that feeling … Or, at least, it was familiar. She knew when it came to unreliability, most people would consider her unreliable when it came to seeing things. You know, as Dionysus’s daughter; but she knew that chilling feeling. 

               She took a deep breath and looked out from the Argo II. Her nerves, she tried to reason. It was probably her nerves. The warship descended through the clouds, but Elisa couldn't stop thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong: What if this was a bad idea? What if the Romans panicked and attacked them on sight? What if Percy wasn’t even here? What if he failed on the end of his and Jason’s so-called “bargain”? She didn’t want to doubt Percy, but still—

               The Argo II definitely was not a friendly-looking vessel. It was two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete ... Elisa wouldn’t blame that Roman camp for wanting to shoot it out of the sky.

               They had tried to let the Romans have a warning—a gigantic warship was going to fly into their camp, don’t shoot. Annabeth asked Leo to send one of his special inventions: a holographic scroll that would make Daedalus jealous he hadn’t thought of it ( well … before he died )—to alert their friends inside the Camp. Elisa had wanted to be in it, but once Leo started recording, she froze. And then she had accidentally blurted out Elf Ears … That was probably not a good welcome to whoever viewed it besides Percy.

               It was now officially too late to turn back. Elisa wasn’t sure if she had ever wanted to run more in her life.

               The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpeted pastures of the Oakland Hills below. Elisa let go of the bronze shield she held and wiped her hands off her jean shorts. Around her, the others took their places.

               On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. In typical Leo-fashion, he hadn’t been satisfied with the regular pilot's wheel or a tiller—no, he also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers super fast.

               Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines. "Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk …" Her charmspeak had grown tremendously over the months since their quest to save Hera. Her words flowed through Elisa, relaxing her mind for a second, and that second was dangerous—she had the urge to dig out Acantha from her back pocket and Scion from her belt and toss them over the edge.

               Annabeth was still doing extra checks on everything she could think of. She stopped by Elisa, counting the shields strapped to the side of the Argo II. Her braided hair was pulled out of her face and off her neck now. Elisa knew not to bother the daughter of Athena—she was nervous, and when nervous, needed to keep her mind busy. At least she was counting inventory and not bossing them around this time.

               Then there was Jason, and Elisa was finding it odd to see him without Delaney. She knew it would happen; Delaney, back in December, claimed she was one of the nine ( even if she did have a part to play, according to her father, Erebus ); but that doesn’t mean Elisa liked it. She had grown used to Delaney being around. She could tell Jason missed the daughter of Erebus, too; he kept spinning the silver ring Delaney had given him for Valentine’s Day.

               Jason stood at the bow on the raised crossbow platform, where the Romans could easily spot him. His knuckles were white on the hilt of his golden sword. Otherwise, he looked calm, but Elisa knew it was an act. She knew he must be terrified. While she was anxious to find Percy and see if he remembered her after months, Jason was terrified his home didn’t remember him after being gone for months. Over his jeans and orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he'd donned a toga and a purple cloak—symbols of his old rank as praetor. Elisa only hoped the Romans didn’t take offense to that.

               Elisa looked back out, but she had to force herself to look at the ground and not the blue sky. She pursed her lips, wondering what gods were watching this time. Probably Hera, knowing her … involvement in everything. Despite her, Elisa wondered if her dad was watching. If he was, she had a pretty good idea he wasn’t going to be helpful. But she remembered what Hera had told her and the others last December—Zeus had closed off any interactions between the gods and their children ( not that there were many interactions to begin with ).

               She felt it again—that familiar shiver, that shockingly cold breath crept down her back. For a second, she thought she heard faint laughter. Every muscle in her body tensed. Something was going to go terribly wrong. 

               Elisa almost ordered Leo to reverse it—then, in the valley below, horns sounded. The Romans had spotted them. There was no going back now.

               Despite having months with Jason trying to explain Camp Jupiter to her, Elisa still didn’t know what she expected. He told her about the buildings, the sleeping quarters, the temples, and the extensive training grounds to build the best warriors of the century. He even told her about New Rome—a safe haven for demigods once they had completed their years of service at Camp Jupiter. At New Rome, they could attend college, buy a house … they could live a normal life: get married, have children, grow old, never have to worry about surviving and fighting monsters. Jason explained to Elisa in great detail the process Percy would have to go through, if he started out like a normal demigod at the Wolf House. Still, even seeing it with her own eyes, she struggled to believe Jason was telling the truth.

               Ringed by the Oakland Hills, the valley Camp Jupiter sat in was at least twice the size of Camp Half-Blood. A small river snaked around one side and curled toward the center where it emptied into a sparkling blue lake. Directly below the ship, nestled at the edge of the lake, the city of New Rome. It gleamed under the sunlight, and Elisa had to wonder if Apollo had taken special interest today. She recognized even more landmarks Jason had told her about—the hippodrome, the Colosseum, the temples and parks, the neighborhood of Seven Hills with its winding streets, colorful villas, and flowering gardens. Elisa was enamored to see grounds that looked like they belonged to an elementary school’s playground, to see cafés and bookstores, to see a college, a small football stadium. What shocked her most was the neighborhoods. Actual neighborhoods, with winding streets, colorful villas, fenced backyards, kids running around, kids on bikes, and parents gardening. It was an entire city where demigods could live normal, peaceful lives.

               Elisa felt a strange ache in her heart. Never once in her life did she think about the future beyond the next day. Even in Durango, she didn’t. For as long as she can remember, she was only worried about getting to the next day, not … college. Not even high school, really. Not mortgages, not kids, not even marriage. Even at Camp Half-Blood, where she did live a much safer life, those thoughts never crossed her mind. But to see this …

               The people in New Rome—who were demigods like her—were living a life Elisa never thought could be possible. 

               The strange ache crept down to her stomach, and she felt the nasty sting of envy. All these people were living a life she didn’t even know was possible for half-bloods.

               Elisa stopped herself from thinking about it by focusing on other things—she could tell the Romans had a recent battle. The evidence was there; the dome of what had to be the Senate House was cracked open. The forum's broad plaza was pitted with craters. Some fountains and statues were in ruins. 

               Dozens of kids in togas were streaming out of the Senate House to get a better view of the Argo II. More Romans emerged from the shops and cafes, gawking and pointing as the ship descended from the sky. Elisa spotted a young child, holding her mother’s hand and jumping up and down excitedly as she pointed to the ship. 

               About half a mile to the west, where the horns were blowing, a Roman fort stood on a hill. It looked like it was taken right from the Gladiator and plopped in the middle of California—the fortress was lined with a defensive trench lined with spikes, high walls, and watchtowers that were armed with scorpion ballistae. Inside, perfect rows of white barracks lined the main road—the Via Principalis. 

               A column of demigods emerged from the gates, their armor and spears glinting as they hurried toward the city. In the midst of their ranks was an … war elephant. 

               Elisa wanted to land the Argo II before those troops arrived, but the ground was still several hundred feet below. To not bite Leo’s head off, she gripped the edge of the ship and scanned the crowd. Despite the terror coursing through her, she wanted nothing more than to find Percy. She looked for a glimpse of unruly black hair—

               Then something behind her exploded.

               The explosion almost knocked her overboard. Elisa cursed, spinning around to find herself face-to-face with an angry statute.

               "Unacceptable!" he shrieked. 

               Elisa blinked at him, taken aback at the sight of a talking statute. It seemed he had burst into existence on that very spot, with sulfurous yellow smoke rolling off him. Cinders popped around his curly hair. From the waist down, he was nothing but a square marble pedestal. From the waist up, he was a muscular human figure in a carved toga. 

               "I will not have weapons inside the Pomerian Line!" he announced in a fussy teacher voice. "I certainly will not have Greeks!" 

               Elisa coughed, waving the yellow smoke out of her face. “¡Hosita puta! The hell are you?”

               Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say—even if he knew Spanish or not. She thought the statue would break into a million pieces of marble he was so furious. “How dare you?!” he screeched, his face curled with fury. “You arrogant, blind, Greek—”

               "Terminus!" Jason shouted over the insults, rushing forward to stop between this so-called Terminus and Elisa. The daughter of Dionysus scowled at the statue from over Jason’s shoulder for all the insults. "It's me. Jason Grace." 

               The statue stopped glaring at Elisa and looked fully at the blond. There was no change in his livid expression. "Oh, I remember you, Jason!" grumbled Terminus. "I thought you had better sense than to consort with the enemies of Rome!" 

               Jason looked shocked Terminus had smiled at the sight of him. "But … they're not enemies—" 

               "That's right," Piper jumped in, her expression frazzled.. "We just want to talk. If we could—" 

               "Ha!" snapped the statue. "Don't try that charmspeak on me, young lady. And put down that dagger before I slap it out of your hands!" 

               Piper glanced at her bronze dagger, which she'd apparently forgotten she was holding. "Um … okay,” she started slowly. She quickly and quietly glanced at his armless sides. “But how would you slap it? You don't have any arms." 

               "Impertinence!" There was a sharp pop! and a flash of yellow. Piper yelped and dropped the dagger, which was now smoking and sparking. "Lucky for you I've just been through a battle," Terminus announced haughtily. "If I were at full strength, I would've blasted this flying monstrosity out of the sky already!" 

               "Hold up!" Leo stepped forward, wagging his Wii controller in Terminus’s face furiously. "Did you just call my ship a monstrosity? I know you didn't do that—" 

               Before Leo could attack the statue with this gaming device ( and Elisa helped him while at it ), Annabeth stepped forward with her hands raised to show she had no weapons. "Let's all calm down. I take it you're Terminus, the God of Boundaries. Jason told me you protect the city of New Rome, right? I'm Annabeth Chase, Daughter of—" 

               "Oh, I know who you are!" The statue glared at her with its blank white eyes. "A child of Athena, Minerva's Greek form. Scandalous! Might I add? You Greeks have no sense of decency. We Romans know the proper place for that goddess."

               Annabeth’s jaw clenched and jutted out painfully. Her grey eyes flared like storm clouds. Instead of going the Elisa and Leo route ( see in: pissing Terminus off ), she took a deep breath. "What exactly do you mean, that goddess? And what's so scandalous about—" 

               "Right!" Jason interrupted, his hands spread out in front of himself. "Anyway, Terminus, we're here on a mission of peace. We'd love permission to land so we can—" 

               "Impossible!" the god squeaked. "Lay down your weapons and surrender! Leave my city immediately!” 

               “Which is it?" Leo asked, raising his eyebrows at the god. "Surrender or leave?" 

               "Both!" snapped Terminus. "Surrender, then leave. I am slapping your face for asking such a stupid question, you ridiculous boy! Do you feel that?" 

               "Wow …" Leo studied Terminus with professional interest. "You're wound up pretty tight. You got any gears in there that need loosening? I could take a look." He exchanged the Wii controller for a screwdriver from his magic tool belt.

               “How about we let him spend a day with the Party Ponies?” offered Elisa, rolling her eyes as Leo stepped forward and tapped the statue’s pedestal. “That’ll loosen him up.”

               "Stop that!" Terminus insisted. Another small explosion made Leo drop his screwdriver. "Weapons are not allowed on Roman soil inside the Pomerian Line." 

               "The what?" Piper asked. 

               "City limits," Jason quickly translated. 

               "And this entire ship is a weapon!" Terminus added. "You cannot land!"

               Elisa glanced over her shoulder and back down to the valley. Below them, the legion reinforcements were halfway to the city. The crowd in the forum was over a hundred strong now. She watched the crowd, looking for weapons or potential threats—Her mind blanked, and she turned around, ignoring the way Terminus was still fussing. Everything she worried and mulled over as they flew across the country to reach California all slipped out of her ears like melted wax. Everything was worried about, and every sound stopped reaching her ears. Her vision tunneled like she was looking through a telescope. He was there, and she was stuck on this stupid ship with an annoying statue that had no arms.

               Even from this far, Elisa could recognize him—the black hair, even the laugh she might have only imagined. She even recognized the way he walked. She swallowed harshly, her shoulders squaring again. She watched him walk towards the ship with his arms around three people, grinning at them like they were all best friends—a stout boy with a black buzz cut and a sheepish smile, a girl with brown hair and shining blue eyes, and a second girl donning a Roman cavalry helmet over dark and curly hair. Percy looked so at ease … so happy, and so at home in a purple cape just like the one Jason one—the mark of a praetor. 

               Elisa’s heart crawled into her throat. Her hands tightened around the edge, and her knees grew shaky. Annabeth grabbed her arm like she was afraid the daughter of Dionysus was going to leap right over the edge and run for him. And the fear was warranted, Elisa felt like doing exactly that.

               Annabeth looked over to Leo. "Leo, stop the ship," she ordered the son of Hephaestus. 

               He frowned. "What?" 

               "You heard me. Keep us right where we are." 

               He pursed his lips, but listened—he pulled out his controller and yanked it upward. All ninety oars froze in place. The ship stopped sinking and came to a standstill in the sky. 

               "Terminus," Annabeth said, turning back to the god, "there's no rule against hovering over New Rome, is there?" 

               The statue pursed his lips tightly. "Well, no ..." His tone was very unhappy at the answer.

               "We can keep the ship aloft," offered Annabeth. "We'll use a rope ladder to reach the forum. That way, the ship won't be on Roman soil. Not technically." 

               The statue pondered this offer. If he didn’t decide fast enough, Elisa was going to get the ladder herself—without Terminus’s, Go ahead.

               "I like technicalities," he admitted. "Still ..." 

               "All our weapons will stay aboard the ship," Annabeth promised. "I assume the Romans—even those reinforcements marching toward us—will also have to honor your rules inside the Pomerian Line if you tell them to?" 

               "Of course!" Terminus said. "Do I look like I tolerate rule breakers?" 

               "Uh, Annabeth …" Leo said, his voice unsure. "You sure this is a good idea?" 

               Elisa made up her mind. She unsheathed Scion and grabbed Acantha from her back pocket. She tossed them over, and they landed at the base of Terminus’s pedestal. She then placed her hands carefully at her side, looking over the side of the Argo II. That cold feeling was still there, haunting her like a bad dream. It floated just behind her, and now that Terminus was no longer shouting and causing explosions, she thought she could hear the presence laughing. 

               But Percy was down there … He was so close. She was so close. 

               Annabeth managed to lock eyes with Elisa. She nodded to her friend. "It'll be fine," the daughter of Athena decided. "No one will be armed. We can talk in peace. Terminus will make sure each side obeys the rules." She looked at the marble statue. "Do we have an agreement?" 

               Terminus sniffed. "I suppose. For now. You may climb down your ladder to New Rome, Daughter of Athena. Please try not to destroy my town."

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Elisa hated to admit it—she froze at the top of the ladder. It was like her legs stopped working, and she couldn’t get them to start. Her heart was racing, and she felt bare without Acantha and Scion on her. But this was the deal: no weapons inside the Pomeranian Line ( or whatever it was called ). And she had to honor the deal to find Percy.

               Piper pushed her by the small of her back, and Elisa had to climb down. Annabeth was the very first down, then Jason, then Elisa. Piper and Leo climbed down after her. Elisa stood there for a moment, staring back at the sea of hastily assembled demigods. She could’ve stood there all afternoon, suddenly fine with waiting to find Percy. However, Piper linked her arm with Elisa’s, and she was forced to trail after Annabeth and Jason. The Camp Jupiter demigods parted for the five as they walked through the forum. Some looked tense, some nervous. Some were bandaged from their recent battle with the giants, but no one was armed. No one attacked. It reminded Elisa of when new campers showed up at Camp Half-Blood—staring, not in awe, but trying to decide whether this new camper was going to cause trouble for them.

               Entire families had gathered to see the newcomers. Elisa saw couples with babies, toddlers clinging to their parents' legs, and even some elderly folks in a combination of Roman robes and modern clothes. All these people … Elisa was already fine with being a part of the crowd, of being “normal” by demigod standards, but she wanted nothing more than to turn invisible. It didn’t help that she felt envious of them—of being able to live. Just live. 

               At the far end of the crowd, Elisa spotted Tyson, Percy’s Cyclops brother, and his hellhound, Mrs. O'Leary—who had been the first scouting party from Camp Half-Blood to reach Camp Jupiter. Elisa hated to admit it, but she wanted nothing more than to go with them, but deep down she knew she couldn’t; Percy had to do this on his own. But at least Tyson and Mrs. O’Leary looked to be in good spirits. Tyson waved and grinned, wearing an SPQR banner like a giant bib. Elisa felt some of the heaviness lift from her chest, waving back to the Cyclops.

               He was trying to point someone out to Elisa, and she craned her neck to try and see—but someone else caught her attention. In front of her, the demigods made way for a girl in full Roman armor and a purple cape. Dark hair tumbled across her shoulders. Her eyes were as dark; black like obsidian.

               Reyna.

               Elisa’s shoulders squared, and Piper shared a glance with her. She tried to look intimidating, strong, and as battle-ready as possible. The only way to prove yourself was to make yourself match evenly with the leader. And there was no doubt Reyna was the leader—with medals decorating her armor, and the way she carried herself with such easy confidence that other demigods backed away and averted their gaze.

               Reyna had a hard set to her mouth, and she raised her chin high like she was ready to accept any challenge; it was something Elisa tended to do herself. She and Reyna considered each other, and Elisa’s eyebrows pinched, unsure as to why she felt the need to intimidate someone Jason had spoken highly of. But she felt tense, on edge, and she took a deep breath, trying to not look so rigid. 

               Around her, Elisa’s friends were fanning around. Piper dropped their interlocked arms, but she still stood close by. Jason stood in the middle of the five, and the Romans murmured his name, staring in shock and awe.

               Then someone managed to push their way to the front of the crowd. He wasn’t aggressive about it, but people still parted for him. He used his height to look over people’s shoulders, slipping between others—all the way until he slipped into Elisa’s line of view, and every act of intimidation she put on dropped.

               When he caught her eye, Percy smiled at her—a bright, beaming smile that made her heart sputter to a stop. It was the same sarcastic, troublemaker smile that had bugged her for years; for years until it became endearing and a soft spot. Her jaw jutted out, and her throat burned. He was just as she remembered him. And after months, everything she fought for was standing right there. Right in front of her. With his sea-green eyes and his messy black hair, he looked like he just come from a walk on the beach. He was taller; leaner and more muscular. The six months had changed him, but he was still Percy. He was still her Percy. 

               Everything in Elisa froze. It was like Khione had prodded her with a frozen cattle prod. She couldn’t move, just watching him with a mixed expression of happiness and heartbreak. He was right there, but he was wearing such Roman clothing. He looked so at ease in this enemy camp.

               During their separation, something had happened to Elisa. She wasn’t sure how to explain it, but it was painfully intense. She thought of him constantly; dreamt of him, even. She clung to every piece of him she still had—old sweatshirts she stole, photographs taken of the two of them, even the letters they had exchanged. What she felt for him, whatever it was, had grown painfully intense—and it scared Elisa. There were times she found it hard to breathe without him there. And now he was. She had grown accustomed to the aches of his absences, but they were always unwelcomed. Now that he was there, she didn’t know which would be more excruciating—living with that horrible absence, or being with him again.

               Reyna straightened, adjusting her purple robes. With apparent reluctance, she turned toward the blond beside Elisa. "Jason Grace, my former colleague ..." She spoke the word colleague like it was a dangerous thing. "I welcome you home. And these, your friends—"

               Percy took one step forward, and Piper decided that was a good time to hook her arm behind Elisa and push her. She stumbled forward, but that seemed to be enough for him—Percy surged forward, hurrying past Reyna. He eventually broke out into a run, and the crowd tensed. Some reached for swords that weren't there.

               Percy reached her and threw his arms around her. He held her tight—excruciatingly—like he was trying to envelop every part of her. Elisa didn’t care, holding her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around him. He smelled of the ocean air, and the tears building in her eyes fell. She clung to his robes, unable to stop all the pent-up emotions from coming out. She let out a small sob as Percy placed his lips on the top of her head and took a deep breath.

               He pulled away and cupped her face. He quickly kissed her—a rushed, small kiss, but one that felt starved of her. She could tell he had the same desperation she had. He broke away, but he still held her face.

               She said the only thing that came to mind: “So you remembered me.”

               Percy chuckled, and it was practically music to Elisa. He stared at her, brushing dark curls out of her face so he could see every feature—so he could memorize her face all over again. “Really?” His tone was teasing and light. “You think? You think I could forget you, Grape Girl?

               Tears pooled in her eyes again. She quickly wiped at them. “It was a long six months, Chico Pez.”

               His grin damped slightly. “Tell me ‘bout it.”

               He settled beside her, keeping an arm across her shoulders. Every fiber of Elisa buzzed with excitement and familiarity. She tried to ignore how people were staring. They hadn’t lost their boyfriend for six months.

               Percy didn’t even let go when he went to Annabeth. “Hey, Wise Girl,” he greeted, shooting her his troublemaker smile. “How bad did everything go down?”

               The daughter of Athen narrowed her eyes on him, but her face broke out into a smile. She held out her hand and they carried out the overly complicated handshake they created some years back ( on Percy’s insistence, mind you ). “Pretty bad,” she decided. “But … we got through it. Besides—it was your fault.”

               He rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever. Blame the guy who got kidnapped.”

               Jason loudly cleared his throat, and Percy stopped to look. "So, yeah …” The blond glanced in Elisa’s direction, but she shot him a look. “It's good to be back."

               He introduced Reyna to Piper, who looked a little miffed that she hadn't gotten to say the lines she'd been practicing, then to Leo, who grinned and flashed a peace sign. He then introduced Annaebth, who nodded respectfully.

               "And this is Elisa," Jason said. "Who … knows Percy.”

               She scowled at him slightly. “Don’t be sarcastic. It’s not a good look on you, Blondie.”

               She saw Leo hide a laugh by ducking his head. Percy grinned to himself, and Elisa buzzed happily. She was happy; a lot happier than she had been since … well, since she last saw Percy. But she quickly composed herself by clearing her throat. She held out her hand. “Uh, yeah, sorry. It’s Elisa, like … Jason said. He described you well, Reyna.”

               Reyna clasped her hand firmly. "It seems we have a lot to discuss. Centurions!"

               A few of the Roman campers hustled forward—Elisa figured they were the senior officers. Three kids appeared on Percy's other side, the same ones she had seen him chumming around with earlier. She tensed up, not expecting them to get close so soon, but she could see them better now. The stout Asian boy looked awkward on his feet and in his skin, and Elisa chalked it up to the … situation. He had a kind face, and this sense of modesty about him; like he had a senior title, but wasn’t going to boast about the power the title gave him. The brunette girl beside him had a youthful face—pale skin that was painted with brown freckles. She looked the same age as the boy, fifteen, and seemed just as tense as Elisa had felt before Percy was there. Her blue eyes scanned Elisa like she was trying to read the girl’s thoughts. Elisa looked at the second girl—she looked around fourteen, but her amber eyes held an age that was far older than she appeared. Despite the age in her eyes, she still held an air of youthful mirth to her that Elisa envied. Her long black hair coiled around her face, and she kept brushing it out of her way as she tucked her cavalry helmet under her arm.

               Elisa could tell from their body language that they felt close to Percy. They stood by him protectively, and she suddenly felt out of place. Jealousy started to crawl into her throat, and she swallowed harshly. Stop it, she told herself. Percy trusted them, then so can I. She noticed the fourteen-year-old was staring at something else, and she looked to find it fixed on Piper and Leo. She looked like she recognized one of them, but that it was painful. Dreadfully painful.

               Meanwhile, Reyna was giving orders to her officers, "... tell the legion to stand down. Dakota, alert the spirits in the kitchen. Tell them to prepare a welcome feast. And, Octavian—"

               "You're letting these intruders into the camp?" A tall guy with stringy blond hair elbowed his way forward. "Reyna, the security risks—"

               "We're not taking them to the camp, Octavian." Reyna flashed him a stern look. "We'll eat here, in the forum."

               "Oh, much better," this Octavian grumbled. He seemed to be the only one who didn't defer to Reyna as his superior, despite the fact that he was scrawny and pale and for some reason had three teddy bears hanging from his belt. "You want us to relax in the shadow of their warship."

               "These are our guests." Reyna clipped off every word. "We will welcome them, and we will talk to them. As augur, you should burn an offering to thank the gods for bringing Jason back to us safely."

               "Good idea," Percy butted in, leaning forward slightly. "Go burn your bears, Octavian."

               Reyna looked like she was trying not to smile. "You have my orders. Go."

               The officers dispersed. Octavian shot Percy a look of absolute loathing. Then, he turned to Elisa, narrowing his eyes on her with suspicion. Before she could do anything, the scrawny boy marched away.

               Percy’s arm slipped from her shoulder, and he quickly interlocked their fingers. "Hey, don't worry about Octavian," he told her gently, leaning down to whisper to her. "Most of the Romans are good people—like Frank, Abilene, and Hazel here, and Reyna, too. We'll be fine."

               Elisa looked at him, her expression as hard as marble. That cold feeling was back, and it was pressing her closely. She heard that whispering laughter again, and she had the horrifying thought that the damn thing followed her off the ship. 

               “What happened, Percy?” She couldn’t help herself but to ask. “I mean, the full story. Not the messy one Tyson told me before he left.”

               Percy licked his lips. His hand tightened around hers. “I’ll tell you later.” The way he whispered it, his voice an octave lower, Elisa had a feeling the story wasn’t good. “When … we’re alone.”

               Elisa’s jaw tightened. She looked up at the Argo II, the cold feeling still had not left her just yet. The whispers seemed louder now, and she had a sick feeling they were on her other shoulder. The warship’s massive bronze hull glittered in the sunlight. Part of her wanted to make a run for it—stay hand-in-hand with Percy, climb up the ladder, make it aboard, and get the hell out of Camp Jupiter. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong. And there was no way she would ever risk losing Percy again.

               "We'll be fine," she repeated what he told her, trying her very best to believe it.

               "Excellent," Reyna said. She turned to Jason, and Elisa saw a look in the girl’s eyes she couldn’t read. And Elisa hated not being able to read people. "Let's talk, and we can have a proper reunion."

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter two

━━ ELISA HAD FELT out of place many times in her life—back in Durango, those two years on the streets when people would avoid a homeless kid like her, that quest to save Artemis and Annabeth when she knew nobody with her but Grover, her first weeks at Camp Half-Blood when she didn’t have friends like Drew and only her brothers to talk to. But here, all those times seemed insignificant. 

               All things considered, Elisa seemed invited. She was offered a seat at one of the long tables, a nice seat too where she could lounge in the softness of the stuffed seat; Percy even sat by her, knocking his knee against her’s gently, intertwining their hands under the table, smiling at her every time she looked at him. She was even offered food and drinks by passing air spirits. She would shake hands and nod at senior officers; she would smile and be as polite as she could be despite feeling as if her skin was crawling. She even met Percy’s friends—Hazel, Frank, and Abilene. She wasn’t sure what to make of them at first: they all seemed nice enough, but even they shifted and exchanged glances like they were unsure of what to do themselves. But they weren’t rude; they were kind and welcoming. Elisa discussed with Hazel why she used cavalry weapons despite her height, with Frank she spoke about panthers ( he had a weird fascination with her dad’s patron animals, but Percy only shrugged when she asked why ), and Abilene and she spent several minutes discussing plants. 

               But Elisa knew she wasn’t welcomed at Camp Jupiter. She wasn’t wanted. She was on edge, the same on edge as when she was trying to make it to Camp Half-Blood for those two years. Her shoulders were rigid, she kept checking and double-checking every entrance, she kept looking over to anything that could be a weapon, looking for quick ways to escape the room in case things went totally south. She counted the heads of every Roman—making sure to be aware of how many were sitting at her table, how many were currently standing, and how many were sitting at tables around her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, too focused on how out of place she felt.

               Elisa forced herself to breathe through her nose, sitting up straighter as she scanned the table again. She knew why she felt so on edge—she was Greek, and she was a Greek in a very Roman place. It didn’t help that the ichor that flowed through her made her much more acutely aware than any regular mortal; demigods were labeled with ADHD, but it wasn’t. It was survival instincts. And right now, Elisa felt like prey surrounded by a hoard of smiling predators. It was written into her DNA from the Greek ichor that she needed to avoid anything Roman, but here she was, eating with them. She didn’t know if she was the prey, or if all those Roman half-bloods looked at her like she was the predator ready to maul them to bits. She supposed she wouldn’t blame them if they did look at her like that—she had flown in on a massive Greek warship with their old praetor declaring that they needed to make peace after millenniums of fighting. 

               She wished she had an appetite, too. The Romans knew how to eat. The wind spirits—aurae—kept swirling overhead, bringing endless amounts of pizzas, sandwiches, chips, cold drinks, and fresh-baked cookies. Drifting through the crowd were purple ghosts—Lares, Percy called them—in togas and legionnaire armor. Around the edges of the feast, satyrs ( no, fauns ) trotted from table to table, panhandling for food and spare change. In the nearby fields, the war elephant frolicked with Mrs. O'Leary, and children played tag around the statues of Terminus that lined the city limits.

               It was all so … friendly. It gave Elisa vertigo. She was supposed to be an enemy here, yet, they were treating her like a honored guest.

               Percy also played a part in the vertigo she felt. It felt strange to sit beside her boyfriend again. It was strange to be able to glance over and see his face; even more weird to have him constantly smiling at her. She forgot just how smiley he was. She was scared that if she blinked, he’d be gone all over again. 

               She grabbed his hand, ducking her head to frown at the table slightly. She held it tightly, grateful for the warmth of his hand. It helped her be sure that this was real and not some horrible her dream had decided to fabricate. He glanced at her, his eyebrows pinching together, but her linked their fingers and squeezed her hand.

               She didn’t want to be sitting at this table, trying to pretend that she liked rubbing elbows with these Romans. But she also knew what was at stake—the entire world. As much as she would’ve liked to have spent time with Percy, she knew that she needed to help build goodwill between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. Reyna and a few of her officers ( including the blond kid Octavian, freshly back from burning a teddy bear for the gods ) sat with Elisa and the others that had flown over via the Argo II; Percy had joined the table with his three new friends, Abilene, Frank, and Hazel.

               As a tornado of food platters settled onto the table, Percy leaned over and whispered, "I want to show you around New Rome. Just you and me. The place is incredible." He gave her a small smile, waiting for her answer, positive he would get the answer he wanted. Which had to be a Yes.

               Elisa wanted to say Yes, and she knew if she blinked at him like a deer in headlights any longer, he would finally pick up that she was uncomfortable. He could read her easily now; it was a perk and a con dating someone who could read you so easily. Perk; Elisa often didn’t have to bring herself to tell him any issues that she may have. Con; she could never hide the fact that there might be a problem from Percy. And Percy had a major issue in letting people deal with their problems. 

               She didn’t want to disappoint him. Clearly, Percy had grown fond of this place, though she had no idea how he could. And she should’ve been thrilled that Percy wanted to talk to her—alone, at that. That was exactly what Elisa wanted at the very moment. Instead, she looked down at their intertwined hands and a new tattoo covering his inner arm. He had an SPQR mark, just like the one Jason had, only Percy had one line instead of the twelve Jason had. Unlike Camp Half-Blood, where campers got yearly beads at the end of the summer session to commemorate the years of training, Camp Jupiter seemed to find it fitting to brand their campers like they were some cows. Each line represented a year of training. But to Elisa, it only read You belong to us. Permanently. 

               Bitter, nasty resentment got lodged in Elisa’s throat. Hearing her boyfriend speak so enthusiastically about Camp Jupiter made her chest tighten. What about Camp Half-Blood—their Camp? Their home? What about the Big House where they tried to figure out how to play pinochle together? What about the docks where they became a couple? Or the stables where Percy helped Elisa become a better pegasus rider? Or the campfires where they sang the songs ridiculously loud? Or the training grounds where they learned about each other?

               But she didn’t want to disappoint him. The place had become something important to him. Something about this place had drawn him in, only she didn’t know what it was. And as horrible as she felt for feeling the way she did, she refused to let those feelings bleed over to Percy. So, Elisa clamped her mouth shut and tried for a nod. “Yeah. I mean, sure.”

               Percy glanced at her once, then twice. He nervously started tugging at the purple praetor robes, and Elisa tried not to scowl at the sign of leadership. “I, uh—” He cleared his throat, and she snapped her eyes to look up at him as if to say Go on. "I've been thinking," he said nervously. "I had this idea—"

               He stopped as Reyna called a toast to friendship. Elisa let out a small Humph, grabbed her grape soda, and took a sip. If only Percy talked a little faster …

               She knew whatever Percy was going to tell her could—and would have to wait—because creating friendly ties between the two camps was the only way to stop the Earth Mother from destroying the entire world.

               After introductions all around, the Romans and those on the Argo II began exchanging stories. Jason explained how he'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood without his memory, and how he'd gone on a quest with Elisa, Delaney, Piper, and Leo to rescue the goddess Hera ( or Juno, take your pick—she was always going to be a pain in the ass whether Greek orRoman ) from imprisonment at the Wolf House in northern California.

               "Impossible!" Octavian broke in, flushed red with anger. "That's our most sacred place. If the giants had imprisoned a goddess there—"

               "They would've destroyed her," Piper broke in, her tone clipping and sharp. "And blamed it on the Greeks, and started a war between the camps. Now, be quiet and let Jason finish."

               Octavian opened his mouth to object, but fortunately for them all, no sound came out. Leo sent the blond a look of mock pity; Elisa snorted and quickly took another sip of her drink. It was moments like these where Elisa re-learned of her appreciation for Piper’s charmspeak.

               "So," Jason continued, spinning the silver ring Delaney had given him, "that's how we found out about the Earth Goddess Gaea. She's still half asleep, but she's the one freeing the monsters from Tartarus and raising the giants. Porphyrion, the big leader dude we fought at the Wolf House: he said he was retreating to the ancient lands—Greece itself. He plans on awakening Gaea and destroying the gods by … What did he call it?”

               “Pulling up their roots," Elisa answered for him, leaning forward against the table. “That’s what Porphyrion said.”

               Percy nodded thoughtfully. "Gaea's been busy over here, too,” he decided, sending Elisa a fleeting glance. “We had our own encounter with Queen Dirt Face." Then he recounted his side of the story. He talked about waking up at the Wolf House with no memories except for one name—Elisa.

               When she heard that, Elisa wasn’t sure what to do with the information. She swallowed hard, feeling a sudden wave of all sorts of emotions. All those months, she was worried—terrified, really—that Percy would have no idea who she was, or who they had been. Instead, he knew nothing but her name. The whole time she was worried, but it was herthat he remembered. She watched him, part in pity, part in shock, half-hearing as he recounted the rest of the tale—how he traveled to Alaska with Frank, Abilene, and Hazel, defeated the giant Alcyoneus, freed the Death God Thanatos, and returned with the lost golden eagle standard of the Roman camp to repel an attack by the giants' army.

               “Um …” Percy pursed his lips, looking over to his questmates who went with him to Alaska; Abilene looked up from her water quickly, her expression pained. “We also learned Abilene” —he motioned to the mousy brown-headed girl— “is Gaea’s … kid. But Abi fights for us, I swear. She had plenty of chances to give us—me, Frank, and Hazel—over to Gaea, but she never did.”

               “Hold on.” Leo pointed a spindly finger at the girl. “Gaea has mortal kids? I thought she, like, was still sleeping—” He peered closer to Abilene, his eyes narrowed. “How are you so old?”

               “Leo!” hissed Piper, trying to grab one of his arms to pull him back down into his seat. But the son of Hephaestus waved her off, watching Abilene with suspicious eyes.

               Frank sat up, his eyebrows pinched. “Hang on—”

               Abilene held a hand out to the boy, giving him an It’s okay type of look. ( Elisa was sure of it now: Abilene and Frank were dating. ) “Gaea has woken up times before,” she told Leo, her tone gentle, but she looked like she just swallowed a boulder. “Once back in the 1930s, then around the mid-90s—just long enough to must my dad’s mortalness to have a kid. This has been in planning for a long time. Her … takeover, I mean. She always planned that I would give this camp and my friends up.”

               “Only you didn’t,” Frank assured, locking eyes with her.

               Abilene quickly looked back down at her water.

               Elisa eyed the girl, her expression apprehensive. Sure, she tried not to judge others for their parents. Hell, her dad was Dionysus. Do you know how many kids hated him for his attitude when he was at Camp Half-Blood? But still, she couldn’t help it—learning Gaea had a kid like she was just another goddess that got around threw Elisa’s mind for a loop. And Elisa was used to mindfucks; she did have some control over madness, here. Besides, anyone could turn at any moment. Or Abilene could be playing the long game; the way Silena did. Or maybe Elisa should have a little faith in demigods.

               But she had seen too many demigods also lose faith, too. Only, they lost faith in the gods. Lost faith in their parents.

               Percy sent Abilene apologetic glances. “Look, I just had to get it out there. Before anyone could … twist it.” He not-so-subtly ( because Percy was never subtle ) glanced in the direction of Octavian, and Elisa became much more assured in her read of him.

               Jason raised his eyebrows. "Well, no wonder they made you praetor,” he told Percy.

               Octavian snorted. Happy to have the chance to speak again, he leaned forward and sneered, "Which means we now have three praetors! The rules clearly state we can only have two!"

               Elisa looked Octavian up and down, her eyebrows raised so far they practically disappeared into her hairline. She opened her mouth to ask what his problem was, but Percy spoke before she could. “Hey, look on the bright side” he started, “both Jason and I outrank you, Octavian. So we can both tell you to shut up."

               She glanced at her boyfriend, sighing quietly. He hadn’t changed.

               Octavian flushed as purple as his Camp T-shirt. Jason grinned and reached over the wooden table to give Percy a fist bump. Even Reyna managed a smile, though her eyes were stormy.

               "We'll have to figure out the extra praetor problem later," she decided quickly. "Right now we have more serious issues to deal with."

               Percy shrugged as he sat back down. "I'll step aside for Jason," he said easily. "It's no biggie."

               "No biggie?" choked Octavian, his purple face now turning red. "The praetorship of Rome is no biggie?"

               Ignoring him, Percy turned to Jason. "So … you're Thalia Grace's brother, huh?” He surveyed Jason, raising his eyebrows. “Wow. You guys look nothing alike."

               "Yeah, I noticed." Jason frowned, seemingly perturbed by Percy’s assessment. Elisa nudged her boyfriend gently, trying to tell him that the topic of Jason’s sister was a touchy one. "Anyway, thanks for helping my camp while I was gone. You did an awesome job."

               "Back at you," Percy said.

               From across the table, Annabeth kicked Percy’s shin. He took in a sharp breath between his teeth, and he gave her an estranged look. However, Annabeth quickly returned the look with one of her own. Elisa understood why Annabeth did what she did—they needed to move on, even if Percy and Jason were having a budding bromance. 

               Elisa cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s great, you two. Look, we need to talk about the Great Prophecy?” She glanced at Reyna, figuring she would be the easiest one to speak to. “Do you Romans know about it, too?”

               Reyna nodded. "We call it the Prophecy of Nine. Octavian, you have it committed to memory?"

               "Of course," he said. "But, Reyna—"

               "Recite it, please. In English, not Latin."

               Octavian’s jaw ticked, and Elisa could tell he was debating whether to directly disobey Reyna just to prove a petty point. But he gave a miffed sigh and began: "Nine half-bloods shall answer the call/A daughter’s revenge, she stands tall/To storm or fire the world must fall—"

               "An oath to keep with a final breath," Annabeth continued, making Elisa look at her sharply. "Alike in minds, two search the depth/And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."

               Everyone stared at the daughter of Athena—except for Leo, who had constructed a pinwheel out of aluminum foil taco wrappers and was sticking it into passing wind spirits. Apparently, that pinwheel was far more fascinating than a prophecy that could predict the end of the world.

               Annabeth flushed, slightly sinking in her seat. Elisa sent her a questioning look: What was that all about? The look read with pinched eyebrows and a slight headshake.

               Frank quickly sat forward, watching Annabeth with slight fascination as if she'd grown a third eye. "Is it true you're a child of Min—I mean, Athena?"

               "Yes," she said, her chin drawing down as she frowned at him. "Why is that such a surprise?"

               Elisa rolled her eyes slightly. “Because Athena’s supposed to be a virgin—Ow!” She brought up her left leg, rubbing her shin gently. She glared at Annabeth, who sneered at her.

               Frank looked at Elisa, and she suddenly understood why Annabeth had become so defensive. She felt like an animal on display at a zoo as Frank stared at her. “And you’re Bacc—Dionysus’s kid?”

               “Yeah,” she replied simply, her expression unimpressed. “He’s not a virgin, so don’t act so surprised to see me.”

               Frank flushed a bright red. Maybe there weren’t people here who were as vulgar as Elisa. For a second, she felt bad—Frank was just asking a simple question. And sure, she didn’t look a lot like the statues of Dionysus ( or Bacchus, whatever ).

               Octavian was frowning at Annabeth, his expression bordering on disgust. “If you’re truly a child of the WisdomGoddess—”

               "Enough," Reyna snapped, her hand raised, palm facing Octavian. "Annabeth is what she says. She's here in peace. Besides ..." She gave the daughter of Athena a look of grudging respect. "Percy has spoken highly of you. And of Elisa."

               Elisa stopped having a staredown with that kid named Frank to look up. She was stumped at the almost-compliment from the girl who looked like she would rather swallow a clump of dirt than say that. But the undertones in Reyna’s voice took her a minute to decipher, and she kept glancing over as Percy suddenly became very interested at the wooden grooves of the table.

               Then it struck Elisa like a smack to the back of the head. Percy turned Reyna down for her. Her head felt like it was a hot-air balloon—filled entirely with hot air as her entire face heated up like lava. She suddenly was extremely aware of how much space she took up, and her shoulders curled in on her frame. She didn’t know what to say now, especially with how bitter Reyna sounded when she gave the compliment.

               “Um …” Elisa glanced Annabeth’s way, but her friend only shared the look.  “Right. I mean—thanks.” But low under her breath, she added; “I think.”

               “At any rate,” started Annabeth, and Elisa was grateful for the subject switch, “some of the prophecy is becoming clear. Foes bearing arms to the Doors of Death ... that means Romans and Greeks. We have to combine forces to find those doors."

               From the corner of her eye, she noticed the girl named Hazel quickly snatch something from next to her plate. For a second, Elisa swore she thought it looked like a large ruby. But just as she saw it, it was gone—Hazel tucked whatever it was into the pocket of her denim shirt.

               "My brother, Nico, went looking for the doors," she then said, smoothing her shirt down as subtly as she could.

               Elisa looked past Percy, half-tempted to push his head out of her way. “Nico di Angelo?” she asked. “Like … Nico? And he’s your brother?”

               Many frowned at her for her phrasing, but she didn’t care. She was taken aback to find out people knew who Nico was here, let alone to learn that he apparently had a sister. Her skin crawled even more—Nico had a half-sister, and it was clear Hazel cared for him. Her tongue seemed to swell, and Elisa chewed on the end of it to bite back a nasty question ( the question: How close are you and Nico? ) It was valid—How well did Hazel know Nico? She couldn’t know him better than Elisa. Elisa’s known Nico since he was ten and she was thirteen. They made it to Camp Half-Blood together, and they managed to make it through the Labyrinth, too.

               Hazel nodded as if Elisa’s questions were obvious. A dozen more questions crowded into Elisa’s mind ( and all of them could come off as nasty and bitter ), but her world was already spinning like Leo's pinwheel. She frowned, her expression painful-looking. But she sat back and choked out, “Okay. What about Nico?”

               "He disappeared." Hazel licked her lips nervously. "I'm afraid ... I'm not sure, but I think something's happened to him."

               "We'll look for him," Percy promised. He grabbed Elisa’s hand from underneath the table as her jaw jutted out. He squeezed it tightly as if to say Trust me. Please. "We have to find the Doors of Death anyway. Thanatos told us we'd find both answers in Rome—like, the original Rome. That's on the way to Greece, right?"

               "Thanatos told you this?" Annabeth shook her head slightly, looking bewildered by all the revelations. "The Death God?”

               "He’s actually not that bad of a guy,” he admitted. Percy poked at the top bun of his burger with a fry. “Now that Death is free, monsters will disintegrate and return to Tartarus again like they used to. But as long as the Doors of Death are open, they'll just keep coming back."

               Piper nodded slightly. A strand of hair was wrapped around her finger. "Like water leaking through a dam," she suggested.

               "Yeah." Percy’s cheek twitched. "We've got a dam hole."

               Elisa sighed and rolled her eyes. The word play was funny years ago, but because she was delirious with grief and lack of sleep. Now, it wasn’t as funny. And her expression said as much when Percy nudged her with his elbow.

               Piper frowned, looking perplexed. "What?" she asked, looking between the two of them.

               “Nothing, Piper,” assured Elisa. “Percy’s just … Percy.”

               He quickly frowned at her, grabbing her elbow before she could jab him in the side. “That was funny,” he insisted. “Anyway, point is, we'll have to find the doors and close them before we can head to Greece. It's the only way we'll stand a chance of defeating the giants and making sure they stay defeated."

               Reyna plucked an apple from a passing fruit tray. She turned it in her fingers, studying the dark red surface. "You propose an expedition to Greece in your warship. You do realize that the ancient lands—and the Mare Nostrum—are dangerous?"

               Leo perked up at the name, finding interest in the conversation now instead of sticking pinwheels into passing wind spirits. "Mary who?"

               "Mare Nostrum," Jason explained. "Our Sea. It's what the Ancient Romans called the Mediterranean.”

               Reyna nodded. "The territory that was once the Roman Empire is not only the birthplace of the gods. It's also the ancestral home of the monsters, Titans and giants …” she took a breath, “and worse things. As dangerous as travel is for demigods here in America, there it would be ten times worse."

               "You said Alaska would be bad," Percy reminded her. "We survived that."

               Reyna shook her head. Her fingernails cut little crescents into the apple as she turned it over. "Percy, traveling in the Mediterranean is a different level of danger altogether. It's been off-limits to Roman demigods for centuries. No hero in his right mind would go there."

               "Then we're good!" Leo grinned over the top of his pinwheel. "Because we're all crazy, right? Besides, the Argo II is a top-of-the-line warship. She'll get us through."

               Elisa frowned at him. “Your choice of words felt personal, Elf Ears.”

               “Wha—” He glanced at her, frowning. Then, his mouth made a small O. “No, it wasn’t. You get what I mean—not crazy like that, crazy as in …” he thought for a moment, “bad assessment of danger!”

               Jason shook his head, deciding, "We'll have to hurry. I don't know exactly what the giants are planning, but Gaea is growing more conscious all the time. She's invading dreams, appearing in weird places, summoning more and more powerful monsters. We have to stop the giants before they can wake her up fully."

               Annabeth shuddered. "Nine half-bloods must answer the call," she said. "It needs to be a mix from both our camps. Jason, Piper, Leo, Elisa, and me. That's five."

               "And me," continued Percy, glancing over to his new three friends. "Along with Hazel and Abilene and Frank. That's nine."

               The decisions made Octavian shoot to his feet with a horrified expression. "What?! We're just supposed to accept that? Without a vote in the senate? Without a proper debate? Without—"

               Elisa huffed and lolled her head back. If she was Reyna, she would’ve booted him from Camp Jupiter long ago.

               "Percy!" Tyson the Cyclops bounded toward them with Mrs. O'Leary at his heels. On the hellhound's back sat the skinniest harpy Annabeth had ever seen—a sickly-looking girl with stringy red hair, a sackcloth dress, and red-feathered wings.

               Annabeth didn't know where the harpy had come from, but her heart warmed to see Tyson in his tattered flannel and denim with the backward SPQR banner across his chest. On the hellhound’s back sat a harpy, but Elisa could barely just tell it was a harpy she had seen at Camp before. This harpy was small and thing—a sickly-looking girl with stringy red hair, a brown sack for a dress, and red-feathered wings.

               Tyson stopped by their couch and wrung his meaty hands. His big brown eye was full of concern. "Ella is scared," he declared.

               "N-n-no more boats," the harpy muttered to herself, picking furiously at her feathers. "Titanic, Lusitania, Pax … boats are not for harpies."

               Leo squinted. He looked from Piper to Elisa, jabbing a finger at the harpy. "Did that chicken girl just compare my ship to the Titanic?"

               "She's not a chicken,” Hazel corrected him. But when he glanced at her, she quickly averted her eyes as if he made her nervous; Elisa quirked her eyebrows at that, Leo was anything but intimidating. "Ella's a harpy. She's just a little … high-strung."

               “That’s one way of saying it …” agreed Abilene, pulling a face to herself.

               "Ella is scared," Tyson said. "We need to take her away, but she will not go on the ship."

               "No ships," Ella repeated. She looked straight at Annabeth. "Bad luck. There she is. Wisdom's daughter walks alone—"

               "Ella!" Frank shot to his feet, his expression anxious. "Maybe it's not the best time—"

               "The Mark of Athena burns through Rome," Ella continued, raising her voice as she cupped her hands over her ears. "Twins snuff out the angel's breath/Who holds the key to endless death. Giants' bane stands gold and pale/Won through pain from a woven jail."

               The effect was like someone dropping a flash grenade on the table. Everyone stared at the harpy with all shared looks of shock. No one spoke—but Elisa could hear people’s breaths hitch, and she could see their eyes widen. But Elisa quickly looked at Annabeth, and Annabeth stared back from across the table. Annabeth shook her head, and Elisa got the message: Don’t say a word. Elisa frowned, but obeyed. It wasn’t her coin that was in Annabeth’s pocket right now, and it wasn’t her mother who told her to follow the Mark of Athena … 

               Whatever the hell Mark of Athena meant.

               Percy was the first to recover. He stood and took Tyson's arm."I know!" he exclaimed with feigned enthusiasm. "How about you take Ella to get some fresh air? You and Mrs. O'Leary—"

               "Hold on." Octavian gripped one of his teddy bears, strangling it with trembling hands. His eyes fixed on Ella—in a starved predator way. The way a starving lion would stare at a gazel. "What was that she said? It sounded like—"

               "Ella reads a lot," Frank rushed, tripping over his own words with a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. "We found her at a library."

               "Yes!" Hazel nodded adamantly. "Probably just something she read in a book."

               "Books," Ella muttered helpfully. "Ella likes books."

               Abilene looked from Frank, Hazel, and Percy, then over to Ella. Her expression was bordering on panic. “Um … yeah, she likes reading. Always gives really random lines, you know.”

               Now that she'd said her piece, the harpy seemed more relaxed. She sat cross-legged on Mrs. O'Leary's back, preening her wings.

               Elisa looked between Frank, Hazel, Abilene, and Percy. It was clear they were all hiding something, and that between the four of them, zero were good liars. Even if she had no idea that Annabeth had a burning coin from her mother, Elisa would still be able to figure out that what Ella just recited—the lines about angel’s breath, the key to endless death, and giants’ bane, and woven jail—was definitely a prophecy.

               Percy quickly shook his head when he and Elisa locked eyes. But his eyes held a desperate plea for help.

               "That was a prophecy," Octavian insisted. "It sounded like a prophecy."

               No one answered.

               As startled as she was, she knew Percy had to be keeping something revolving around Ella a secret or a reason. So she forced an airy laugh through her nose and rested her hands on the table to lean up. “Look, Octavian, my dad isn’t God of Prophecy and all, but I’m pretty good at picking prophecies out. That—whatever that harpy spewed—wasn’t a prophecy.” Her tone was scathing, but not hotheaded, and it bordered on mocking.

               Octavian started to flush red. “Excuse me?”

               “You heard me,” she told him, but her tone was light and airy. She gave him a tight-lipped smile; a smile you’d give a stranger on the street. “I mean, you’ve surely heard a prophecy before, right? You’re, like, an augur or something. Honestly, I don’t know much about augurs—guess they weren’t important enough—but I would also hope that you know harpies aren’t known for … premonition abilities. I mean” —she spread her hands, shrugging dramatically— “maybe harpies are different here, on the Roman side. Ours have just enough brains to clean and cook. Do yours usually foretell the future? Do you consult them for your auguries?"

               She gave the blond a sickeningly sweet smile as some Roman officers started to laugh under their breaths. They would glance at Ella’s way, seizing the harpy up like a potential enemy, but then would glance at Octavian and start snickering louder. The idea of a chicken lady issuing prophecies was apparently just as ridiculous to Romans as it was to Greeks.

               "I, uh …" Octavian dropped his teddy bear. His nostrils flared as the teddy bear fell to the ground with a soft thud! "I do not, but—"

               "She's just spouting lines from some book," Annabeth broke in, her lips pursed, "like the others suggested. Besides, we already have a real prophecy to worry about." She turned to Tyson. "Percy's right. Why don't you take Ella and Mrs. O'Leary and shadow-travel somewhere for a while? Is Ella okay with that?"

               "'Large dogs are good,'" Ella rattled off. "Old Yeller, 1957, screenplay by Fred Gipson and William Tunberg."

               Elisa looked around, unsure of how to take that answer, but Percy smiled like the problem was solved.

               “Great!" he said. "We'll Iris Message you guys when we're done and catch up with you later."

               The Romans looked at Reyna, waiting for her ruling. And Elisa found herself holding her breath. Reyna had an excellent poker face—she studied Ella, but what the look read, Elisa couldn’t tell.

               “Fine," the praetor said at last. "Go."

               "Yay!" Tyson went around the couches and gave everyone a big hug—even Octavian, who didn't look happy about it. Then he climbed on Mrs. O'Leary's back with Ella, and the hellhound bounded out of the forum. They dove straight into a shadow on the Senate House wall and disappeared.

               "Well." Reyna set down her uneaten apple. She hadn’t even taken a single bite. "Octavian is right about one thing. We must gain the senate's approval before we let any of our legionnaires go on a quest—especially one as dangerous as you're suggesting."

               "This whole thing smells of treachery," grumbled Octavian, shooting Elisa nasty looks. "That trireme is not a ship of peace!"

               "Come aboard, man," Leo offered. "I'll give you a tour. You can steer the boat, and if you're really good I'll give you a little paper captain's hat to wear."

               Elisa smothered a smile as Octavian's nostrils flared. "How dare you—"

               "It's a good idea," Reyna cut him off. "Octavian, go with him. See the ship. We'll convene a senate meeting in one hour."

               "But ..." Octavian trailed off. He huffed as he apparently recognized the look on Reyna’s face—arguing with her would not end well. "Fine."

               Leo grinned as he stood up. As he did so, he turned to Elisa—and for a split second, his smile changed. It happened so quickly, she was sure she had imagined it, but there—there for less than a second—it looked like someone had been standing in Leo’s place. And that stranger’s smile was cold and cruel, and there was a vicious glint in his eyes that made her blood run cold. But she blinked, and Leo was back to being Leo again, with his impish grin.

               "Back soon," he promised. "This is gonna be epic."

               The cold was back again, and it pressed against her like an overly friendly creep. She took a sharp breath, fighting the urge to stand up and stop Leo and Octavian. But she stayed rooted in her seat. How could she explain why she wanted them to stop? Tell everyone she was crazy as Dionysus’s daughter, that she was seeing things, and that she was feeling this cold “press against her”?

               The wind spirits began clearing the plates.

               "Uh, Reyna," Jason said, "I’ll show Piper around, if you don’t mind. She’s always said she’d love to see New Rome when I would tell the others about the place."

               Reyna's eyes flickered down to the silver ring Jason wore. Elisa wondered what the girl was thinking—whether Jason and Piper were a thing. Or wondering who had given Jason a ring he never would’ve worn otherwise?

               "Of course," Reyna said coldly.

               Percy grasped at his chance. He grabbed and squeezed Elisa’s hand. “Yeah, me too. I mean, not with Jason, but I’d like to show Elisa around.”

               She didn’t know what to say to that—whether to be gleeful she was going to get to spend time with Percy, or bothered by all the things she’d learned. As the groups split apart, Jason and Piper left, talking adamantly about the things she wanted to see, or Annabeth being asked to speak with Reyna alone, Elisa chewed on her feelings.

               “You didn’t sound that worried Nico’s missing.”

               That should’ve been the last thing she said, but she also knew why she said it—she was looking for a fight. It was that nasty sting that enveloped her like a hug that was made out of lava. She was feeling emotions she was having trouble processing, like having Percy back but now aware that Nico knew of Camp Jupiter and that he was missing now, so she took that out on the person nearest her—Percy.

               He frowned at her. “I didn’t have a chance to, until, like, now.”

               “No, Hazel said something. And I don’t even know her!”

               “Elisa …” He reached for her, but she stood up. “Look, I should’ve told you, but—”

               “I’ll go find Jason and Piper,” she decided, her voice icy. “Let’s see if they keep anything from me, huh?”

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter three

━━ ANNABETH FELT LIKE she didn’t have a choice when Reyna asked to speak with her. It didn’t even feel like a question, it didn’t feel like a suggestion either; Reyna said, “I’d like a few words with Annabeth,” but it was a command, not an offer. She almost didn’t hear Reyna either, too busy watching her friends split apart and go their separate ways. She made sure to watch them, in case something went haywire. She was on edge, her mind working a thousand miles per hour as she went over every possible escape plan she could think of. She kept an eye on the ones she made it here with—Piper and Jason were heading to the right, and Elisa and Percy were sitting at the table as they talked between themselves. Annabeth prided herself on reading others, and especially her friends. They were easy to read, and she easily could tell Elisa wanted an escape route from her feelings ( see in: an escape route from Percy; if there was one thing Elisa and Annabeth shared, it was bad regulations of emotions ). 

               The minute Elisa stood up, telling Percy one last thing—Annabeth tried reading Elisa’s lips; it was something like “Let’s see if they keep something from me”—and she watched the two carefully. Percy stared after his girlfriend as she stormed after Jason and Piper, his arms crossed on the table as he brooded. That hadn’t changed about him—Percy’s always had this brooding look to him. Annabeth scanned him, looking for anything else that changed about him; she was looking for else the Romans had changed. He still had that grey streak of hair, and Annabeth had long learned they—she, Percy, and Elisa—would never get rid of them. No amount of hair growth; no amount of hair dye would remove their physical reminder. He had grown, and Annabeth was realizing there would be no doubt he was taller than her now. She could no longer stealthily stand on her tiptoes and claim she was taller than him. It caused this horrible pain in her chest—Percy was still Percy, even though he had changed. He was still her brother, and they still shared all those horrible quests and the battles they went through together. No amount of memory wipes and amnesia could change that. But … he wasn’t the same—not entirely. He was not the same twelve-year-old boy she met. And neither was she. Annabeth had changed, too. Even Elisa was different; the daughter of Dionysus was far different from how she was when she was thirteen and attending Westover Hall.

               Annabeth was so distracted by her rambling thoughts that she barely heard Reyna’s second time offering—or ordering, really—as the praetor stood up, her brows pinched together. Her second time repeating the offer, Reyna’s tone and words were clipping with annoyance that she was being ignored. Annabeth didn’t need to be some genius at reading people to come to that assessment.

               She was startled, sitting up in her cushioned poof straighter. She glanced at Percy, who was stopped scowling to blink at Reyna. He seemed as stunned by the order as Annabeth was. Why would Reyna want to talk to Annabeth? But then her pride whispered: Why wouldn’t she? You’re you. You’re Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena. She watched Reyna for a second, her fingers digging in the groove of the wooden table. She tried reading the girl, but it was hard. The best she could gather was that she and Reyna were much alike. Reyna must’ve seen the same thing. That must’ve been why she wanted to speak with Annabeth, and not to Jason, Percy, Elisa, or Piper.

               Annabeth took another glance around the massive dining hall. She saw Elisa stalling at the door, clearly having heard Reyna’s question too. Jason and Piper were idling outside, frowning at Elisa and waving at her to hurry up. She didn’t want to be that friend, and usually, she wasn’t. She knew if she asked, Elisa and Percy would both stop and stay with Annabeth. But she didn’t want to ask Percy and Elisa to be on standby as she tried to work up the nerve to share a conversation with a Roman demigod that looked like she wanted to gut Annabeth. She also wanted them to help, but her pride …

               Again, her pride whispered: Why wouldn’t Reyna want to talk to you? You are basically the leader of the Argo II. They all look to you, even Jason, Son of Jupiter. You’re the smartest; you’re the brains of the Argo II.

               Ever since she arrived at Camp Half-Blood at only seven, she had heard whispers of fatal flaws. She didn’t have to be Athena’s daughter to understand what they were, either—the fatal flaw bit gave it away. However, knowing what your fatal flaw was instead of just knowing what fatal flaws were was harder. But Annabeth knew that, too. Pride. Hubris. ( Not hummus, as Percy assumed years ago. Not the same thing. ) And no matter how much Annabeth tried to push it down, or as hard as she tried to work through it, nothing seemed to stop her pride from worming its way into everything she did. She was the best architect in Cabin Six. She was the best with daggers, not even in Cabin Six but in all of Camp Half-Blood. She was the one who earned Daedalus’s laptop. She was the one who got to pour over his plans and build them—and perfect the blueprints—herself.

               But that was her pride talking. And it was like her pride never stopped talking.

               She had enough experience to know that she was the demigod to be pulled aside. Sure, she found pride in her parentage; she found pride in saying she was a daughter of Athena; but that didn’t make her special. No, she had siblings back home. And they were all geniuses at architecture as she was; they were all amazing at problem-solving; they were all practically perfect with any weapons they could get their hands on.

               But none of them were ever as good as her. None of them have ever gone on quests. Not like Annabeth.

               To wrangle her pride back into place she started reminding herself of her invisibility cap. For many years, it was a source of pride ( and it made her pride worse ), but now, it was just any other baseball cap. It didn’t work, not after … well, not after her latest talk with her mother.

               Annabeth wanted to hate New Rome. But as she followed Reyna through the spiraling streets, she couldn’t help but marvel at the terraced gardens, the fountains, and the temples. She marked the winding cobblestone streets in her mind, and she gazed upon the gleaming white villas she saw practically every five steps. After the Titan War last summer, she'd gotten her dream job: Athena had told her that she would be the one to redesign the palaces of Mount Olympus. Now, walking through this miniature city, all she kept thinking was: I should have made a dome like that. Or something like, I love the way those columns lead into that courtyard. Why didn’t you think of that, Annabeth? Whoever designed New Rome had clearly poured a lot of time and love into the project—and they designed it much better than she could have. She hated that, too. She hated being second.

               "We have the best architects and builders in the world," Reyna said as they wandered through the city. It was like she could read Annabeth’s thoughts. "Rome always did, in the ancient times. Many demigods stay on to live here after their time in the legion. They go to our university. They settle down to raise families. Percy seemed interested in this fact." 

               ( For a second, Annabeth thought about Elisa, wondering how she would feel about the last thing Reyna mentioned. She scowled, unsure of how her friend would react now. Sure, a couple of years ago when they first met, Elisa probably would’ve gagged and said something snarky. Now … well, she’d probably pretend to gag and would force herself to say something snarky. ) She must’ve scowled more fiercely than intended, as Reyna raised her eyebrows and chuckled lightly.

               "You're a warrior, all right," said the praetor, nodding knowingly to herself. "You've got fire in your eyes." 

               "Sorry …” Annabeth mumbled, trying to tone down the glare.

               "Don't be. I'm the daughter of Bellona." 

               "Roman Goddess of … War?" asked Annabeth.

               Reyna nodded. She turned and whistled like she was hailing a cab—barely a moment later, A moment later, two metal dogs raced toward them. Annabeth stiffened when she saw them, reaching for her knife, but she only grabbed air. The two dogs were automaton greyhounds, one silver and one gold. They brushed against Reyna's legs, regarding Annabeth with glistening, ruby-red eyes. 

               Seeing the look on her face, she explained, "My pets." She hooked one finger behind the silver one’s ear and scratched. She added, "Aurum and Argentum.”

               “The names for gold and silver?” blurted Annabeth, her eyebrows pinched. “On the periodic table?”

               Reyna glanced at her. “Yes. You don't mind if they walk with us?" 

               ( Once again, Annabeth got the feeling she didn’t have a choice in the matter. ) She noted that the greyhounds had teeth like steel arrowheads, and she took a sharp intake of air between her teeth. Maybe weapons weren't allowed inside the city, but Reyna's pets could still tear her to pieces if they chose. She pursed her lips, and choked out a, “Yeah. Sure.”

               Reyna led her to an outdoor café, where it became clear to Annabeth that the waiter behind the counter knew the praetor. The worker smiled and handed Reyna a to-go cup, he then offered one to Annabeth. She eyed the cup, wondering if this was some ply to poison her. ( She was in a camp that was for Romans; she was Greek. )

               "Would you like some?" Reyna asked, noticing Annabeth’s head tilt to the cup. "They make wonderful hot chocolate. Not really a Roman drink—" 

               “But chocolate is universal," Annabeth said. 

               Reyna nodded. There was almost a ghost of a smile on her face; it was more a smirk, really. "Exactly." 

               It was a hot June afternoon, but Annabeth accepted the cup with a small Thanks anyway. She had the thought that refusing Roman hospitality would not be a good thing. She took a sip of the drink, and it gave her such a homely feeling; the feeling was familiar, it was comforting. And what Annabeth needed was comfort. The drink didn’t remind her of San Francisco and her mortal family, it reminded her of Camp Half-Blood—the nightly campfire as everyone gathered around and made s’mores, throwing marshmallows and singing loudly as Cabin Seven led sing-a-longs.

               She sighed almost contently, taking another sip of the cocoa. She and Reyna walked on, making their way through the winding streets, and the praetor’s dogs roamed freely nearby. One—the one named Argentum—passed by in front of Annabeth’s feet quickly, giving her another glance at its razor-sharp teeth. The comforting feeling brought upon the cocoa quickly sobered away, and she straightened, taking a deep breath. The last thing Annabeth needed was to become too comfortable in enemy territory. And the very last thing she needed was getting on Reyna’s bad side. She didn’t want Reyna’s dogs snapping and snarling at her.

               Reyna broke the silence; "In our camp, Athena is Minerva.” Annabeth snapped her eyes up to look at the daughter of Bellona. “Are you familiar with how her Roman form is different?" 

               To be honest, no. Annabeth had never really considered the differences much before. Of course, she’s briefly read about the Roman gods, and how the people of ancient Rome took aspects of the Greek gods and morphed them into Roman; however, beyond that, she had never paid much mind to it. She never thought it would be important ( now she realizes how wrong that was …) She did remember the way Terminus had called Athena that goddess, as if her mother was something scandalous and should be avoided. Octavian had acted like Annabeth's very existence was an insult. She licked her lips, choosing her words carefully; “I take it Minerva isn't … uh, quite as respected here?" 

               Reyna blew steam from her cup, and it curled around her face before disappearing. "We respect Minerva. She's the Goddess of Crafts and Wisdom ... but she isn't really a Goddess of War. Not for Romans. She's also a maiden goddess, like Diana—the one you call Artemis, correct? You won't find any children of Minerva here. The idea that Minerva would have children … frankly, it's a little shocking to us." 

               "Oh." Annabeth felt her face flush, and she quickly tugged at an ear as it started to burn. The last thing she wanted to do was go into the details of her birth—how she was born straight from the mind of the Goddess of Wisdom, the same way Athena herself had sprung from Zeus’s head. Talking about that always made Annabeth feel self-conscious—like her birth, which she had no control over, made her some freak. Of course, the question made sense: her mom is supposed to be a virgin, yet Annabeth calls herself the daughter of Athena; however, that doesn’t mean Annabeth likes it when people ask if she has a belly button or not! She couldn’t explain how—or why—but she did.

               "I understand that you Greeks don't see things the same way," continued Reyna, her tone steadfast. "But Romans take vows of maidenhood very seriously. The Vestal Virgins, for instance ... if they broke their vows and fell in love with anyone, they would be buried alive. So the idea that a maiden goddess would have children—" 

               “Got it." Annabeth's hot chocolate suddenly tasted like dust. No wonder the Romans had been giving her strange looks. "I'm not supposed to exist. And even if your camp had children of Minerva—"

               “They wouldn't be like you," agreed Reyna with a small nod; Annabeth’s stomach twisted with discomfort. "They might be craftsmen, artists, maybe advisers—but not warriors. Not leaders of dangerous quests." 

               Annabeth immediately shook her head, saying, “I’m not the leader—I mean, Elisa and Jason—Piper and Leo …” She shook her head, insisting, “They all bring their strengths, and so do I.”

               She did her best to ignore her pride. But there was still a small spark in her stomach—Reyna looked at her and declared her a leader, so why deny it? And for a second, she wondered if her friends she had come here with would agree. She wasn’t lying when she said they all brought their own strengths—Leo built the Argo II that brought them here, Jason brought his knowledge of Camp Jupiter, Piper would her charmspeak to try and control the dangerous tides of angry Romans, Elisa was bringing her knowledge of giants and Hera’s plan. But Annabeth liked knowing that a praetor—someone who could easily pick out other leaders—called her a leader.

               "There's more." Reyna snapped her fingers, and her golden dog—Aurum—trotted over. The praetor stroked his ears. "The harpy Ella … it was a prophecy she spoke. We both know that, don't we?" 

               Annabeth swallowed harshly. There was something about Aurum's ruby eyes that made her uneasy. She had heard that dogs could smell fear—maybe even detect changes in a human's breathing and heartbeat. She didn't know if that applied to magical metal dogs, but the way he stared at her … she was inclined to believe they could. She hated that; she hated when people could read her like she wore her emotions on her sleeves. Annabeth didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeves.

               She decided to be honest rather than lying and testing to see if Aurum could smell lies. “It … sounded like a prophecy," she admitted. "But I've never met Ella before today, and I've never heard those lines exactly." 

               “I have," Reyna murmured. "At least some of them—”

               A few yards away, the silver greyhound barked. A group of children spilled out of a nearby alleyway and gathered around Argentum, petting the dog and laughing. Every single kid was completely unfazed by its razor-sharp teeth. 

               “We should move on," Reyna said. 

               They wound their way up the hill. The greyhounds followed, leaving the giggling children behind. Annabeth kept glancing at Reyna's face, this vague memory tugging at her brain. It was the way Reyna held herself; the small actions—the daughter of Bellona would brush her hair behind her ear, ducking her head slightly to do it. She even wore an odd ring Annabeth had only seen once: a silver ring that was embedded with a torch and sword design. It couldn’t be …

               "We've … we’ve met before," she blurted, hesitantly venturing the idea poking at her mind. "You were younger, I think. I mean, I was younger …" 

               Reyna gave her a dry smile. "Very good. Percy didn't remember me. Of course, you spoke mostly with my older sister Hylla, who is now Queen of the Amazons. She left this morning, just before you arrived. At any rate, when we last met, I was a mere handmaiden in the house of Circe." 

               “Circe …” Annabeth murmured—suddenly, the memories struck her like a good punch to the gut. She'd been thirteen. Percy and she had washed ashore from the Sea of Monsters. Hylla had welcomed them. She had helped Annabeth get cleaned up and given her a beautiful new dress and a complete makeover. Then Circe had made her the tempting offer that caught so many others: if Annabeth stayed on the island, she could have magical training and incredible power. She remembered being tempted by the offer. The thought of being able to hide away on a tiny little island that was right out of a vacation pamphlet, and to learn magic on top of all that. But she blinked past the ideals and saw it for what it was—a trap, and that Percy had been turned into a rodent. ( That last part seemed funny afterward, and she often poked fun at him, telling him that he didn’t eat that much lettuce for a guy who had once been a guinea pig; however, at the time, it was terrifying. ) As for Reyna ... she'd been one of the servants who had combed Annabeth's hair. 

               “You ..." Words were momentarily lost on Annabeth, mostly in amazement. "And Hylla is Queen of the Amazons? How did you two—?" 

               "Long story," Reyna quickly explained away. "But I remember you well. You were brave. I'd never seen anyone refuse Circe's hospitality, much less outwit her." Her voice was wistful. Annabeth thought it might be safer not to respond. 

               They reached the top of the hill, where a terrace overlooked the entire valley. Annabeth slowly came to a stop at the edge, resting her hands gently on the railing, her to-go cup of cocoa still steaming slightly. She looked out to everything, admittedly in awe of New Rome.

               Reyna stopped beside her, looking out to everything below. "This is my favorite spot," she admitted. "The Garden of Bacchus." 

               For a second, Annabeth thought of Elisa, thinking they should show her this place. Then, she thought again. As pretty as it was, Elisa couldn’t stand it because it had one gigantic statue of her father in the middle. Despite that, the place was beautiful—despite the bustling New Rome below, this garden managed to feel secluded and shut out from the world. It had many grapevine trellises that all twisted overhead to make one large canopy. Bees buzzed through honeysuckle and jasmine, which filled the afternoon air with a dizzying mix of perfumes. In the middle of the terrace stood a statue of Bacchus; he bent outwards at an odd angle, and he held onto a thyrsus that helped him stay upright as his other hand reached for the grapevines above. He wore nothing but a loincloth, his cheeks puffed out and lips pursed, spouting water into a fountain beneath him. 

               Elisa would’ve been mortified to see her father carved into stone in such a fashion, or she would’ve found it hilarious—Annabeth couldn’t decide. She, however, found it hilarious. She almost laughed aloud, covering it by clearing her throat. She knew the god in his Greek form, Dionysus—or Mr. D, as they called him back at Camp Half-Blood. Seeing their cranky old Camp director immortalized in stone, wearing a diaper, and spewing water from his mouth … it lightened her sour mood just enough.

               But the view … The view was well worth the climb. Annabeth stared, taking in every single thing she could. The whole city spread out below them like a 3-D mosaic. To the south, beyond the lake, was a cluster of temples perched on a hill. To the north, an aqueduct marched toward the Berkeley Hills. Work crews were repairing a broken section, probably damaged in the recent battle. 

               "I wanted to hear it from you.” Reyna’s voice was so sudden and abrupt ( and commanding ) that Annabeth flinched slightly. 

               Annabeth turned, frowning slightly. "Hear what from me?" 

               “The truth," Reyna said. "Convince me that I'm not making a mistake by trusting you. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about Camp Half-Blood. Your friend Piper has sorcery in her words. I spent enough time with Circe to know charmspeak when I hear it. I can't trust what she says. Neither can I trust Elisa. She is fair too irrational, as most of Bacchus’s offspring are. She goes off whims and whispers—like madness. She is smart, I will admit, and a warrior—but anger … Anger gets the best of her, correct? Madness and anger often go hand-in-hand.” ( Annabeth stared, wondering how well Reyna was a reading people; she made assumptions—correct assumptions—just from one shared lunch. ) “And Jason … well, he has changed. He seems distant, no longer quite Roman." 

               The hurt in her voice was as sharp as broken glass. Annabeth watched the daughter of Bellona, her words hanging in the air as the sudden ache spread through her chest—sympathy, she recognized it quickly. She also recognized the hurt—Elisa had sounded like that from the moment they realized Percy was missing, stolen from Camp Half-Blood right under her nose. All those months, Elisa’s tone of voice gave away every emotion she tried to hide; her body language showed everything she felt as she searched high and low for Percy. Her voice would be croaky with tears and exhaustion, and her shoulders would slump like she was laboring under the weight of the sky all over again. Somehow, it was worse the months after the quest. All Elisa could do was sit and wait until the Argo II was complete and it was time to come and get Percy. At least Elisa had found Percy; Reyna had no one. She was responsible for running an entire camp all by herself. Annabeth could see that Reyna wanted Jason to love her. But he had disappeared, during that time to find Delaney, and Delaney didn’t have to be here for Reyna ti realize that. Meanwhile, Percy had risen to praetor, but he had rebuffed Reyna, too. Now Elisa had swooped in to take him away. Reyna would be left alone again, shouldering a job meant for two people. 

               When Annabeth had arrived at Camp Jupiter, she'd been prepared to negotiate with Reyna or even fight her if needed. She hadn't been prepared to feel sorry for the daughter of Bellona. But she kept that feeling of sympathy hidden. She knew herself—and subsequently Reyna—to understand that she didn’t want pity from anyone, especially not a strange Greek.

               Instead, she told Reyna about her own life. She talked about her dad and stepmom and her two stepbrothers in San Francisco, and how she had felt like an outsider in her own family. She talked about how she had run away when she was only seven, finding her friends Luke and Thalia and making her way to Camp Half-Blood on Long Island. She described the camp and her years growing up there. She talked about meeting Percy and the adventures they'd had together with Grover and, eventually, Elisa, too. 

               She surprised even herself, opening up so easily was something she had never done before. But Reyna was a good listener. She didn’t add too many comments, and she nodded just at the right moments. There was a look in her eyes that made Annabeth feel as if she was looking right into a mirror. It made her tempted to tell Reyna about her more recent problems: her fight with her mom, the gift of the silver coin, and the nightmares she'd been having—about an old fear so paralyzing she almost decided that she couldn't go on this quest. But she stopped herself before she could. Reyna was a good listener, and she was understanding, but Annabeth couldn’t find it in her pride to be that open.

               When she was finished, Reyna gazed over New Rome. Her lips pursed tightly as she looked over the valley, her head heavy with thoughts. Her metal greyhounds sniffed around the garden, snapping at bees that were buzzing in the honeysuckle. Finally, Reyna pointed to the cluster of temples on the distant hill. 

               “The small red building," she started, "there on the northern side? That's the temple of my mother, Bellona." She turned toward Annabeth. "Unlike your mother, Bellona has no Greek equivalent. She is fully, truly Roman. She's the goddess of protecting the homeland." 

               Annabeth said nothing, keeping her eyes trained on the red temple Reyna pointed to. She knew very little about the Roman goddess. She wished she had studied up, but Latin never came as easily to her as Greek. Down below, the hull of the Argo II gleamed as it floated over the forum, like some massive bronze party balloon. 

               “When the Romans go to war," continued Reyna, "we first visit the Temple of Bellona. Inside is a symbolic patch of ground that represents enemy soil. We throw a spear into that ground, indicating that we are now at war. You see, Romans have always believed that offense is the best defense. In ancient times, whenever our ancestors felt threatened by their neighbors, they would invade to protect themselves." 

               "They conquered everyone around them," Annabeth replied. "Carthage, the Gauls—" 

               "And the Greeks." Reyna let that comment hang, the understanding look she had given Annabeth long gone now. It was replaced by a look that was … threatening. A look that was chilling. "My point, Annabeth, is that it isn't Rome's nature to cooperate with other powers. Every time Greek and Roman demigods have met, we've fought. Conflicts between our two sides have started some of the most horrible wars in human history—especially civil wars." 

               “It doesn't have to be that way," Annabeth assured, one hand tightening around the railing. "We've got to work together, or Gaea will destroy us both." 

               “I agree," Reyna said. "But is cooperation possible? What if Juno's plan is flawed? Even goddesses can make mistakes." 

               Unfortunately, Annabeth shared Reyna's doubts. She took a sharp breath to stop from letting out a frustrated hiss. Hera did make mistakes. She didn’t trust the goddess for one second. She had knocked a statue onto Thalia’s legs. She had made Annabeth step in many little gifts left behind by cows suffering from intestinal issues. She had sicced some psychotic peacocks on Elisa. Beyond just the peacocks, Hera had ruined Elisa for months—she had kidnapped Percy and gave him amnesia.

               “I don't trust the goddess," she admitted through clenched teeth. "But I do trust my friends. This isn't a trick, Reyna. We can work together." 

               Reyna finished her cup of hot cocoa. She set the cup on the terrace railing and gazed over the valley as if imagining battle lines. "I believe you mean it," she said. "But … I do not trust your friends. You and I both understand the importance of fatal flaws, and I’m sure you see your friends’ fatal flaws. Especially Percy’s. If the choice comes between stopping Gaea or saving someone he cares for … he wouldn’t think twice.” She locked eyes with Annabeth. “And you know who he would choose.”

               Annabeth swallowed harshly. She wanted to say Reyna was wrong, but … she wasn’t. Percy had willingly put himself at risk over the years to save her, Grover, or Elisa. And now that he bore the Curse of Achilles, she stopped worrying as much. But still, this was her best friend. And Annabeth knew her best friend. Percy would watch the world burn before letting someone he cares about die, or even for them to get hurt.

               Reyna looked back to New Rome, her dark eyes swirling. “Fatal flaws are exactly that. Fatal. There is nothing we can do to avoid them. I’m sorry … I can’t trust your friends. Not the way you do. I believe it to be impossible, and even if there is a chance … far too dangerous to consider.” She pursed her lips. Then, she sighed. “But if you go to the ancient lands, especially Rome itself, there is something you should know about your mother." 

               Annabeth's shoulders tensed. "My—my mother?" 

               “When I lived on Circe's island," Reyna said, her voice hesitant, "we had many visitors. Once, perhaps a year before you and Percy arrived, a young man washed ashore. He was half mad from thirst and heat. He'd been drifting at sea for days. His words didn't make much sense, but he said he was a son of Athena." 

               Reyna paused as if waiting for a reaction. But Annabeth didn’t know what reaction to give to please her—surprise? Confusion? Fear? She had no idea who that boy might have been. She had never heard of stories from her older siblings from Cabin Six about sons of Athena who have traveled in the Sea of Monsters, but still, she felt a sense of dread. The light filtering through the grapevines made shadows writhe across the ground like a swarm of spiders. Goosebumps crawled along her skin, reminding her of those horrible nights many, many years ago when she was tormented by spiders.

               “What happened to this demigod?" she asked. 

               Reyna waved her hand as if the question was trivial. "Circe turned him into a guinea pig, of course. He made quite a crazy little rodent. But before that, he kept raving about his failed quest. He claimed that he'd gone to Rome, following the Mark of Athena." 

               Annabeth grabbed the railing to keep her balance. 

               "Yes," Reyna said, noticing her discomfort. "He kept muttering about wisdom's child, the Mark of Athena, and the giants' bane standing pale and gold. The same lines Ella was just reciting. But you say that you've never heard them before today?" 

               Her tongue was as dry as sand. She swallowed, feeling as if she was swallowing the gritty material. "Not—not the way Ella said them." She wasn't lying. She had never heard that prophecy, but her mother had charged her with following the Mark of Athena; as she thought about the coin in her pocket, a horrible suspicion began taking root in her mind. She remembered her mother's scathing words. She thought about the strange nightmares she'd been having lately. "Did this—” She licked her lips, taking a breath. “... Did he explain his quest?" 

               Reyna shook her head. Her eyes glinted like black marble. "At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about. Much later, when I became praetor of Camp Jupiter, I began to suspect." 

               "Suspect … what?" 

               "There is an old legend that the praetors of Camp Jupiter have passed down through the centuries. If it's true, it may explain why our two groups of demigods have never been able to work together. It may be the cause of our animosity. Until this old score is finally settled, so the legend goes, Romans and Greeks will never be at peace. And the legend centers on Athena—" 

               A shrill sound pierced the air. Light flashed in the corner of Annabeth's eye. She gasped, bumping into the railing slightly. She spun around just in time to see an explosion, and she saw the billowing smoke that filled the air in the center of the forum. A new crater cracked through the stone in the center. A burning couch tumbled through the air; demigods scattered in panic. 

               Annabeth took a large gasp of air, fumbling for her dagger—but all she grabbed was air. "Giants?" She whipped her head over to look at Reyna. "I thought their army was defeated!" 

               However, she saw Reyna’s eyes. They were seething with rage. Annabeth’s stomach dropped with the heavy weight of dread. “It isn't the giants," the praetor practically growled. "You've betrayed our trust!" 

               “What?” balked Annabeth. “No!" 

               As soon as she said it, the Argo II launched a second volley. Its port ballista fired a massive spear wreathed in Greek fire. The sky glowed a sickly green as the spear sailed straight through the broken dome of the Senate House—the quick explosion shook the ground Annabeth stood on. She watched the Senate House burst into ferocious, green flames. Her knees felt weak as she clenched the railing. If anyone had been in there …

               "Gods, no …" She felt sick. She swayed as she took one hang off the railing to reach out for Reyna; however, the daughter of Bellona’s face was murderous. "Reyna, it isn't possible. We'd never do this!" 

               The metal greyhounds ran to her side. They snarled at Annabeth—baring their razor-sharp teeth at her. But they paced uncertainly, reluctant to attack Annabeth. 

               Reyna frowned at her hounds, almost in a questioning manner. “... You're telling the truth," she murmured, seemingly annoyed that Annabeth wasn’t lying. "Perhaps you were not aware of this treachery, but someone must pay." 

               Down in the forum, chaos was spreading worse than the Greek fire. Crowds were pushing and shoving. Fistfights were breaking out. 

               Reyna paled. "Bloodshed …"

               "We have to stop it!" 

               Annabeth had a horrible feeling this might be the last time Reyna and she ever acted in agreement, but together, they sprinted down the steep slope.

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

If weapons were allowed in the city, it would’ve been a slaughter. Roman demigods in the forum had coalesced into an angry mob. Some threw plates, food, and rocks at the Argo II—all of it pointless, for most of the projectiles only fell back into the crowd. Several dozen Romans had surrounded Piper, Elisa, and Jason, who were trying to calm them without much luck. Piper's charmspeak was useless against so many screaming, angry demigods. Jason's forehead was bleeding. His purple cloak had been ripped to shreds. And the ripped purple fabric—something that showed a sign of status and power here—gave a sense of foreboding to Annabeth. To these Romans, Jason Grace was no longer one of them. He was Greek now, and his orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt only proved that.

               He tried to speak over the angry Romans. He held up his hands, spreading his fingers to show some sort of peace with them—but Annabeth could see his face falling as he quickly realized that these people didn’t see him as one of their own. He wasn’t welcomed here anymore, the place he had grown up in since he was very young.

               Above her, the Argo II fired another flaming spear into New Rome. Annabeth winced, holding her arms over her head as more rubble flew into the air.

               "Pluto's pauldrons," cursed Reyna. "Look!" 

               Armed legionnaires were hurrying toward the forum. Two artillery crews had set up catapults just outside the Pomerian Line and were preparing to fire at the Argo II. 

               “That'll just make things worse," Annabeth said. 

               Reyna gritted her teeth, her shoulders bristling with anger. “I hate my job …” she growled. She rushed off toward the legionnaires, her dogs at her side. 

               However, Annabeth stood, rooted, despite all the chaos around her. She took a breath, trying to sort out her frantic thoughts. She had seen Piper, Elisa, and Jason, and only needed to find Percy. She curled her hands into fists. Sure, having weapons would’ve been a lot nicer, but she could fight her way out of this with just fists.

               She charged into the mod. When two Romans tried to grab her, she jumped into action. She grabbed one Roman by the shoulders, spun him around, and threw him into the second guy. They rolled away and she jumped over them and plunged further. And as if the angry Romans, burning couches, and exploding buildings weren't confusing enough, hundreds of purple ghosts drifted through the forum, passing straight through the demigods' bodies and wailing incoherently. The fauns had also taken advantage of the chaos. They swarmed the dining tables, grabbing food, plates, and cups. One trotted by Annabeth with his arms full of tacos and an entire pineapple between his teeth. 

               Everything became one confusing blur. She ducked under flying plates and bowls. She dodged and weaved between swinging punches and jabbing elbows. She had to kick her foot out and sweep Roman demigods off their feet as they tried to grab her. At some point, a statue of Terminus exploded into being, right in front of her. He yelled at her in Latin, no doubt calling her a liar and a rule breaker; however, she only pushed him and kept running.

               Finally, she spotted Percy. He and his friends—Hazel, Abilene, and Frank—were standing in the middle of a fountain as Percy repelled the angry Romans with blasts of water. Percy's toga was in tatters, but he looked unhurt. 

               Annabeth shouted Percy’s name as another explosion rocked the forum. This time the blinding flash of light was directly overhead. One of the Roman catapults had fired, and the Argo II groaned and tilted sideways, flames bubbling over its bronze-plated hull.  She noticed something else—a scrawny figure clinging desperately to the rope ladder, trying to climb down. It was Octavian, his robes steaming and his face black with soot. 

               Over by the fountain, Percy blasted the Roman mob with more water. They toppled over like angry bowling pins. Annabeth ran toward him, ducking under a Roman fist and a flying plate of sandwiches. 

               "Annabeth!" Percy called out, looking relieved to see her. "What—?" 

               “I don't know!" she yelled.

               "I'll tell you what!" cried a voice from above. Octavian had reached the bottom of the ladder. "The Greeks have fired on us! Your boy Leo has trained his weapons on Rome!" 

               Annabeth stared, stopping in complete horror. She felt as if her chest was filling with liquid hydrogen. She felt like she might shatter into a million frozen pieces. "You’re—you’re lying," she said. "Leo would never—!”

               “I was just there!" Octavian shrieked. "I saw it with my own eyes!" 

               The Argo II returned fire. Legionnaires in the field scattered as one of their catapults was blasted to splinters. 

               “You see?" Camp Jupiter’s augur screamed shrilly. "Romans, kill the invaders!" 

               Annabeth growled in frustration. There was no time for anyone to figure out the truth. The crew from the Argo II were outnumbered a hundred to one, and even if Octavian had managed to stage some sort of trick ( which she thought likely ), they'd never be able to convince the Romans before they were overrun and killed. 

               “We have to leave," she told Percy. "Now.”

               “No!” he threw back immediately, shaking his head. “Not without Elisa!”

               “I’ve seen her!” she countered. “With Piper and Jason!”

               He stared at her like she had grown three heads. “And those three can go up against—this?!” He waved his hand, accidentally blasting more Romans with fountain water; the demigods fell like a line of yapping dominos. “No way.”

               Annabeth wanted to pull at her hair in frustration. Instead, she balled her fists. “Elisa knows what she needs to go—get her ass over to the Argo II. She’s expecting us to do the same!”

               Percy’s jaw tightened, but he swallowed his anger and nodded. "You guys,” he turned to Frank, Abilene, and Hazel, “you've got to make a choice. Are you coming?" 

               Hazel looked terrified, but she donned her cavalry helmet. "Of course we are. But you'll never make it to the ship unless we buy you some time." 

               "How?" Annabeth demanded. 

               Hazel whistled. The wind whipped around, and a blur of beige shot across the forum. Right before Annabeth’s eyes, a majestic horse materialized next to the fountain. He reared, whinnying and scattering the mob. Hazel climbed on his back like she'd been born to ride. Strapped to the horse's saddle was a Roman cavalry sword. 

               She unsheathed her golden blade. "Send me an Iris Message when you're safely away, and we'll rendezvous," she said. "Arion, ride!" 

               Percy tried to say something, but Hazel and Arion were gone like the wind. It was as if the air around them all bent to the horse, and the horse disappeared into the distance faster than lightning. Luckily, the horse caused enough panic—the Romans scattered, shouting and yelling, as the horse ran.

               Annabeth felt a glimmer of hope. But that hope died as quickly as it appeared because halfway across the forum, she heard Jason shouting: "Romans!" he cried. "Please!" 

               He, Piper, and Elisa were being pelted with plates and stones. Jason tried to shield the two, throwing himself in front of them; however, someone from the crowd threw a brick, and it caught him right above the eye. The son of Jupiter crumpled, and the crowd surged forward. Annabeth caught sight of Elisa—she raised her fists, her eyes wild-looking in the green firelight. She very could risk using her powers at this moment—there was certainly enough madness going around already—but she wouldn’t. It would only cause more problems.

               Piper dropped, trying to tug Jason off the ground. Her eyes were almost as wild as Elisa’s. “Get back!" she screamed with fury. Her charmspeak rolled over the mob, making them hesitate. And they hesitated, but Annabeth knew the effect wouldn't last. 

               They were surrounded. There was no chance Annabeth or Percy could reach them in time. For a split second, Percy shot Annabeth a nasty glare, but she got the message—he was giving her his I told you so glare. One he didn’t get to do often because she was the one who was normally right. He started glancing around, trying to find a plan to save his girlfriend from being mobbed by angry Romans. 

               His eyes locked on Frank. His eyes lit up. “Frank, it’s up to you. Can you help them?”

               Annabeth didn't understand how Frank could do that all by himself, but she didn’t say anything. Percy knew this guy better than she knew him. 

               Frank swallowed nervously. "Oh, gods …" he murmured. "Okay, sure. Just get up the ropes. Now." 

               Percy, Abilene, and Annabeth lunged for the ladder. Octavian was still clinging to the bottom, but Percy yanked him off and threw him to the mercy of the mob below. They began to climb as armed legionnaires flooded into the forum. Arrows whistled past Annabeth's head; however, she kept climbing. An explosion almost knocked her off the ladder. Halfway up, she heard a roar below and glanced down. 

               Romans screamed and scattered at the long, towering shadow that spread across the ground. There, right before Annabeth’s eyes, was a full-sized dragon, and it was charging through the forum. The beast was so terrifying—far scarier than the bronze dragon figurehead on the Argo II—that her breath got caught in her throat. It had rough grey skin like a Komodo lizard's and leathery bat wings. Its jaw was so large it could easily swallow the entire legionnaires in one gulp. Arrows and rocks bounced harmlessly off its hide as it lumbered toward Elisa, Piper, and Jason. It grabbed them with its front claws and vaulted into the air. There was a long string of curses in Spanish, and Annabeth ventured that shrill voice was Elisa protesting her escape route.

               “Is that …?" Annabeth couldn't even put the thought into words. 

               “Frank," Percy confirmed, a few feet above her. "He has a few special talents." 

               “That’s one way of putting it,” agreed Abilene, her tone full of worry. “Percy, what if—?"

               “Just climb, Abi!”

               Without the dragon and Hazel's horse to distract the archers, they never would have made it up the ladder; but finally, they climbed past a row of broken aerial oars and onto the deck. The rigging was on fire. The foresail was ripped down the middle, and the ship listed badly to starboard. 

               There was no sign of Coach Hedge, but Leo stood amidships, calmly reloading the ballista. Annabeth's gut twisted with horror. “Leo!" she screamed. "What are you doing?!”

               "Destroy them …” He faced Annabeth, and she wasn’t even sure if she was looking at Leo Valdez. His eyes were glazed over, and his movements were robotic. "Destroy them all." 

               He turned back to the ballista, but Percy tackled him. Leo's head hit the deck hard, and his eyes rolled up so that only the whites showed. The grey dragon soared into view. It circled the ship once and landed at the bow, depositing Jason, Piper, and Elisa into one large heap.

               Percy climbed to his feet. "Go!" he yelled. "Get us out of here!” 

               With a shock, Annabeth realized he was talking to her. 

               She ran for the helm. She made the mistake of glancing over the rail—leagues of armed legionnaires were closing ranks in the forum, notching flaming arrows. Hazel spurred Arion, and they raced out of the city with a mob chasing after them. More catapults were being wheeled into range. All along the Pomerian Line, the statues of Terminus were glowing purple, as if building up energy for some kind of attack. 

               Annabeth looked over the controls. She cursed Leo for making them so complicated. No time for fancy maneuvers, but she did know one basic command: Up. She grabbed the aviation throttle and yanked it straight back. The ship groaned. The bow tilted up at a horrifying angle. The mooring lines snapped, and the Argo II shot into the clouds.

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter four

━━ EVERYTHING HURT. BADLY. All Leo wanted to do was cry. He wanted to sit down, put his head between his knees, and just cry. His body didn’t feel like his own ( there was still this feeling of coldness washing over him like he had dunked himself in a lake of ice water ), and he could hardly bring himself to breathe—he had to stop, his hand resting on the bottom of his ribs, and take the deepest breath he could muster before he choked up again. It didn’t help that five pairs of eyes watched him like he might start firing away again.

               He could make anything he wanted—nearly, at least. But the one thing he wished he could invent now was a time machine. Leo wanted nothing more than a way to go back in time to stop this from happening—to stop himself from firing on Camp Jupiter. He wished he had a way to even stop himself from stepping foot on the Argo II this morning. A way to plead with Jason, Elisa, and Annabeth that they needed—or at least that he needed—to stay back at Camp Half-Blood. He wished he had a way to warn them that he would’ve messed it all up—as Leo Valdez always did. He would’ve done anything—anything to not have to wither away as both Elisa and Annabeth stared him down with their freaky eyes.

               Elisa hadn’t said a word since detangling her limbs from Piper and an unconscious Jason. She didn’t even say a word to Frank; however, she did eye him as if he had done something to personally offend her. Her arms crossed over her chest, and she paced the length of the deck, careful to avoid debris that lay around, smoking slightly. 

               Annabeth was standing in front of Leo, her expression practically boiling. Her grey eyes always stood out from her dark skin, but now, it was like thunderstorms were swirling in her eyes. She was trying to be calm and understanding, but Leo could hear the anger she was trying to reel in—her words were clipping and cold, and every breath was sharp as she inhaled and exhaled through her nose. If her body language didn’t give it away enough, Leo could hear the anger, disappointment, and distrust she felt. He was used to hearing it; however, his skin still crawled, and his eyes burned. He was used to it, but it doesn’t make him any less angry with himself.

               "One more time," she said carefully, pursing her lips. "Exactly what happened?" 

               Leo slumped against the mast. His head throbbed like someone had knocked him upside the head with an extra-heavy hammer. He laid his head back as his arms lay in his lap. His heart pounded in his chest painfully, and his eyes stung as he rapidly blinked tears away. His ears burned hotly, and he pulled at one to make sure it wasn’t on fire nor that it was smoking. His head was hot with shame and frustration—it felt as if his head was filled with hot air. 

               All around him, his beautiful new ship—the ship he had spent months working on—was in shambles. The ship he found a purpose in, had felt like he belonged because of, was barely keeping aloft—the aft crossbows were piles of kindling, the foresail was tattered, the satellite array that powered the onboard Internet and TV was blown to bits ( which had really made Coach Hedge mad ). Their bronze dragon figurehead, Festus, was coughing up smoke like he had a hairball. Leo could tell from the groaning sounds on the port side that some of the aerial oars had been knocked out of alignment or broken off completely, which explained why the ship was listing and shuddering as it flew. His heart ached as he listened to the engine he had nearly blown up for wheeze like an asthmatic steam train.

               ( This cold, seething voice hissed at him, And it’s all your fault. He didn’t know if that was his mind, or if it was his imagination. Elisa would probably have an answer for him, but Leo didn’t exactly want to tell her that he was hearing voices that didn’t sound like his in his mind. )

               He choked back a sob. He laid his head back against the hull, squeezing his eyes shut, hating how Annabeth was seeing him like this—no, hating how everyone who stood around was seeing him like this; weak, guilty, crying. “I don't know,” he admitted miserably. “You have … you’ve got to believe him. I don’t know.” He cracked open his eyes, looking between Annabeth and Elisa; the two exchanged a shared look they often did. He hated when they would do that. It was just another reminder that he was no one’s first. “It's fuzzy."

               There were too many people looking at him. Annabeth with her steely grey eyes ( Leo hated to make her angry; she terrified him ), Coach Hedge with his furry goat legs, his orange polo shirt, and his baseball bat ( did he have to carry that everywhere? ); the satyr looked more upset about the loss of Internet and TV rather than the chaos they left behind at Camp Jupiter. Elisa stood slightly behind Annabeth, her arms crossed over her chest. Half of her hair had fallen out of her ponytail, hanging on the nape of her neck, curling around her ears and face. There were small cuts and scrapes on her cheeks and arms from the pebbles and plates that had been pelted at her; there were areas of her shirt that were clawed and ripped as Romans had tried to grab her. But considering a mob of angry Roman demigods had nearly trampled her, she looked okay. Leo’s heart lurched. He was the reason Elisa—one of his best friends—had almost been trampled by angry Romans.

               Worst of all, the newcomers—Frank and Abilene. They stood side by side, exchanging glances as Annabeth grilled Leo for answers. Leo wasn't sure what to make of Frank. At first glance, Frank had a kind face, sweet eyes, and a shy stance as he shifted from foot to foot; he kept glancing at Leo too, but unable to meet his eyes whenever Leo glanced back at him. He’ll admit that his memory was hazy, but he vividly recalled this terrifying dragon landed on his ship—and then the dragon morphed into Frank. 

               The girl, Abilene, wasn’t so shifty—her feet practically stayed rooted to the ground as she watched Leo with her weirdly vibrant royal blue eyes. He squirmed, feeling as if she was looking right through him. Her wavy light brown hair fell down her back as she kept tucking it behind her ears. She had a kind face, with freckles dotted across her cheeks and nose. She looked like the kind to wear her heart on her sleeve—except she had a gold, slightly curved sword hanging on her hip; the sword looked to be made out of the same metal Jason’s gladius was made of.

               Annabeth’s frown deepened. She crossed her arms, shifting from her left foot to her right. "You mean you … don't remember?" 

               "I …" Leo felt like he was trying to swallow a marble. He didn’t know what happened. Really, he didn’t. He felt like he was just watching as everything went down. He was unable to stop himself from firing the ballistics and destroying everything they had worked for. Everything he worked for. "I remember,” he admitted, his voice wobbly. “But … but it's like I was watching myself do things. I couldn't control it." 

               Coach Hedge tapped his bat against the deck. At least there was one thing that hadn’t changed—the satyr wore the same gym clothes and cap pulled over his horns the way he had back at Wilderness School. The way the old satyr was glowering, Leo worried he was about to be ordered to do fifty push-ups.

               "Look, kid," the satyr begin, tilting his head in an irritating You silly boy manner, "you blew up some stuff. You attacked some Romans. Awesome! Excellent, even! But did you have to knock out the satellite channels? I was right in the middle of watching a cage match." 

               “Coach.” Elisa turned to the satyr, her tone somehow more clipping than Annabeth’s. “Go see if all the fire are put out.”

               “But I already did that." 

               "And I’m telling you—check again.”

               It was clear that Hedge wasn’t happy to be taking orders from anyone, let alone Elisa. The two have notoriously butted heads since … forever, from what Leo can remember. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust each other; they were just too similar in certain ways, making them constantly bicker back and forth. The satyr shot her a begrudging look, but she only raised her eyebrows in an expectant Go-on manner. He grumbled under his breath—something incoherent Leo couldn’t decipher. But Hedge didn’t argue with Elisa, trudging off with a clip-clop of his hooves and his bat resting on his shoulders.

               Annabeth watched the satyr trot away until she couldn’t see him any longer. Then, she took a calming breath and carefully knelt next to Leo, her hands on her knees. The daughter of Athena scared him, he’ll admit—she was intimidating, analytical, and seemingly knew everything about you without you saying a word to her. Part of him wondered if she could read minds. She was pointed, steely, and carved—like some carefully crafted piece of machinery ( of course, Leo would never say that; he had a strong feeling Annabeth wouldn’t like being compared to machines, even though that was an A-okay comparison to him ). Part of him knew what made Annabeth so intimidating beyond her muscles and Celestial bronze knife was her eyes—steely grey that stood out against her dark skin. Her braided blonde hair only added to the layer, too.

               "Leo," she said, this time in a much softer tone, "did Octavian trick you somehow? Did he frame you, or—?" 

               Leo glanced at Elisa. She hadn’t said anything except to tell Coach Hedge to get lost, and he knew she was trying not to speak. He could see the anger boiling in her eyes like two vats of boiling purple wine. Her pointed finger tapped against her crossed arms, and her jaw jutted out almost painfully. Leo had never met Dionysus, but he got the message that the god and Elisa were a lot alike—if that was the case, he really hated to see Dionysus upset. He had a feeling they would all be talking with madness if he was. Leo had that feeling after meeting some Maenads back in March, especially. Elisa didn’t nod at him, she didn’t raise her eyebrows expectantly, she only looked at him with this steely, frozen-in-anger look.

               For a moment, he thought about lying. He thought about blaming that stupid Roman boy—but he couldn’t. Leo had let Elisa down on what had to be one of the most nerve-wracking days of her life since they fought giants back in December. He had seen just how nervous she was to find Percy in Camp Jupiter, and Leo blew it up—literally. “No." His voice was croaky, and he shook his head. "The guy—Octavian, right? He was a jerk, but he didn't fire on the camp … I did." 

               Frank’s hesitant, almost gentle expression curled into a deep scowl. That expression helped Leo see any resemblance between the hazy memories of the large dragon and this Frank boy—angry, daring, and deadly. "On purpose?" 

               "No!" Leo choked out quickly. Then, he squeezed his eyes shut. "Well, yes … I mean, I didn't want to. But at the same time, I felt like I wanted to. Something was making me do it. There was this cold feeling inside me—" 

               Elisa straightened, her arms dropping by her side. “Cold feeling?” It was the first thing she had said to them since they got off the Argo II to speak with some Romans, and that was all she had to say to him. But there was something in her voice—recognition, maybe? She sounded like she might recognize what Leo was talking about. And it looked like it scared her.

               Leo frowned at her, this heavy dread settling in his stomach. Whatever could freak out a daughter of Dionysus—who was well-versed in madness—didn’t make him feel any better. “Yes. Why?”

               Elisa pulled out her dagger, Scion, and started twirling it between her fingers. She never used it in battle, and when Leo asked why she kept it around, she only told him, From someone close to me. I keep it with me to keep them with me. From her tone, he could tell that was the only answer he was going to get—even if the answer left him with more questions instead of answers. She wiped the flat of the blade against her shorts, her mind looking like it was racing against itself. 

               From belowdecks, Percy called up, "Elisa, Annabeth—we need you." 

               Leo’s stomach lurched, and he clamped his arm over it. Oh, gods, he thought, his breath getting caught in his throat painfully. Please let Jason be okay. 

               As soon as they'd gotten on board, Piper had taken Jason below. Even from just a glimpse, Leo could tell that the cut on Jason’s forehead looked pretty bad. That his first memories of Jason were only a figment of his imagination and Hera fooling him with the Mist, that didn’t change the fact that he and Leo were friends. Besides, after spending six months with the guy at Camp Half-Blood, Leo practically considered those fake memories real, despite knowing how little sense that made. When they first “met,” they met each other in their shared dorm at Wilderness, and Leo was terrified that the joke that was meant to be pragmatic only made him look like a total fool—but Jason laughed at him, and Leo felt his muscles relax in the very moment. Of course, that memory wasn’t real, but Leo didn’t let it bother him—now, he was getting to know the real Jason Grace. And Jason was plenty different, but alike in so many ways to Leo’s Mist memories. He still laughed at Leo’s jokes, he often sat in silence as Piper or Leo rambled on about something, he would find ways to make Delaney ( the ever so “pragmatic;” swap pragmatic for blunt, truthfully ) flustered, and he even brought a calming influence to Elisa. He managed to balance them out—them all; Leo, Piper, Elisa, and Delaney. Leo didn’t even want to run away from Jason; instead, he would’ve followed the son of Jupiter wherever. And if Jason didn't make it …

               Well, disappointing Elisa and blowing up Camp Jupiter would be child’s play.

               Elisa noticed Leo’s worry; maybe he turned extra green in the face. "He'll be fine, Leo." Her frown lifted as she turned to the two Romans watching. "Frank and Abilene, right?” She pointed to the two, looking between them. “Annabeth and I will be back. Keep an eye on Leo for me.” Then, she hastily added, “Please.”

               Maybe she didn’t mean it like that—or maybe she did. Either way, Leo felt like someone had crudely carved his heart out with rusty carving tools. Elisa barely even knew their names, yet trusted Abilene and Frank enough to watch Leo ( whom she clearly didn’t trust anymore ).

               Once Elisa and Annabeth were gone, Leo could feel Frank’s beating stare. Abilene tried to not make it obvious she was staring, carefully looking out to the passing scenery of rolling hills and pretending to observe everything around them; however, Leo could feel her quick glances as he hung his head down slightly. He just wanted the two to go away—maybe find somewhere secluded and kiss since they clearly liked each other.

               They didn’t. Instead, Abilene rested her hands on her hips and sighed. Her head ducked as she looked to be preparing herself to ask the most important question of her life. “So … you’re name isn’t Sammy? The others called you … Leo?”

               He scowled at her. “What kind of stupid question is that?” he snapped.

               “Hey!” Frank frowned, holding his hand out in front of Abilene. He had changed out of his bedsheet toga, wearing a grey pullover hoodie and some jeans. At some point while Leo was unconscious, he found a bow and quiver from the ship’s armory; he had quickly claimed the weapon, slinging both over his shoulder. He kept one hand clutched around the strap of the quiver, as if the arrows brought him some sort of comfort. 

               “Frank, it’s fine,” Abilene insisted, shoving his hand out of her way. “It was a stupid question anyway.” She had shed her bedsheet toga, too; now she wore a purple T-shirt that read SPQR and some blue jean shorts. On her inner forearm was a tattoo—in bold, black ink was SPQR and three lines underneath it, along with a sickle with a straight line in the curved blade; that was an emblem. Jason had something similar, only Leo hadn’t known what Jason’s tattoo meant back in December—it was Camp Jupiter’s way of saying, Here, you belong to us. However, Leo much preferred Camp Half-Blood’s way of celebrating surviving another year—giving specially designed clay beads to represent the summer survived ( granted, Leo had no beads since he arrived during the winter ).

               “So, Leo,” Abilene made a clear emphasis on his name, telling him, Okay, you’re not Sammy; you’re Leo. “But I … I have to ask—Are you sure Octavian isn’t behind this? He’s always been very clear he doesn’t want Greeks and Romans working together.”

               “Yeah.” Frank nodded, thumbing the edge of the quiver’s strap. “Octavian could be behind it, like, magically or something. Maybe he controlled your mind—"

               With her chin tilting downwards, Abilene gave him a hard look. “Frank, don’t joke around. This is serious.”

               “I am serious!” he insisted. “You know how Octavian is! I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

               Leo really wanted to believe these two ( despite feeling like he was third-wheeling with them already ). And he was grateful for them—that they didn’t immediately hate him and toss him overboard the Argo II for everything he had done. But he knew it hadn't been Octavian. Leo had walked to a ballista and started firing. Part of him had known it was wrong. He remembered asking himself: What the hell are you doing, Valdez? But he'd done it anyway. 

               Part of him thought he was going crazy. Perhaps all the months and months of work he had spent stressing and building the Argo II had done him in—but Leo quickly remembered he had made best friends with a girl who could control madness. If she hadn’t noticed a few screws loose in Leo’s head, maybe he wasn’t crazy yet. 

               ( But he also wondered how well Elisa’s Madness Detection skills were—what if they were both crazy, and neither noticed because they both thought it was normal? ) He didn’t need to think like that. He needed to do something—something productive, something that would keep his hands moving. That was how he stayed somewhat sane ( at least, he thinks he was sane ); by always moving, not focusing on the past.

               "Look," he started, glancing at his two newly appointed watchdogs, Abilene and Frank, "I should talk to Festus and get a damage report. You mind …?" 

               Frank helped him up. "Who is Festus?" 

               "My friend," Leo answered. "His name isn't Sammy either, in case you're wondering.” He gave a pointed look to the brunette on deck.

               “Well—” Abilene became flustered. Her shoulders squared as she frowned at him. “Well—I figured since you called him Festus and all.”

               Leo cracked a small grin. It was easy getting under her skin—he’d have to start doing that more often. “Come on. I'll introduce you two, then."

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

“So, his name’s Festus,” started Abilene, following after Leo as he led the way toward the bronze figurehead. “He’s named happy in Latin? Odd name.”

               “You sure ask a lot of questions,” replied Leo breezily, trying to keep his tone light. “You sure you’re not, like, the daughter of some Roman God of Questions?”

               Neither Abilene nor Frank found him funny. Poking out from her hair, he saw the tips of Abilene’s ears start to turn this nasty blood-red. He winced to himself. Bad joke, he scolded himself. The joke wouldn’t be so bad if he had made it to Elisa or Piper, neither of whom were the demigod children of Gaea, the big baddie herself. Sure, Elisa didn’t like Dionysus ( from what Leo understood ), but Dionysus wasn’t Gaea. That was a step-up at least.

               “Er … forget it,” he added, grimacing. “Bad joke. I … I forgot.”

               Despite the bad jokes, Leo was relieved to see the bronze dragon wasn’t too damaged. Well … if you wanted to forget that Festus used to be a full-sized, full-bodied metal dragon until he crashed last winter—but Leo didn’t count that. That was ages ago, and Festus had been put to good use since! When they reached the bow of the ship, the figurehead turned a hundred and eighty degrees to look at them. 

               Shocked to see Festus was a dragon head, he yelped and stumbled away. “It’s—it’s alive!” he exclaimed, looking ready to faint.

               Abilene stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the dragon. “You’re friend is a metal dragon head?”

               Leo jabbed a finger at Frank. “And he can turn into a full-blown dragon.” He almost cracked a grin at their reactions—except he still felt too cruddy to find it funny. “What’s your point?”

               The brunette glanced in Frank’s direction, her sheepish expression reading, Well … he has a point. She swallowed harshly, glancing back at Festus. “Um … I guess you have a point. But why is he just … a head?”

               Leo didn’t answer immediately, remembering how it happened—he, Elisa, Delaney, Piper, and Jason had been flying cross-country to save Hera. Unfortunately, they flew over Omaha, Nebraska, they unlikely flew over Midas’s ( yes, the guy who can turn things—and people, Leo learned quickly—to gold; long story, and it also ties back to Gaea ) stupid security system shot them out of the sky and a bunch of lasers shredded Festus to non-reusable bits. The one thing that survived in a large enough piece of Festus’s head—but that had quickly died in Leo’s arms. It was a miracle he found another way to reuse the dragon. Beyond the Argo II, Festus was the greatest thing Leo had ever brought to life.

               “Festus, this is Frank and Abilene” —he motioned to the two; Abilene gave the dragon an awkward wave, but Frank slapped her hand down quickly— “Frank, Abilene—this is Festus … He used to be a full bronze dragon, but we had an accident." 

               Frank took some small steps forward, watching Leo from the corner of his eye. It was clear he was hesitant to get close to the bronze figurehead. "You … have a lot of accidents," he noted. 

               Leo frowned, his expression turning from near amusement to clear miffed feelings. He was far more annoyed at Frank’s comment than he was willing to let on; he was also far more willing to keep how he was also feeling close to his chest—guilt and hurt. "Well, some of us can't turn into dragons, so we have to build our own." He raised his eyebrows at Frank in an Anything else to say? manner. "Anyway, I revived him as a figurehead for the Argo II. He's kind of the ship's main interface now. How are things looking, Festus?" 

               Festus snorted smoke and made a series of squeaking, whirring sounds. Over the last few months, Leo had learned to interpret this machine language. Other demigods could understand Latin and Greek. Leo could speak Creak and Squeak. The others—Jason, Delaney, Piper, and Elisa—did their best to learn, but Leo was the best. But that all made sense. Machines were his thing; everyone else had their things. 

               Leo listened closely, tilting his head to the right for better listening. He groaned a bit, but he soon shrugged. "Eh. I guess it … could be worse, but the hull is compromised in several places. The port aerial oars have to be fixed before we can go full speed again. “We'll need some repair materials: Celestial bronze, tar, lime—" 

               “Limes?” Abilene frowned, looking from the creaking Festus and to Leo. “What could you need limes for?”

               Leo muttered some choice words in Spanish. “Lime,” he corrected Abilene. “Dude, lime.”

               “Don’t call her dude.” Frank scowled at Leo.

               “Frank, stop it.”

               “Anyway,” Leo eyed Frank as Abilene rolled her eyes, “calcium carbonate, used in cement and a bunch of other—Ah, never mind. The point is, this ship isn't going far unless we can fix it." 

               Festus made another click-creak noise. He stopped, looking back to the dragon to listen better. He didn’t recognize that sound; it sounded like AY-zuhl. He stared at Festus for a moment, going over the sound. But, he realized.

               "Oh … Hazel," he deciphered. "That's the girl with the curly hair, right?" 

               Both Abilene and Frank were paying full attention now. “Hazel?” asked Abilene. “Is Festus saying she’s okay, or …” she swallowed nervously, “not okay?”

               "Yeah, she's fine," Leo replied absent-mindedly, translating for the two as he listened to the rest of Festus’s creaks. "According to Festus, her horse is racing along below. She's following us." 

               "We've got to land, then," Frank said. 

               Leo studied the two. "You guys close with her?”

               Abilene shrugged like the answer should be obvious. “Yeah, ‘course. We went on a quest with her. Aren’t you close with the people you went on a quest with?”

               Leo raised his eyebrows, raising his hands in defeat. “Okay. You have a point. Yeah, I am close with them.” He looked back to Festus, his mind flickering through moments of the quest he and his friends on last December. They—all four of them—were his best friends. “Okay, well, we have a problem—we can only manage one landing. The way the hull and the oars are, we won't be able to lift off again until we repair, so we'll have to make sure we land somewhere with all the right supplies." 

               Frank scratched his head, his expression turning sheepish. "Uh … where do you get Celestial bronze? You can't just stock up at Home Depot." 

               "Festus, do a scan." 

               "He can scan for magic bronze?" Frank marveled, looking over the figurehead with more admiration than shock. "Is there anything he can't do?" 

               The reply “You should've seen him when he had a body!” was on the tip of Leo’s tongue, but he didn’t answer Frank’s question. The sadness of what Festus used to be and could be now was back in tenfold. The bronze dragon used to be crazy and uncontrollable, but Leo managed to fix him. All on his own. It was all Leo’s hard work, and no one had ever been able to do it before.

               Leo peered over the ship's bow. The Central California valley was passing below them. He didn't hold out much hope that they could find what they needed all in one place, but they had to try. Leo also wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and New Rome. The Argo II could cover vast distances pretty quickly, thanks to its magical engine, but Leo figured the Romans had magic travel methods of their own. 

               Behind him, the stairs creaked. Elisa was climbing the stairs, her expression was grim. Her purple eyes were no longer boiling.

               Leo's heart stumbled. "Is Jason—?" 

               "He's … okay,” replied Elisa, knowing what Leo was going to ask. “But he’s resting right now. Piper and Annabeth are keeping an eye on him.”

               Leo was at a loss for words. What could he say? I’m sorry! It’s not my fault! I didn’t mean for this to happen! It wasn’t like Jason was around—or even conscious—to hear Leo. Besides, he knew Elisa wouldn’t want to an apology because she wasn’t the one for them. Either way, she wouldn’t get it as Percy climbed the stairs behind her and Leo’s heart got lodged in his throat. He stared at the son of Poseidon, the sudden realization he was meeting Percy Jackson and not just his stories washing over him. It was weird—Percy Jackson to Leo was just stories from Camp Half-Blood and Elisa’s long-lost boyfriend. It was like he was one of the heroes from ancient Greek mythology. 

               Most people at Camp treated and spoke of him like he was a legend, Annabeth spoke of him with familiar bonds but also with this tone of I’ve always had to clean his messes, and Elisa rarely ever spoke of him. Leo knew Percy’s kidnapping was still a raw wound after six long months, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t tell that she did care for the son of Poseidon. She had so many photos of the two of them in Cabin Twelve, she would wear his sweatshirts and hoodies when it would get cold at the night campfires, and her expression would turn wistful whenever anyone else would mention him. It was just that Elisa struggled to even say his name, nearly running herself ragged to try and find him.

               Over those months, Leo felt like he started to learn Percy despite never having met the son of Poseidon before in his life. However, now he realizes that’s not true at all. Leo had no idea who Percy Jackson was; he was a stranger, only a stranger who was dating one of Leo’s best friends. That should come with automatic trust, but it was clear Percy had no trust in Leo. Even weirder, Percy wasn’t just telltales of a missing Camp savior anymore—he was in the flesh, breathing, and scowling. No longer was he some sad whisper at the campfire as people looked at Elisa with sadness and pity. He wasn’t the rare, vague whisper of his name on Elisa’s lips as she frowned and looked off. Percy’s absence no longer was a reminder from an empty Cabin Three or table at the dining hall. He was a real demigod.

               And Percy looked pretty pissed, too. He had shed his praetor robes, and now he wore a blue T-shirt and some jeans. He marched past Elisa who stood at the top of the stairs. He held a dark glower that made Leo’s spine tingle with nervousness. "Annabeth says you did fire the ballista?" 

               “Man, I—I—” Leo stammered, his hands raising in defense. He didn’t expect Percy to storm up to him with eyes that looked like green hurricanes. “I—I don't understand how it happened. I'm so sorry—“ 

               “Sorry?" Percy growled. 

               Elisa stepped forward, wrenching Percy back by his arm. “We’ve already asked Leo everything, Percy.”

               “But if he did fire on Camp Jupiter—on New Rome—”

               “Then we’ll figure it out later,” she snapped back, her tone clipping. She left no room for discussion as she gave the son of Poseidon a sharp look. “Right now, we have to regroup and make a plan—preferably with Annabeth. She’s the plan maker here. Leo, what’s wrong with the ship?”

               Leo's legs trembled. The way Percy had looked at him made him feel the same as when Jason summoned lightning. His skin tingled, and every instinct in his body screamed, Duck! People spoke of Percy with fondness as a hero and as a friend, but no one ever mentioned he was terrifying.

               He did his best to not look at Percy as he reported to Elisa the damages and supplies needed. He felt better talking about something that could be fixed, especially something that he could fix. He was bemoaning the shortage of Celestial bronze when Festus began to whir and squeak. He stopped mid-sentence and whirled around to the figurehead, and then he sighed with relief. "Perfect." He grinned, rushing toward the dragon's head. 

               “What?” Percy demanded.

               “Percy, seriously,” replied Elisa, giving him another hard look. She looked back to the son of Hephaestus, her expression expecting. “What’s perfect, Leo? It better be perfect.”

               Leo managed a smile. "Everything we need in one place. Frank, why don't you turn into a bird or something? Fly down and tell Hazel to meet us at the Great Salt Lake in Utah."

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Once they got there, it wasn't a pretty landing. Leo could hardly manage a controlled descent with oars so damaged and the foresail torn. He fought with the controls to make sure the Argo II didn’t drop straight out of the sky. The others strapped themselves in below—except for Coach Hedge, who insisted on clinging to the forward rail, yelling, "Yeah! Bring it on, lake!" 

               Leo stood astern, alone at the helm, and aimed as best he could. Festus creaked and whirred warning signals, which were relayed through the intercom to the quarterdeck. He gritted his teeth and kept pressing the Argo II to not fail him. He didn't have much time to take in the scenery. The best he could see was a city to the southeast—nestled in the foothills of a mountain range, blue and purple in the afternoon shadows, and then a flat desert landscape spread out to the south. What he focused on best was directly beneath him—the Great Salt Lake glittered like aluminum foil, the shoreline etched with white salt marshes that reminded Leo of aerial photos of the planet, Mars. ( He doubted the Roman god, Mars, looked like white salt marshes—but Leo could put anything past the gods. They were, well, gods. ) 

               "Hang on, Coach!" he shouted, hoping the satyr heard him. "This is going to hurt!" 

               "I was born for hurt!" 

               Leo gritted his teeth so hard that he felt like they were going to crack. He continued to wrestle with the controls, then—WHOOM! A swell of salt water washed over the bow, dousing Coach Hedge from his horns to his goat hooves. The Argo II listed dangerously to starboard, then righted itself and rocked on the surface of the lake. Leo hung on as best as he could as machinery hummed—the aerial blades that were still working changed to nautical form from aerial form. Soon, three banks of robotic oars dipped into the water and began moving them forward.

               "Good job, Festus," Leo said, patting the metal controls. "Take us toward the south shore." 

               “Yeah!" Coach Hedge pumped his fists in the air. Despite being drenched, he was grinning like a crazy goat. "Do it again!" 

               Leo stared at the satyr, unsure of how to respond. "Uh … maybe later," he replied. "Just stay above deck, okay? You can keep watch, in case—you know, the lake decides to attack us … or something." 

               Coach Hedge didn’t hear the sarcasm dripping from Leo’s words. "On it," he promised, setting himself in front of the rails with his hands behind his back and his bat resting against his goat legs. He stared down at the rippling water with surprising anger. 

               Leo rang the All clear bell and headed for the stairs. Before he got there, something trotted loud up onto the deck—the clop-clop-clop of horse hooves. He faltered and glanced back, spotting a tan stallion on deck with Hazel Levesque on his back. 

               "How—?" Leo's stared in shock, his question dying in his throat. "We're in the middle of a lake! Can that thing fly?" 

               The horse whined at him, clearly angry. 

               “Arion can't fly," Hazel said. But she stared at Leo as if she was still unsure of what to think of him. "But he can run across just about anything. Water, vertical surfaces, small mountains—none of that bothers him." 

               "Oh." 

               Hazel was still watching him the same way she had during the feast in the forum—like she was searching for something in his face. He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed by what she saw, or if Hazel was puzzled by him. He was tempted to ask if they had met before, but he was sure they hadn't.

               Their stare down was interrupted by Coach Hedge creeping forward with his baseball bat, eyeing the magic horse suspiciously. "Valdez, does this count as an invasion?" 

               "No!" Leo said. "Um, Hazel, you'd better come with me. I built a stable belowdecks, if Arion wants to—" 

               "He's more of a free spirit,” she replied breezily. She slipped out of the saddle, resting her hand on the sword that hung on her hip. Leo winced as Arion reared onto his hind legs and then disappeared into a blur. "He'll graze around the lake until I call him. But I want to see the ship. Lead the way." 

               The Argo II was designed like an ancient trireme—only twice as big. The first deck had one central corridor with crew cabins on either side. On a normal trireme, most of the space would have been taken up with three rows of benches where soldiers would sit and grab oars and labor away—but Leo decided on automatic and retractable oars, thank the gods. And since they were retractable, they took up very little room inside the hull. The ship's power came from the engine room on the second and lowest deck, which also housed sickbay, storage, and the stables. 

               Leo led the way down the hall. He'd built the ship with ten cabins—nine for the demigods of the prophecy, and a room for Coach Hedge ( as he was their “satyr chaperone” and “senior protector” per Chiron’s orders—though none of that made sense to Leo considering he had to chaperone Hedge so he didn’t eat their furniture ). At the stern was a large mess hall and/or lounge ( or whatever they chose to call it that day ), which was where Leo headed.

               On the way, they passed Jason's room. The door was open. Leo saw Piper sitting at the side of his berth, tugging at the end of her hair as she waited anxiously. If Leo hadn’t been there during it, Piper and Jason’s switch from December to now would give him whiplash. Of course, those “memories” of them as a couple were not real, but they felt so real—so to see Piper and Jason so platonic and with such strong friendship would be shocking if no one knew those memories of them as a “couple” were all fabricated by Hera ( or Juno? It was still a little confusing to Leo in all honesty. ) However, they made sense as friends; other side, Jason and Delaney made sense as a couple ( despite never announcing they were a couple, it was only that everyone knew ). It was a hundred-and-eighty-degree flip—the false memories of Jason and Piper that Leo had, Piper had practically been head-over-heels for him. Now, she treated him like a best friend—no hand-holding, no exchanging personal smiles between the two, no hugs, no anything that made them look like they were something more than best friends. It had been weird in the beginning for Leo to comprehend, especially when Delaney and Jason started dating, but now it made total sense—Piper and Jason were made to be best friends. 

               ( Besides, from what Leo saw, Piper stared far longer at Annabeth. But he never said anything anymore considering Piper nearly gutted him with Katoptris when he tried to tease her. )

               Leo gave a sigh of relief when he saw Jason snoring away with an ice pack balancing on his forehead. Piper glanced up when she heard the footsteps; when she saw it was Leo, she raised her eyebrows and smiled, looking happy to see him and Hazel. He took a breath, gearing up to break the silence; however, Piper put her finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet. Leo tried to force down his guilt, and they kept walking. When he and Hazel reached the mess hall, they found the others—Elisa, Percy, Annabeth, Abilene, and Frank—sitting around the dining table. 

               However, Elisa was saying something; “He turned into a dragon, right?” She pointed at Frank, who flushed brightly. She leaned across the table, a finger pointed at his nose.

               Both Percy and Abilene shared amused glances. Elisa noticed and frowned. “Okay, I get it—my Dad’s God of Madness, but I’m not crazy! He turned into a dragon!”

               Annabeth noticed Leo and Hazel in the doorway. She grabbed Elisa by the arm and pulled her back into her seat. “Another time, Elisa.”

               “What do you mean another time?! He turned into a dragon and grabbed me by his teeth!”

               Somehow, Frank turned even more red. “It was Percy’s idea, Elisa.”

               The son of Poseidon spread his hands. “Guilty.”

               Leo had made the lounge as nice as possible, since he figured they'd be spending a lot of time there. The cupboard was lined with magic cups and plates from Camp Half-Blood, which would fill up with whatever food or drink you wanted on command. There was also a magical ice chest with canned drinks, perfect for picnics ashore. The chairs were cushy recliners with thousand-finger massage, built-in headphones, and sword and drink holders for all your demigod kicking-back needs. There were no windows, but the walls were enchanted to show real-time footage from Camp Half-Blood—the beach, the forest, the strawberry fields—although now Leo was wondering if this made people homesick rather than happy. 

               Percy was staring longingly at a sunset view of Half-Blood Hill, where the Golden Fleece glittered in the branches of the tall pine tree. He sat next to Elisa, holding her hand tightly and knocking his knee against hers.

               Elisa watched Percy for a second, her expression almost flickering with pity. But she turned her head to face Leo. “We’ve landed,” she said. “So, what now?”

               From where he sat beside Abilene stiffly, Frank plucked on his bowstring. "Figure out the prophecy? I mean … that was a prophecy Ella spoke, right? From the Sibylline Books?" 

               Leo frowned, looking at him quickly. "The what?" he asked. 

               Frank quickly explained how the harpy at Camp Jupiter was one they—he, Abilene, Hazel, and Percy—had befriended on their quest to free Thanatos. Apparently, Ella had this amazing, probably ( Frank didn’t make it very clear ) photographic memory, and that she loved to read books. At some point in the past, she must’ve come across a collection of ancient prophecies that had supposedly been destroyed around the fall of Rome. 

               “That's why you didn't tell the Romans," Leo murmured as he slowly sat back down in his seat. "You didn't want them to get hold of her." 

               Percy’s gaze had drifted back to the image of Half-Blood Hill. "Ella's sensitive,” he admitted. “She was a captive when we found her. I just didn't want …” The hand that wasn’t intertwined with Elisa’s clenched. "It doesn't matter now. I sent Tyson an Iris Message, told him to take Ella to Camp Half-Blood. They'll be safe there." 

               Leo doubted that any of them would be safe, now that he had fired and practically started war with a camp of Romans who had access to what seemed to be all the weapons in the world ( and that wasn’t even talking about the wost of their problems—Gaea and the giants ). To not bring the mood down anymore, he didn’t say anything. 

               Annabeth laced her fingers together. "Let me think about the prophecy, okay? Right now we have more immediate problems. We have to get this ship fixed. Leo, what do we need?" 

               “Um, let’s start with the easiest thing—tar." Leo was glad to change the subject. "We can get that in the city, at a roofing-supply store or something like that. Also, Celestial bronze and lime. According to Festus, we can find both of those on an island in the lake. It’s just west of here." 

               “We'll have to hurry," Hazel warned, resting her elbows on the table they sat around. "If I know Octavian, he's searching for us with his auguries. The Romans will send a strike force after us. It's a matter of honor." 

               Leo felt everyone's eyes on him. He shifted in his seat, his fingers pulling on the end of his shirt. "Guys … I—I don't know what happened. Honestly, I—" 

               Elisa cut him off; “Annabeth and I have relayed what you said, Leo. We all agree it couldn’t have been you. That, uh …” she shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other, “that cold feeling you mentioned … I felt it too. I don’t know exactly what it is, but Annabeth thinks it is probably magic—maybe by Octavian, Gaea, or one of Gaea’s minions. But until we know more—”

               Frank eyed Leo with suspicion. "How can we be sure it won't happen again?" he grunted.

               Leo’s ears burned hotly. His fingers heated up like they were about to catch fire. He did his best to discreetly glance down to make sure they hadn’t. He could summon fire, but he had to be careful when his emotions started to get too high or too drastic. Fire was unruly, especially on a ship filled with explosives and flammable supplies. 

               "I'm fine now," he insisted, though he wished he could be sure. "Maybe we should use the buddy system. Nobody goes anywhere alone. We can leave Piper and Coach Hedge on board with Jason. Send one team into town to get tar. Another team can go after the bronze and the lime." 

               “Split up?" Percy repeated, starting to frown. "That sounds like a really bad idea." 

               "It'll be quicker," Hazel put in. "Besides, there's a reason a quest is usually limited to three or four demigods, right?" 

               Annabeth raised her eyebrows, as if reappraising Hazel's merits. "You're right. The same reason we needed the Argo II … outside camp, nine demigods in one place will attract way too much monstrous attention. The ship is designed to conceal and protect us. We should be safe enough on board; but if we go on expeditions, we shouldn't travel in groups larger than—let’s say—four. No sense alerting more of Gaea's minions than we have to." 

               Percy still didn't look happy about it, but he grabbed Elisa’s hand again. "As long as you're my buddy, I'm good." 

               Her curly hair was tucked behind her ears, letting Leo see that they flushed as she rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever …”

               “Okay, then,” Abilene leaned forward suddenly, having been quiet the rest of this conversation, “Frank can turn into a dragon or something and fly you guys to somewhere that has tar.” She looked at the black-haired boy, saying, “You can do that, right?”

               Frank straightened, looking shocked that Abilene would offer him up for the mission. “I—I guess, but, Abi—”

               “I’ll go you, then,” decided Annabeth. “That makes four—me, Percy, Elisa, and Frank.”

               “Then, me, Abilene, and Sa—Leo can go get the … lime and Celestial bronze.” She looked at Leo, her fingers tapping against the table nervously. “That’s what we need to get, right? Lime and Celestial bronze?” 

               Abilene nodded. “Sounds good to me. We’ll just have to be back on the Argo II by dark.”

               Frank scowled to himself, obviously unhappy with him and Abilene being separated. Leo also knew that—even though Frank didn’t say it—that he didn’t trust Leo, especially for Leo to go with Hazel and certainly Abilene. It annoyed Leo. And for some reason, Frank's disapproval made Leo want to go even more—he had to prove he was trustworthy. He wasn't going to fire any random ballistae again. 

               "Leo," said Annabeth, starting to stand up, "if we get the supplies, how long to fix the ship?" 

               “With luck, just a few hours." 

               “Fine," she decided. "We'll meet you back here as soon as possible, but stay safe. We could use some good luck. That doesn't mean we'll get it.”

               “Wow ...” Elisa stood up, rolling her eyes. “Can you get any more depressing, Owl Eyes?”

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter five

━━ ABILENE WASN’T SURE what to make of this Sammy look-a-like that was apparently named Leo ( and took offense to being asked if his name was Sammy ). When she first met him in the Mess Hall, he seemed like any child of Mercury she would meet—a sly grin, constantly tapping fingers, and darting eyes. When she looked closer, he looked exactly like the aged photo of Sammy that had been left in Alaska—scrawny, tan skin, sharp eyes, and curly black hair. In a world of gods, reincarnation wasn’t that far off of an idea; Abilene could easily believe Leo to believe some reincarnation of Sammy here to torment Hazel. Part of her wondered if Gaea had her hand involved in this, too. She always seemed to. 

               No matter what, no matter where Abilene seemed to look, Gaea’s influences were felt. Obviously, as the ( evil ) Earth Mother, Gaea had her hand on everything the earth touched—nature, mountains, animals, and no matter how much the other gods wouldn’t want to admit it, even things they controlled. Gaea could control earthquakes the same way Neptune could; she could create storm clouds using the right conditions from the earth like Jupiter; Gaea could control gems and use them as weapons the way Pluto can. She is the Earth. She created life, and she felt that she could take it away too. 

               Abilene knows thinking that way is only going to drive her crazy, but after learning what she has, she only thinks it’s fair. She had been lied to for years, thinking her mother was Ceres, Goddess of Agriculture. For years, she prayed and prayed to Ceres, hoping for a sign—then she had a sign. Viridis. Not long after Jason disappeared in October, “Ceres” spoke to Abilene; This sword will be vital to you, “Ceres” said as the falx sword slammed into the altar in Ceres’s temple. There’s a reason I named it Viridis—it will bring a better, younger age to my name. Of course, now Abilene realizes the goddess that spoke to her was never Ceres—it was Gaea. It had always been Gaea. It made Abilene physically sick to think about all those years she went around calling herself “Ceres’s daughter.” Ceres could have struck Abilene at any point for falsely calling herself that—but she didn’t. Abilene didn’t know why. Part of her wondered if Ceres just shrugged and went along with her day like Well, I guess I forgot about this one. It wasn’t like Ceres never technically claimed Abilene; Leila, whom Abilene still considered a sister despite everything, saw Abilene grow some plants and went around with Abilene, arm-in-arm, saying she had a new sister. No one argued. No one would think a demigod who could grow plants wouldn’t be Ceres’s kid.

               She never had much time to think about it since first learning the truth. She started questioning her godly mother when Percy arrived and claimed he was seeing a face in the earth; a face he swore that had to belong to Gaea. The idea was fleeting; What if that sleepy voice you hear isn’t Cerss, but is Gaea?; but she would quickly push the thought away, unable to admit it to herself—until Phineas, the blind seer. It made sense he knew—as a seer, he could see; if his visions of the future didn’t tell him, then Gaea did. But that doesn’t mean him knowing she was questioning everything didn’t shake her to her core—for years, who she thought was Ceres ( who she also thought was her mother ) spoke to her; for years, Abilene went to Ceres’s temple when she needed advice; the day after Jason Grace disappeared from Camp Jupiter, Abilene went to Ceres’s temple and asked the goddess for answers. And Gaea gave Abilene a sword—Viridis. After that, Abilene had no more answers until Gaea appeared as Barbara Briar as Abilene and Percy almost drowned in muskeg. Phineas had to have known that, whether from his visions or because it was relayed to him from Gaea and her minions. He had to have known of the desperation Abilene felt to be close to Ceres, only to start questioning who she thought was her mother when Percy Jackson arrived at Camp declaring the face that Abilene had been seeing for years was Gaea. 

               Abilene was much more scared than she wanted to admit. Gaea’s threat rang through her head like a clock chiming to say an hour has passed: The powers I gave you. And powers I could easily take away. The implication was obvious—Gaea was threatening to take away the powers she thought she so thoughtfully “bestowed” upon Abilene. Abilene didn’t see it that way, but she also knew Gaea—the Earth Mother would find any way to go through on her threat. She knew that firsthand; on Hubbard Glacier, after making her decision and fighting with her friends, Viridis became heavy like it had suddenly become a gigantic boulder. Not only that, when Abilene tried to use the earth at the bottom of the ocean, she felt as if it was fighting against her—Gaea was fighting against her. When Abilene first heard Gaea make that threat, she thought the goddess meant that Abilene would lose the powers she had over plants and dirt; what Gaea meant was that she would fight against her daughter. 

               What made her fear worse was the mentioning of the Great Prophecy. The line about a daughter’s revenge … terrified her. 

               Abilene was squeezed between Leo and Hazel, clinging onto the daughter of Pluto to make sure she didn’t fall off Arion’s back. Over the last few days, Abilene had hitched a ride on Arion’s back quite a few times; however, that does not mean she was used to the sheer speed the immortal horse had. She wasn’t. To be honest, she had never ridden that many horses before either. A few neighbors she had back in Montana ( who were many miles away ) had horses and for her seventh birthday, her dad asked if they could borrow them. And there were the pegasi, but only a few people had them, let alone ride them. The horse's hooves turned the surface of the lake to salty mist. Abilene narrowed her eyes, feeling the sheer power behind each gallop Arion made. Ahead of them lay an island—a line of sand so white, Abilene could have been fooled it was pure, untouched snow; the shore spread out until it rose into an expanse of grassy dunes and weathered boulders. 

               The salty mist Arion’s hooves kicked up into the air already made it hard enough to see. What made it worse was how fast the world was passing by—everything was blurry, and Abilene kept rapidly blinking as salty mist flew into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Hazel’s waist, wincing as the daughter of Pluto screamed and cheered as they raced toward the Celestial bronze and lime. Leo almost flew off many times; Abilene heard him scream that he could lose his stomach. At first, he seemed hesitant to hold on to her so as not to fall off, only hooking his arms under her armpits—however, after the fifth time of nearly bucked off, he grabbed her by the waist, screaming an apology. Abilene didn’t care; she was trying to keep her lunch in the place it needed to stay—her stomach. 

               Before they left, Abilene pulled Leo aside, noticing Percy getting ready to do the same. There to witness Percy trying to confront Leo about the whole “shooting at New Rome” fiasco, Abilene didn’t entirely want Percy to talk to Leo all on his own. Percy told her he was going to do Leo a “favor” by telling him about Hazel’s past, but she knew Percy’s ability to relay information—poorly and unfiltered. She grabbed Leo by the arm as they all left the table and rushed the information as quickly as she could—Hazel’s a daughter of Pluto, was born long ago, died at fourteen in the 1940s to stop Gaea, and she had been brought back to life only a few months ago. And as she told Leo, watching his face change and morph as each piece of information tumbled out of her mouth, she realized just how insane she sounded.

               She couldn’t read much about him, but she could tell by the way he looked her up and down that he wanted to ask about her past. She didn’t think it was necessary to give that information. She only told Leo about Hazel’s for her friend’s benefit. All they—the people that came to Camp Jupiter via the Argo II—was that she’s a daughter of Gaea and does not side with the Earth Mother and the giants.

               Arion thundered onto the beach, stopping to let the three slide off his back. When they dismounted, he threw his head and whinnied—it reminded Abilene of a battle cry. His hooves started to scuff the sand as he trotted in place slightly.

               Hazel watched the horse for a moment, but then she looked around. "He needs to eat," she explained. "He likes gold, but—" 

               Leo frowned. "Gold?" 

               "He'll settle for grass. Go on, Arion. Thanks for the ride. I'll call you." 

               And just like that, the horse was gone—nothing left but a dust cloud of disrupted sand and a steaming trail across the lake. 

               Abilene coughed, trying to wave the sand dust out of her face. “I hate when he does that …”

               Leo stared at where Arion had once been. "Fast horse," he muttered, "and expensive to feed." 

               "Not really," Hazel replied off-handedly. "Gold is easy for me." 

               Leo raised his eyebrows. He quickly looked at Abilene, as if expecting her to explain information to him again. "How is gold easy? Please tell me you're not related to King Midas. That guy sucks.”

               Hazel pursed her lips, looking like she was regretting bringing up the topic of gold altogether. "Never mind." 

               Abilene sighed slightly, pursing her lips tightly. Her skin felt like it was constantly being zapped by small rods with coursing electricity. She was glad to be back on land, no longer feeling as if the world was swimming beneath her as the Argo II flew. But her mind couldn’t let her forget that the comfort she found standing on land couldn’t be comforting—not with Gaea trying to rise.

               “So …” She broke the awkward silence that settled. “Celestial bronze and … lime? Like—the stuff that’s a bunch of calcium?”

               “What?” Leo raised his eyebrows at her, resting his hands on his hips. “Did you think the fruit?”

               “Well—no!” Abilene stumbled for a response, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “... Maybe. I don’t know—when you showed Festus, I thought—maybe—the limes might be for him.”

               “You don’t feed body-less Celestial bronze dragons.” The black-haired boy rolled his eyes as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

               Abilene frowned at him, clearly vexed at his attitude. “You also don’t typically feed horses gold. Sorry, I assumed wrong.”

               Leo stopped looking around the white sand to blink at her. He seemed as perplexed as she felt, and she hoped she caught him as off guard as she felt, too. He seemed to flip-flop between friendliness and a standoffish attitude; part of Abilene wondered if such drastic change had something to do with him firing on New Rome. He didn’t seem like himself then; his eyes were glazed over like he wasn’t entirely there. ( She also didn’t want to think that his attitude towards her had to do with the fact she was Gaea’s daughter. It wasn’t her fault her mom was the Earth Mother. ) 

               For a moment longer, he frowned at her. But soon, Leo knelt down, cupped a handful of white sand, and examined it. "Well … one problem solved, anyway. This is lime." 

               Hazel’s face churned. "The whole beach?" 

               "Yeah. See? The granules are perfectly round. It's not really sand. It's calcium carbonate." Leo pulled a Ziploc bag from his tool belt and dug his hand into the lime. However, as he was pooling some of the lime into the bag, he froze. The perplexed look fell into one of … fear; like he was remembering a ghost.

               Abilene shared a look with Hazel, resting her hand on Viridis's hilt. It doesn’t matter if Gaea could make the falx sword feel as if it weighed a thousand pounds; Abilene had no other sword on hand. She looked back to Leo, hesitantly asking; “... Leo? Are you … okay?”

               He took a shaky breath, quickly starting to fill the bag. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, fine.”

               Hazel and Abilene shared another look; the daughter of Pluto knelt next to Leo and started to help. Abilene kept her hand resting on the leather-wrapped hilt of Viridis, her skin crawling. For some years, she found some comfort in the vague face in the earth she would dream of. No matter how weird the dream was, she assumed this was Ceres, who she assumed was her mother. You’re supposed to find comfort in seeing your mom’s face—even if her face in made out of dust, sand, dirt, snow, or whatever. Her shoulders steeled as she stared out, her eyes playing a trick on her. Abilene swore she saw Gaea’s sleeping face swirling in the white calcium.

               Hazel tried to break the growing silence; "We should've brought a pail and shovels." 

               The comment made Leo snort lightly. He grinned, looking between Hazel and Abilene. "We could've made a sand castle." 

               The daughter of the earth shook her head. She was imagining the face; her anxiety from standing on the earth again. "Oh, sure.” She turned back to the others, trying for a grin. “What? A lime castle?" 

               Leo’s attitude had switched again. He glanced up at her, his eyes crinkling slightly as his face broke out into a larger smile. “I didn’t know you could make jokes, Abilene.”

               “I dabble here and there.” She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite how bewildered she was at Leo’s constant attitude switch. One minute; he was being snarky and short. A second later; he was cracking jokes. 

               Hazel stopped filling the Ziploc bag, her handful of lime slipping through her fingers. She looked at Leo as if she was looking at a ghost; she probably felt like she was. "You are …” she started, looking at Leo. “You are so much like—" 

               "Sammy?" Leo offered. 

               She fell backward, dropping any bit of lime in her hands left. "You—you know?" 

               Abilene licked her lips nervously, glancing off toward the grassy dunes. Leo glanced at her, telling Hazel earnestly; “I have no idea who Sammy is. But Abilene asked me if that was my name or not.” 

               "And ... it isn't?" 

               "No! Jeez …” 

               "You don't have a twin brother or …" Hazel stopped. "Is your family from New Orleans?" 

               "Nah. Houston.” Leo scooped more lime into the Ziploc bag, stopping to stare at the two strangely. “Why? Is Sammy a guy you used to know?" 

               "I …” Hazel flushed, brushing her hands off as she stood up. “It's nothing. You just look like him." 

               Leo looked at Abilene. “You know this Sammy?”

               “... No. Just heard of him here and there.”

               Leo looked at her strangely, but she only shrugged at him. If he truly wasn’t Sammy, then he didn’t need to know about Sammy and Hazel. Besides, Abilene could tell Hazel was embarrassed and wanted the attention off of herself. “Let’s just finish getting the lime, alright?” she asked, her voice becoming clipping. “The quicker we get this and this Celestial bronze, the quicker we can get back to the Argo II.”

               They finished filling the bag in silence after that. Leo stuffed it into this tool belt he wore, and right before Abilene’s eyes, the Ziploc bag vanished. Leo didn’t even act like any weight had been added to the belt. She looked up, about to ask what kind of tool belt could do that, but he declared; "Festus said there was Celestial bronze close by, but I'm not sure where—"

               "That way." Hazel pointed up the length of the beach. "About five hundred yards." 

               Abilene rescanned the island—bleach-white dunes, blankets of grass, and boulders encrusted with salt-like frosting. She looked the way Hazel pointed. “You sure?” she asked.

               Leo looked surprised, glancing at Hazel with wide eyes. "How do you—?" 

               "Precious metals," she explained. "It's a Pluto thing." 

               Leo’s eyebrows raised. "Handy talent. Lead the way, Miss Metal Detector.”

               Hazel’s face twisted. “Please don’t call me that.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

The sun had begun to set as they walked for the bronze. The sky turned a bizarre mix of deep purples and warm yellows before Abilene’s eyes. In any other universe, she would have enjoyed a walk along the beach—but when your mother is Mother Earth and she wants you and everyone you love dead, walking along beaches is hard to enjoy.

               Abilene also found it hard to enjoy the walk because of the sheer amount of sand that had slipped into her shoes. She was grateful when Hazel finally turned inland. 

               Leo looked in the direction they had left the Argo II in. “You sure this is a good idea?" he asked as they started to climb one of the slopes. 

               “We're close." Hazel glanced back at Leo and Abilene, her lips pursed. "Come on." 

               Abilene’s shoes were—somehow—filled with even more sand as she climbed the dune behind Hazel. She gritted her teeth, her face twisting at the feeling, but she pushed through until she crested the top. And just there—a woman, just over the rows of dunes.

               She sat on a boulder in the middle of a grassy field. A black-and-chrome motorcycle was parked nearby, but each of the wheels had a big pie slice removed from the spokes and rim. Abilene didn’t know much about motorcycles, she’ll admit, but even she knew that wasn’t driveable. The motorcycle wasn’t the most shocking thing—the woman’s appearance almost made Abilene fall backward and down the dune she stood on. The lady’s hair was bleach white, pulled back tightly until a braid, and she wore a white bandana over her head to keep any stray hairs out of her eyes. Her skin was aged—wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, she had deep-set smile lines, there were two distinct lines between her eyebrows from years of furrowing them, and she even had age spots from years of sunlight. Her clothes were like any other farmer's—muddied boots, a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and jeans with dirt coated on them, she even had a pair of well-used gardening gloves tucked away in her back pocket. The most shocking part was her eyes. They weren’t white—like how Gaea had shown them to Abilene in the muskeg vision—they were this deep, soulful brown. They were exactly like George Briar’s eyes. It made Abilene almost sick to look at them; she didn’t realize how much she missed her dad until she saw his eyes.

               The woman looked like Barbara Briar, Abilene’s grandmother. Or, at least, the version of Barbara Briar Gaea had appeared as to Abilene. The woman made Abilene stop in her tracks as it felt like the air had been ripped out of her lungs. 

               Tears bristled in her eyes as Abilene took a sharp breath from her nose. She looked quickly at Leo and Hazel, trying to gauge their reactions. Leo looked gutted—but, right before her, she watched that horrible feeling turn into anger. She couldn’t read Leo well, but even with dyslexia, she could read the anger. It was rolling off him in waves. 

               She swallowed harshly, trying to figure out why Leo could be so upset at the sight of Barbara Briar. Had Gaea appeared to him as Barbara? Did they know this old woman was what her grandmother used to look like before Death claimed her? Did they know this was her grandmother? What would they say to her, knowing even her grandmother, voluntarily or not, was involved in Gaea’s schemes?

               But when Hazel forged ahead, Abilene ( and Leo ) had little choice but to follow. Abilene won’t lie, she hung back as the daughter of Pluto marched for Barabara. She eyed her grandmother warily, feeling her chest restrict with indescribable emotion. A curled whip was hooked around a belt loop on the side of her jeans. Her red-leather jacket had a subtle design to it—twisted branches of an apple tree populated with skeletal birds. And for the first time, Abilene noticed the pile of broken fortune cookies. They were ankle-deep around Barbara’s muddied rain boots, but she didn’t care—she kept pulling new ones from her sack, cracking them open, and reading the fortunes. Most she tossed aside. A few made her grumble unhappily, her expression pinching slightly. She would swipe her finger over the slip of paper like she was smudging it, then magically reseal the cookie and toss it into a nearby basket. 

               Suddenly, Leo demanded, "What are you doing?"

               Barbara looked up, looking between her eyelashes as she sealed another fortune cookie and tossed it aside. Leo, with his eyes widening to the size of saucers, gasped and stumbled backwards. Abilene had to grab him by the upper arm before he trampled over her trying to back away. All the anger he held when he asked what her grandmother was doing was long gone now—or, no, it wasn’t. His expression changed from shock to unbridled rage. Leo’s nostrils flared as he croaked out, “Aunt Rosa?”

               Abilene frowned, looking from Leo to her grandmother. She had no idea who this Aunt Rosa was supposed to be, but she doubted Barbara Briar and this Rosa looked anything alike. Unless, of course, Barbara had a secret twin named Rosa; for some reason, Barbara and Rosa had to live two very different lives. ( Abilene had her doubts regarding this, but when gods meddle in your life, you learn to expect the impossible. )

               Her grandmother tilted her head, bemused by Leo’s small outburst. "Is that what you see?" the woman asked. "Interesting. And you, Hazel, dear?" 

               "How did you—?" The daughter of Pluto stepped back in alarm. "You—you look like Mrs. Leer. My third-grade teacher. I hated you." 

               Abilene watched her grandmother cackle. It made her head swim. For years, she had wondered what her grandmother was like; How did she dress? What were her favorite foods? What did she laugh like? But this … this didn’t feel right. "Excellent. You resented her, eh? She judged you unfairly?" 

               "You—she taped my hands to the desk for misbehaving," Hazel recalled. Her eyes looked glassy, and her expression churned as she thought back to those days. "She called my mother a witch. She blamed me for everything I didn't do and—No. She has to be dead. Who are you?" 

               "Oh, Abilene knows," Barbara said, her deep brown eyes falling onto the brunette. "How do you feel about your own grandmother, BiBi? What has made you so bitter about your own grandmother?”

               BiBi. Abilene felt sick. That was what her dad used to call her, when he used to be a good dad. It was his nickname for his daughter. He stopped calling her BiBi when Raleigh, her soon-to-be stepmother joined the picture. Abilene didn’t blame Raleigh—she was good to George and Abilene—it was only that her dad became … preoccupied with the rest of his life. That only became worse when Raleigh gave birth to Abilene’s half-sister. And as those years passed, and as Abilene grew older and further from George, she longed for anything to fill the void her dad had left. Then, right before she turned thirteen, she started receiving letters from someone who claimed to be her grandmother. Desperate, Abilene clung to the chance to have family put her first after years of fighting to be seen. And then her grandmother started telling her “truths”—Abilene is a demigod, she needs to attend Camp Jupiter, somehow knowing Hazel with her golden eyes, saying Abilene needs to train with Lupa to decide if she was “worthy.” It was all too convenient, and yet, Abilene never noticed because she was too wrapped up in the attention. 

               That’s why she found it so easy to run away on her thirteenth birthday and head for Camp Jupiter. Once she made it to the Roman safe haven, she never received another letter. It stung. Once again, she was placed on the back burner and forced to take care of herself as the rest of her family continued on like she never existed. Then, three years later, her world shifted again as Barbara appeared once again as Abilene nearly suffocated in muskeg.

               What made Abilene bitter about her grandmother? Because Gaea used Barbara as a puppet for her evil plans. She resented Barbara Briar despite the woman having been dead before she ever “contacted” her granddaughter. Barbara’s face, her handwriting, and even her name, were constant reminders of Abilene’s life being turned upside down. 

               She had lost her voice by now. Even if Abilene could find it within herself to speak, she couldn’t do it—her voice would waver, then break, and she would start to cry. She wiped her hands on her shorts, feeling her skin go clammy. Hazel and Leo were watching her, and refusing to look at them, she looked at the only thing that couldn’t stare at her—the motorcycle with undrivable wheels. The wheels … They looked like … broken wheels. 

               “Nemesis.” Abilene’s voice sounded froggy and unstable. She swallowed harshly, looking back to her grandmother. “You’re Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge.”

               "You see?" The goddess smiled at Hazel and Leo. "She recognizes me." 

               Nemesis cracked another cookie, and her nose wrinkled as she read the paper. “You will have great fortune when you least expect it." She huffed and rolled her eyes. "That's exactly the sort of nonsense I hate! Someone opens a cookie, and suddenly they have a prophecy that they'll be rich! I blame that tramp Tyche. Always dispensing good luck to people who don't deserve it!" 

               Leo slowly looked at the mound of broken cookies. "Uh … you know those aren't real prophecies, right? They're just stuffed in the cookies at some factory—" 

               "Don't try to excuse it!" Nemesis snapped. Abilene closed her eyes, unable to see her grandmother’s face contort into an expression so angry. "It's just like Tyche to get people's hopes up. No, no. I must counter her." Nemesis flicked a finger over the slip of paper, and the letters changed to read: "You will die painfully when you most expect it. There! Much better." 

               "That's horrible!" Hazel exclaimed. "You'd let someone read that in their fortune cookie, and it would come true?" 

               Nemesis sneered. "My dear Hazel, haven't you ever wished horrible things on Mrs. Leer for the way she treated you?" 

               "That doesn't mean I'd want them to come true!" 

               "Bah!" The goddess resealed the cookie and tossed it in her basket. "Tyche would be Fortuna for you, I suppose, being Roman. Like the others, she's in a horrible way right now. Me? I'm not affected. I am called Nemesis in both Greek and Roman. I do not change, because revenge is universal." 

               Leo frowned, looking up from the pile of broken cookies. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "What are you doing here?" 

               Nemesis opened another cookie. "Lucky numbers. Ridiculous! That's not even a proper fortune!" She crushed the cookie and scattered the pieces around her feet. "To answer your question, Leo Valdez, the gods are in terrible shape. It always happens when a civil war is brewing between you Romans and Greeks. The Olympians are torn between their two natures, called on by both sides—splitting headaches. Disorientation …" 

               "But we're not at war," Leo insisted. 

               “We used to not be,” corrected Abilene. “But—no offense, Leo—now that you've blown up part of New Rome, it's going to declare war on Camp Half-Blood in retaliation.” She couldn’t bring herself to say we’re going to, because she wasn’t the one making the calls at Camp Jupiter. Besides, she didn’t want to go to war anyway.

               Leo stared at the brunette, looking almost betrayed. "Not on purpose!" he replied hotly, his knuckles turning white as his fists clenched.

               “Yea-yeah, I know,” she promised. “But the Romans—Octavian—don’t know that. They’re going to pursue us in retaliation. That’s just …” she shrugged, “how Camp Jupiter and New Rome are.” 

               Nemesis cackled, somehow finding this delightful. "Leo, listen to the girl. War is coming. Gaea has seen to it, with your help. And can you guess whom the gods blame for their predicament?" 

               Leo licked his lips, staring at the goddess. "Me."

               “And Gaea’s daughter over here.” Nemesis nodded to Abilene, whose nostrils flared.

               “Don’t call me that!” she protested.

               “But that’s what you are,” countered Nemesis, raising her eyebrows at Abilene. She didn’t have a rebuttal; no matter what she wanted, she was Gaea’s demigod child, and she had to deal with the consequences of that. Nemesis made a Humph noise, as if to say That’s what I thought; she turned back to Leo. "Well, don't you have a high opinion of yourself? You're just a pawn on the chessboard, Leo Valdez. I was referring to the player who set this ridiculous quest in motion, bringing the Greeks and Romans together. The gods blame Hera—or Juno, if you prefer! The Queen of the Heavens has fled Olympus to escape the wrath of her family. Don't expect any more help from your patron!" 

               For a moment, Abilene had a little pity for the Goddess of Marriage—but only for a moment. From what she understood, Juno had majorly screwed with most of the lives on the Argo II: Jason, Percy, Annabeth, Elisa, Leo, and Piper. Juno had even visited Frank when he was a baby. Who knows if she had her eyes on Hazel and Abilene, too? She probably did, knowing that goddess. But there was still a sliver of pity. Juno was the Goddess of Childbirth, and yet, a mother to no heroes. That doesn’t mean Abilene likes all the meddling Juno’s doing in heroes' lives.

               Abilene watched Leo and Hazel. With the way Nemesis addressed him, Leo looked pretty frazzled. “Lady Nemesis,” she started, “why are you here?”

               Nemesis smiled wickedly. "Why, to offer my help!"

               The three demigods shared a simultaneous dubious glance. The gods didn’t just “offer” help for free; there was always a catch.

               "Your help," Leo echoed, his doubt ringing clear in his voice. 

               "Of course!" said the goddess. "I enjoy tearing down the proud and powerful, and there are none who deserve tearing down like Gaea and her giants. Still, I must warn you that I will not suffer undeserved success. Good luck is a sham. The wheel of fortune is a Ponzi scheme. True success requires sacrifice." 

               "Sacrifice?" Hazel's voice was tight. "I lost my mother. I died and came back. Now my brother is missing. Isn't that enough sacrifice for you?" 

               Abilene stared at the goddess. Sacrifice? She had sacrificed her entire life, and not even by her choice! Her life had been sacrificed—gone—the moment she was born a demigod, and the daughter of Gaea on top of that. She had lost her chance at the mundane, normal mortal life the moment she was born. She never even had a chance.

               “What have I—any of us—not given up already?” asked Abilene, her voice shaking. “Don’t you think being born as demigods was sacrifice enough?”

               Nemesis grinned wickedly, making Abilene’s skin crawl. She leaned forward, the whip hanging on her belt loop swinging. “Have you?” she asked, her voice eager. She wanted an argument. “Have you sacrificed enough, Abilene Briar? The gods—not even Gaea—believe you have. Not yet.”

               She had no witty comeback. All she could do was stare at the goddess—stare right into the eyes that looked exactly like her father’s, George Briar. Her nostrils flared as she choked out; “I don’t care what Gaea thinks!”

               Nemesis leaned back, flipping a fortune cookie between her fingers. “Oh, everyone cares what their mother thinks.”

               Leo stepped forward, his expression angry. "Right now," he snapped, pointing a shaky finger at the goddess, "all I want is some Celestial bronze." 

               "Oh, that's easy." Nemesis shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. "It's just over the rise. You'll find it with the sweethearts." 

               "Wait." Hazel frowned, tilting her head slightly. "What sweethearts?" 

               Nemesis popped a cookie in her mouth and swallowed it, fortune and all. "You'll see. Perhaps they will teach you a lesson, Hazel Levesque. Most heroes cannot escape their nature, even when given a second chance at life." She smiled. "And speaking of your brother Nico … you don't have much time. Let's see—it's June twenty-fifth? Yes, after today, six more days. Then he dies, along with the entire city of Rome." 

               Hazel's eyes widened. "How—?” Her voice was strangled as she tried to understand. “What—?" 

               "And as for you, Child of Fire." Nemesis turned to Leo. “Your worst hardships are yet to come. You will always be the outsider, the ninth wheel. You will not find a place among your brethren. Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, though I could help you … for a price." 

               Abilene balked as Leo’s hands burst into flames. He didn’t even react as the orange flames licked at his wrists and consumed his entire hands. Both she and Hazel backed away, looping their arms together as if that could protect them if the fire spread. Leo didn’t care still—he kept looking at Nemesis, his expression almost … murderous. Nemesis enjoyed it; she smiled proudly, glad to know she successfully got under his skin.

               Leo took several deep breaths. He ignored both Abilene and Hazel’s eyes as he shoved his hands into his pockets—the flames were snuffed, but Abilene could see small trails of smoke curling into the air. "I like to solve my own problems." 

               "Very well." Nemesis brushed cookie dust off her jacket. 

               “But, um, what sort of … price are we talking about?" 

               The goddess grinned, raising her eyebrows slightly as she regarded him. "One of my children recently traded an eye for the ability to make a real difference in the world." 

               Leo’s face turned green. "You ... want an eye? My eye?" 

               "In your case, perhaps another sacrifice would do. But something just as painful. Here." She handed him an unbroken fortune cookie. "If you need an answer, break this. It will solve your problem." 

               Leo's hand trembled as he held the fortune cookie. Abilene was worried he would open the fortune cookie right there; right where he stood. "What problem?" asked Leo. 

               "You'll know when the time comes." 

               "No, thanks," Leo said, his voice firm. But despite that answer, he still slipped the cookie into the tool belt that hung on his hips. 

               Nemesis picked another cookie from her bag and cracked it open. “You will have cause to reconsider your choices soon. Oh, I like that one. No changes needed here." She resealed the cookie and tossed it into the basket. "Very few gods will be able to help you on the quest. Most are already incapacitated, and their confusion will only grow worse. One thing might bring unity to Olympus again—an old wrong finally avenged. Ah, that would be sweet indeed, the scales finally balanced! But it will not happen unless you accept my help." 

               "I suppose you won't tell us what you're talking about," muttered Hazel. "Or why my brother Nico has only six days to live. Or why Rome is going to be destroyed." 

               Nemesis chuckled. She rose and slung her sack of cookies over her shoulder. "Oh, it's all tied together, Hazel Levesque. And Abilene Briar—I’m not just the Goddess of Vengeance, but also of Goddess of Balance. Balance is hard, and I know it requires sacrifice. Keep that in mind. As for my offer, Leo Valdez, give it some thought. You're a good child. A hard worker. We could do business. But I have detained you too long. You should visit the reflecting pool before the light fades. My poor cursed boy gets quite … agitated when the darkness comes." 

               Abilene had so many questions left, and any of the questions she had before hadn’t been answered. But before she could say anything—maybe a lame rebuttal that no, balance does not need sacrifice—Nemesis climbed on her motorcycle. Apparently, it was drivable—Nemesis revved her engine loudly, quickly disappearing in a mushroom cloud of black smoke down the sandy slope. ( Abilene swore some of the sand had gotten into her mouth as the goddess drove away. )

               Hazel bent down. All the broken cookies and fortunes had disappeared—except for one crumpled slip of paper. She picked it up and read: “You will see yourself reflected, and you will have reason to despair." 

               Abilene sighed, her head ducking down. “I really hate riddles …”

               “And add fortune cookies to that list,” Leo added miserably. “Let’s go see what that means."

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter six

━━ “WHO IS AUNT ROSA?” Hazel asked.

               Leo didn't want to answer Hazel’s question. He didn’t want to talk about Aunt Rosa at all. Nemesis's words were still buzzing in his ears. His tool belt seemed heavier since he'd put the cookie in there—which was impossible. Its pockets could carry anything without adding extra weight. Even the most fragile things would never break. Still, Leo imagined he could feel it in there, dragging him down, waiting to be cracked open. 

               "It’s a … long story," he finally answered, muttering under his breath. "She abandoned me after my mom died, gave me to foster care." 

               Hazel pursed her lips, taking a quick glance his way. “I’m sorry.” 

               "Yeah, well …" Leo was anxious to change the subject, his eyes darting out to the scene before them. "What about you? What Nemesis said about your brother?" 

               Hazel blinked like she'd gotten salt in her eyes. "Nico … he—uh—found me in the Underworld. He brought me back to the mortal world and convinced the Romans at Camp Jupiter to accept me. I owe him for my second chance at life. If Nemesis is right, and Nico's in danger … I—I have to help him." 

               “We will, Haze,” Abilene added suddenly, but even Leo could hear that her heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t know the brunette well, but he could tell she wasn’t much of a talker—at Camp Jupiter, she didn’t speak until Percy practically cornered her into the conversation; then on the Argo II, as Annabeth grilled Leo, Abilene stood back and watched. Some people were quieter than others; Leo wished he was, the number of times he put his foot in his mouth because he was unable to keep it closed … “We’ll get Nico. We will.”

               He watched Abilene curiously. “Nemesis mentioned something about your grandmother …?”

               She winced. “Yeah, uh …” Her eyes were trained on the ground as they walked. “I saw Nemesis as my—grandma. But it wasn’t actually my grandmother—I mean, not because it was Nemesis, but because I’ve never met her.”

               Leo frowned. “How do you resent someone you’ve never met?”

               As soon as he tumbled out of his mouth, he knew it was a stupid question; however, instead of snapping, Abilene looked deep in thought. “Right before I turned thirteen, I started getting letters from who I thought was my grandmother. I had never met her because she and my dad had a falling out way before I was born. So when I got the letter, I just assumed …” she shrugged, “she wanted to get to know her grandkid.”

               They walked for ten steps or so before she added; “She told in, in the letters, that I was a demigod; she knew all about gods, Camp Jupiter, even Lupa. I know it’s strange—the fact who I thought was my grandma was just … telling me I was a demigod—but I just figured she could see past the Mist. I didn’t think anything of it until Gaea admitted she posed as my grandmother.” Her eyebrows pinched as she glanced at the sun; it had dipped a little further west by now. “I don’t actually resent her. I don’t know her, I just … It’s complicated, I guess.”

               Leo nodded to himself quietly. He had no doubt it was complicated—to be Gaea’s daughter, having to fight against your own mom ( even if she wanted the end of the world ), had to be rough, double the fact Gaea apparently posed as Abilene’s grandmother to trick her. All of that made Gaea mega bad, but that was still Abilene’s mother. Leo didn’t like Hephaestus; granted, the god also hadn’t pretended to be Leo’s grandfather, but that’s beside the point; but it was still complicated. Hephaestus was his dad, even if he hadn’t been a dad for nearly sixteen years. ( Just because he claimed Leo last December didn’t mean he suddenly started to be a dad—he didn’t. ) 

               He wanted to ask more; to ask exactly what Gaea had told Abilene; but he knew the brunette had taken a leap even answering the question at all. For all he knows, Abilene could, like, use his bones as fertilizer if she wanted to get rid of him. “Yeah, I get it. So …” he looked at Hazel, “what Nemesis said about your brother—Nico?—having six days to live, and Rome getting destroyed … any idea what she meant?" 

               Hazel shook her head. "None," she admitted. "But I'm afraid …"

               Whatever she was thinking, she decided it was best not to share. Soon, the three fell into uncomfortable, heavy silence; Nemesis had all rattled them in different ways. Hazel climbed to the top of one of the largest boulders to have a better view of their surroundings. Abilene followed, and when Leo tried—he slipped and lost his balance. Before he fell the way back down, Hazel grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up. She quickly dropped his wrist, as if his skin burned her fingers. As subtly as he could, Leo glanced down—no, his wrist wasn’t burning with flames. 

               There wasn’t much room on the boulder. And as Hazel looked out toward the sun, her eyes glittered like gold. Gold is easy, she'd said. He wondered who Sammy was. Leo had a nagging suspicion that he should know, but he just couldn't place the name. Clearly, Sammy was important—if both Frank and Abilene wondered if Leo was Sammy, and especially since Hazel almost called him Sammy.

               "Uh … yeah, thanks." Leo wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Hazel’s hands were so warm; she definitely didn't seem like a dead person. 

               "When we were talking to Nemesis," Hazel started uneasily, glancing his way, "your hands …”

               “Fire,” finished Abilene, blocking the sunrays with her hand over her eyes. “Your dad’s God of Fire, isn’t he?”

               Leo nodded. “It’s a Hephaestus thing. Usually, I can keep it under control." 

               Abilene and Hazel quickly shared a glance, and Leo’s skin crawled. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know they were uncomfortable with the revelation. Silently, Abilene placed a hand on the front pocket of her shorts almost … protectively. Leo got the feeling that she wanted to back away from him, however, the boulder was too small. 

               Great, he thought bitterly. More people to think of me like I’m some scary freak.

               His eyes drifted across the island. The opposite shore was only a few hundred yards away. Between here and there were dunes and clumps of boulders, but nothing that looked like a reflecting pool. 

               You will always be the outsider, Nemesis had told him, the ninth wheel. You will not find a place among your brethren. 

               She may as well have poured acid into his ears. Leo didn't need anybody to tell him he was the odd man out. He'd spent months alone in Bunker 9 at Camp Half-Blood, working on his ship while his friends trained together, shared meals, and played Capture the Flag. Even when the others—Elisa, Piper, Delaney, and Jason—tried to keep him company, he knew they didn’t enjoy it down there in Bunker 9. Piper and Elisa tried to learn when they were around, but he knew he was basically talking to brick walls—they would nod along, humming and aweing as he explained what he was doing, but all the terminology would flow right back out their ears when they went to sleep that night. And Jason and Delaney—their idea of "quality time" didn't include Leo, hell, it didn’t even include Piper or Elisa. His only other friend, Festus the dragon, had been reduced to a figurehead when his control disk had gotten destroyed on their last adventure. Leo didn't have the technical skills to repair it. 

               The ninth wheel. Leo had heard of a fifth wheel—an extra, useless piece of equipment. He figured a ninth wheel was worse. Naïvely, Leo thought that maybe—just maybe—this quest would be a fresh start for him. All his hard work on the Argo II would pay off; he'd have eight good friends who would admire and appreciate him; eventually, they’d all go off sailing into the sunrise to fight giants and save the world. ( Maybe, part of him secretly hoped, he'd even find a girlfriend. )

               Do the math, he chided himself. Nemesis was right, and he hated that she was. He might be part of a group of nine demigods, but he was still isolated. He had fired on the Romans and brought his friends nothing but trouble ( and it hadn’t even been an entire day ). 

               You will not find a place among your brethren, Nemesis’s voice hissed in the back of his mind.

               “Leo.” Abilene still had her eyes shielded from the sun, but she was looking at him. “Don’t take what Nemesis said to heart.”

               Leo’s jaw set and he looked back to the opposite shore. He wondered how Abilene would say that despite seeing Nemesis as her own grandmother. “And what if Nemesis said is right?”

               "Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge," Abilene reminded him. "I met a couple of her kids at Camp—Dania Carr. She was nice enough, just always managed to get under someone’s skin. She got it from her mom, I bet.”

               “She might be on our side,” added Hazel. “Maybe not; but Nemesis exists to stir up resentment." 

               Leo wished he could dismiss his feelings so easily—but he couldn't. He took a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “We should keep going,” he said. "I wonder what Nemesis meant about finishing before dark." 

               Hazel glanced at the sun, which was just touching the horizon. "And who is the cursed boy she mentioned?" 

               Below them, a voice said, "Cursed boy she mentioned." 

               Leo jumped, his hand reaching for his tool belt. At first, he saw no one. Then his eyes adjusted. He frowned as he realized a young woman was standing only ten feet from the base of the boulder. She was dressed in a grey Greek-style tunic that matched with the rocks around them. 

               Her wispy hair was somewhere between brown and blond and grey—it shifted and blended with the dry grass. She wasn't invisible, not really, but she was well-camouflaged—until she moved, that is. Even when she did move, Leo had trouble focusing on her. Her face was pretty but not memorable. In fact, each time Leo blinked, he couldn't remember what she looked like—not even where she had been, having to narrow his eyes and search again.

               Hazel took a sharp intake of breath, her eyes darting around. Hesitantly, she greeted: "Hello. Who are you?" 

               "Who are you?" answered the mysterious girl. Her voice sounded quiet and weary, like she was tired of answering that question. 

               Leo, Abilene, and Hazel all exchanged looks. Leo learned early on with this demigod business, you’re never quite sure who—or what—you will run into.  Nine times out of ten, it wasn't good. It was natural that all three of them were hesitant of the girl who seemed to naturally camouflage herself with the earth's scenery.

               "Are you the cursed kid Nemesis mentioned?" Leo asked. "But … you're a girl." 

               "You're a girl," said the girl. 

               Leo’s face twisted. Quietly, Abilene pursed her lips as her shoulders shook a bit as she bit back a chuckle; he scowled at the brunette. "Excuse me?" He turned back to the ninja, camouflage girl. 

               "Excuse me," the girl sighed, sound miserable. 

               "You're repeating …" Leo stopped, looking at the girl closer. His eyes widened as he realized. "Oh. Hold it. Hazel, Abilene—wasn't there some myth about a girl who repeated everything—?" 

               “Echo," Hazel answered. 

               "Echo," the girl agreed. She shuffled on her feet, and as she did, her cress changed with the landscape. Her eyes were the color of the salt water. Leo tried to hone in on her features, but he couldn't.

               "I don't remember the myth," he admitted, finding himself apologetic to Echo. It had to have stung to not even have your myth be remembered. "But … you were cursed to repeat the last thing you heard?" 

               "You heard," repeated Echo. 

               Hazel’s expression softened. "Poor thing … I’m so sorry," she apologized despite the apology holding little to no weight. What could Hazel do for Echo? "If I remember right, a goddess did this?" 

               "A goddess did this," Echo confirmed. 

               Leo scratched his head. "But wasn't that thousands of years ... Oh. You're one of the mortals who came back through the Doors of Death. I really wish we could stop running into dead people." 

               “Leo,” Abilene hissed, frowning at him, “don’t say that!”

               "Don’t say that," Echo agreed, her expression hard to read as it turned the color of sand. 

               “Wha—” Leo looked between Abilene, Echo, and Hazel. His mouth made a small O shape when he looked at the daughter of Pluto; Hazel was staring at her feet, picking at the underneath of her nails. "Hey, I didn’t—” He pursed his lips, wishing he could rewind time for the hundredth time for the day. “I didn’t mean it that way …”

               "That way." Echo pointed toward the far shore of the island.  

               "You want to show us something?" Hazel asked, climbing down the boulder to step after Echo. Leo got the feeling Hazel was eager to leave him and his inconsiderate words behind. He winced to himself as Abilene followed after Hazel and Echo; he had no choice but to follow. 

               Even up close, Echo was hard to see. In fact, she seemed to get more invisible the longer he looked at her. 

               "Are you sure you're real?" he asked before he could think twice about it. "I mean—” he started to backtrack, racking his mind to find a more considerate way to ask, “flesh and blood?" 

               “Leo—really?” chided Abilene.

               Echo turned around as they slowed their walk to a crawl. She watched him intently, her eyes now the color of muddied grass—she reached a hand out, and his breath hitched when her fingers touched his cheek. Her fingers were warm. “Really,” she replied, her answer soft.

               “So … you have to repeat everything?" he asked. 

               "Everything." 

               Leo couldn't help but smile. "That could be fun." 

               Echo scowled. "Fun," she repeated unhappily. 

               "Blue elephants." 

               "Blue elephants,” sighed Echo.

               "Kiss me, you fool." 

               "You fool." 

               Leo’s jaw dropped. "Hey!" he cried indignantly. 

               "Hey!" 

               "Leo," Hazel pleaded as Abilene rolled her eyes silently, "don't tease her." 

               “I wasn’t teasing her!” he replied quickly.

               "Teasing her," Echo argued, placing her hands on her now sandy-colored tunic. She didn’t agree with Leo’s assessment, clearly.

               "Okay, okay," Leo said, holding up his hands in surrender. Though, he had to resist the urge. It wasn't every day he met somebody with a built-in talkback feature. "So what were you pointing at? Do you need our help?" 

               "Help," Echo agreed emphatically. She gestured for them to follow before sprinting down the slope. Leo could only follow her progress by the movement of the grass and the shimmer of her dress as it changed to match the rocks. 

               "We'd better hurry," Hazel said. "Or we'll lose her."

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Leo wasn’t so sure if he wanted to call the problem a problem. Though, now that he thought about it … Nine times out of ten, when he met pretty girls, they ended up wanting to kill him and his friends—so maybe, a mob of good-looking girls was a problem.

               Echo led them down into a grassy meadow that sloped down—they had to take small, practically minuscule steps so they didn’t roll down the grass and into rocks and boulders, eventually finding themselves at the bottom of what looked like a blast crater. There was a small pond in the middle; it was beautiful, with water clearer than Leo had ever seen from any pond. Gathered at the water's edge were several dozen nymphs. At least, Leo guessed they were nymphs. These nymphs wore the same gossamer dresses that the ones back at Camp Half-Blood did. Their feet were bare; they had elfish features; their skin had a slightly greenish tinge, as if they were made up of grass, leaves, and vines to which their souls were connected.

               Leo had no idea what these nymphs were doing, but they were all crowded together in one spot, facing the pond and jostling for a better view. Several held up phone cameras ( he didn’t even think nymphs could have phones; demigods couldn’t, so he assumed nymphs couldn’t, as well, but he was clearly wrong ), trying to get a shot over the heads of the others. He wondered if they were looking at a dead body ( morbid, sure, but he couldn’t put anything past Greek mythology once he knew it was all real ). But if they were, why were they bouncing up and down and giggling? 

               "What are they looking at?" he wondered aloud. 

               Echo slumped, her expression sad as she watched. "Looking at."

               Hazel watched the scene for a moment, her eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. She took a deep breath, steeling her shoulders. “One way to find out,” she admitted, and then marched forward. She began nudging her way through the crowd; however, Abilene and Leo stayed behind, exchanging glances, neither eager to elbow their way into a crowd of giggling nymphs. But they had no other choice, meaning they had to follow after Hazel, bobbing and weaving through the nymph mosh pit.

               "Hey!" one nymph complained as Leo squeezed past her. "We were here first!" 

               "Yeah," another sniffed, looking resentfully at Hazel. "He won't be interested in you." This nymph had large red hearts painted on her cheeks. Over her dress, she wore a T-shirt that read: OMG I <3 N!!!! 

               “N ...?” asked Abilene quietly, frowning at the shirt. “Or … is it M?” She looked at Hazel, who only shrugged; all three of them were dyslexic, it comes with the territory of being a demigod. 

               "Uh, demigod business," Leo said, trying to sound official. "Make room. Gracias." 

               The nymphs grumbled, but they parted to reveal a young man kneeling at the edge of the pond, gazing intently at the water. 

               Abilene’s eyes widened. “Whoa …”

               Her reaction was understandable. Even as someone who tried not to pay much attention to how guys looked, Leo had to admit this guy was more than just some super good-looking dude. His face was like a painted Greek bust: a chiseled face and jaw, and his lips and eyes were crafted to be a perfect mix of feminine and masculine—he was beautiful and handsome at the same time. Dark hair swept over his brow. He might’ve been seventeen or twenty, it was hard to tell; however, he was built like a dancer—with long graceful arms and muscular legs, perfect posture, and an air of regal calm around him. He wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans, with a bow and quiver strapped to his back. The weapons obviously hadn't been used in a while as the arrows were covered in dust and a spider had woven a web atop the bow. 

               As they edged closer, Leo realized the guy's face was unusually golden. In the sunset, the light was bouncing off a large flat sheet of Celestial bronze lying at the bottom of the pond. It washed the stranger’s features in a warm glow. And the guy was extremely fascinated with his reflection in the metal.

               Hazel inhaled sharply. "He's gorgeous." 

               Around them, the nymphs squealed and clapped in agreement. 

               "I am," the young man murmured dreamily. Still, his gaze did not leave his reflection in the water. "I am so gorgeous." 

               One of the nymphs showed the three her iPhone screen. "His latest YouTube video got a million hits in, like, an hour. I think I was half of those!" She giggled, turning the screen back to herself as she restarted the video. The other nymphs giggled along with her. 

               "YouTube video?" Leo asked. "What does he do in the video—sing?" 

               "No, silly!" the nymph chided. "He used to be a prince, and a wonderful hunter and stuff. But that doesn't matter. Now he just ... Well, look!" She showed Leo the video, and his expression turned more incredulous. It was exactly what they were seeing in real life—the guy staring at himself in the pond. 

               "He is so hot!" said another girl. Her T-shirt read: MRS. NARCISSUS. 

               “Narcissus?” Leo asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly. 

               "Narcissus," Echo agreed sadly. 

               Leo had forgotten Echo was there. Apparently, none of the nymphs had noticed her either. 

               "Oh, not you again!" Mrs. Narcissus tried to push Echo away, but she misjudged where the camouflaged girl was and ended up shoving several other nymphs. 

               "You had your chance, Echo!" said the nymph with the iPhone. "He dumped you four thousand years ago! You are so not good enough for him." 

               "For him," Echo repeated, sounding incredibly bitter. 

               Abilene started to frown at Narcissus. “Hey, wait …” She seemed to have trouble tearing her eyes away from Narcissus, but she managed. “You want him? He’s so … full of himself. All he cares about is his own reflection!”

               "Wait." Hazel held out her hand, looking at Echo and the other nymphs. "What's going on here? Why did Echo bring us here?" 

               One nymph rolled her eyes. She was holding an autograph pen and a crumpled poster of Narcissus. "Echo was a nymph like us, a long time ago, but she was a total chatterbox! Gossiping, blah, blah, blah—all the time.” 

               "I know!" another nymph shrieked. "Like, who could stand that? Just the other day, I told Cleopeia—you know she lives in the boulder next to me?—I said: Stop gossiping or you'll end up like Echo. Cleopeia is such a loudmouth! Did you hear what she said about that cloud nymph and the satyr?" 

               "Totally!" said the nymph with the poster. She nodded like this was a topic they had discussed very thoroughly beforehand. "So, anyway, as punishment for blabbing, Hera cursed Echo so she could only repeat things, which was fine with us. But then Echo fell in love with our gorgeous guy, Narcissus—as if he would ever notice her." 

               "As if!" said half a dozen others.

               “Hera …” Abilene crossed her arms, looking back to Narcissus. “Doesn’t shock me, I s’pose.” 

               "Now she's got some weird idea he needs saving," said Mrs. Narcissus. "She should just go away." 

               Vaguely, Leo could see Echo clench her hands into two fists. "Go away," she growled back. 

               "I'm so glad Narcissus is alive again," said another nymph in a grey dress. She had the words NARCISSUS + LAIEA written up and down her arms in black marker. "He's like the best! And he's in my territory." 

               "Oh, stop it, Laiea," her friend said. "I'm the pond nymph. You're just the rock nymph." 

               "Well, I'm the grass nymph," another protested. 

               "No, he obviously came here because he likes the wildflowers!" another argued. "Those are mine!" 

               The whole group of nymphs began arguing while Narcissus stared at the lake, completely ignoring them. Leo wasn’t sure if Mr. Handsome even blinked, let alone even look away from his reflection.

               "Wait—hey! Hold it!" Leo held up his hands, yelling over the noise of bickering nymphs. “¡Basta! I need to ask Narcissus something." 

               Slowly the nymphs settled down and went back to taking pictures. Leo quietly knelt next to the prince. "So, Narcissus … What's up?" 

               "Could you move?" Narcissus replied back, his tone very distracted. "You're ruining the view." 

               Leo looked in the water. His own reflection rippled next to Narcissus's on the surface of the submerged bronze. Leo had no desire to stare at himself. Compared to Narcissus, he looked like a mess. But there was no doubt the metal was a sheet of hammered Celestial bronze, roughly circular, about five feet in diameter. 

               He had no clue what the bronze was doing here, though Leo did have one idea … Celestial bronze fell to earth in odd places. Over the months in Cabin Nine, he heard that most pieces were cast off from his dad's various workshops. Hephaestus would lose his temper when projects didn't work out, and then the god would toss his scraps into the mortal world out of anger. This piece looked like it might have been meant as a shield for a god, but it hadn't turned out properly. If Leo could get it back to the ship … It would be just enough bronze for his repairs. 

               "Right, great view," Leo said with a snappy tone. "Happy to move, but if you're not using it, could I just take that sheet of bronze?" 

               "No," Narcissus replied immediately. "I love him. He's so gorgeous." 

               Leo glanced back at the nymphs, trying to figure out if this was one gigantic prank planned by Nemesis. But, no, it didn’t seem to be—all the nymphs were swooning and nodding in agreement. “Dude …” Leo started to tell Narcissus, “you do realize that you're looking at yourself in the water, right?" 

               The prince sighed dreamily. "I am so great." He stretched out a hand, longing to touch the water—to touch his reflection—, but held back. "No, I can't make ripples. That ruins the image. Wow … I am so great." 

               "Yeah …" Leo muttered. "But if I took the bronze, you could still see yourself in the water. Or here ..." He reached into his tool belt and pulled out a simple mirror the size of a monocle. "I'll trade you.”

               Narcissus took the mirror, reluctantly, and admired himself. "Even you carry a picture of me? I don't blame you. I am gorgeous. Thank you." He set the mirror down and returned his attention to the pond. "But I already have a much better image. The color flatters me, don't you think?" 

               "Oh, gods, yes!" a nymph screamed. "Marry me, Narcissus!" 

               "No, me!" another cried. "Would you sign my poster?" 

               "No, sign my shirt—!" 

               "—No, sign my forehead—!" 

               "—No, sign my—!" 

               "Stop it!" Hazel snapped. 

               "Stop it," Echo agreed with an equally angry tone. 

               Leo had lost sight of Echo again. But when he found her—Echo was kneeling on the other side of Narcissus, waving her hand in front of his face as if trying to break his concentration. But Narcissus just looked right through her. Leo frowned—he felt invisible at times, but he couldn’t imagine blending in with his surroundings.

               Behind them, the nymph fan club tried to shove Hazel and Abilene out of the way; however, Abilene drew her falx sword and yelled, “Get back!” Her words probably wouldn’t have done much, but her sword did the trick. The nymphs all grumbled irritatedly, but they did back away.

               "He won't sign your sword," the poster nymph complained. 

               "He won't marry you," said the iPhone girl. "And you can't take his bronze mirror! That's what keeps him here!" 

               “I don’t want any signature from him.” Abilene rolled her eyes, growing frustrated at the nymphs’ attitudes. “You’re all ridiculous. He’s so … full of himself! Besides his face, what is there to like? Beauty is not everything.”

               "Not everything," Echo sighed sadly, still waving her hand in front of his face. 

               The others sighed along with her. 

               "I am so hot," Narcissus said sympathetically. 

               "Narcissus, listen." Hazel pulled out her calvary sword, keeping it at the ready. "Echo brought us here to help you. Didn't you, Echo?" 

               "Echo," said Echo. 

               The prince frowned. "Who?"

               "The only girl who cares what happens to you, apparently," Hazel replied. "Do you remember dying?" 

               This question made Narcissus’s brows furrowed. He might have even blinked—something about his face faltered. "I ... No. That can't be right. I am much too important to die." 

               Abilene frowned. “Death doesn’t care about that.” She spoke like she knew firsthand.

               "You died staring at yourself," Hazel insisted, trying to implore Narcissus to think about anything but the curve of his nose or the arch of his brows. "I remember the story now. Nemesis was the goddess who cursed you, because you broke so many hearts. Your punishment was to fall in love with your own reflection." 

               "I love me so, so much," Narcissus agreed. 

               “And all you did was stare at yourself,” continued Abilene. “You stared and stared—eventually dying, though I’ve heard the story different ways. You either drowned yourself or … you turned into a flower hanging over the water.” She looked at Echo. “Which one is true?” 

               Echo shook her head miserably as she repeated; "One is true."

               Leo stood, glaring at the reflections of Narcissus and himself. "It doesn't matter. The point is you're alive again, man. You have a second chance. That's what Nemesis was telling us. You can get up, and get on with your life. Echo is trying to save you. Or you can stay here and stare at yourself until you die again." 

               "Stay here!" all the nymphs screamed. 

               "Marry me before you die!" another squeaked. 

               Narcissus shook his head. "You just want my reflection,” he told Leo. “I don't blame you, but you can't have it. I belong to me." 

               Hazel sighed with exasperation. She glanced at the sun, which was sinking fast. Then she gestured with her sword toward the edge of the crater. "Abi, Leo—could we talk for a minute?" 

               "Excuse us," Leo told Narcissus; however, Narcissus acted like he didn’t even speak. "Echo, want to come with?" 

               "Come with," Echo confirmed. 

               The nymphs clustered around Narcissus again, recording new videos and taking more photos. 

               Hazel led the way, not speaking a word until they were certainly out of earshot. Then, she turned to Leo, Abilene, and Echo. "Nemesis was right," she decided with a shake of her head. "Some demigods can't change their nature. Narcissus is going to stay there until he dies again." 

               "No," Leo said. 

               "No," Echo agreed. 

               “I dunno …” mumbled Abilene. “To change you have to want to change. I don’t think he does, but …” She glanced at Echo, whose face turned more crestfallen than before. Her eyes widened and she quickly added; “I mean—people do deserve second chances, ‘course!”

               “‘Course …” Echo repeated.

               "We need that bronze," Leo insisted, his eyes trailing over to the pond and Narcissus’s golden face. "If we take it away, it might give Narcissus a reason to snap out of it. Echo could have a chance to save him." 

               "A chance to save him," Echo said gratefully. 

               Hazel stabbed her sword in the sand. She shook her head, deep in thought. "It could also make several dozen nymphs very angry with us," she pointed out. "And Narcissus might still know how to shoot his bow." 

               Leo thought about this, his eyes drifting over to the orange-colored sun—it was just about to disappear now completely. Nemesis had mentioned that Narcissus got agitated after dark, probably because he couldn't see his reflection anymore. Leo didn't want to stick around long enough to find out what the goddess meant by agitated. He'd also had experience with mobs of crazed nymphs, and he wasn’t eager to repeat that situation again ( and he doubted Dionysus would be keen to let Leo pretend to be him again with no Elisa around ).

               "Hazel," he said, a plan starting to form in his mind, "your power with precious metal—Can you just detect it, or can you actually summon it to you?" 

               She frowned. "Sometimes I can summon it. I've never tried with a piece of Celestial bronze that big before. I might be able to draw it to me through the earth, but I'd have to be fairly close. It would take a lot of concentration, and it wouldn't be fast." 

               "Be fast," Echo warned. 

               “I could help,” offered Abilene, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Make a tunnel in the earth, maybe, for the bronze to travel through.”

               Leo snickered. “Like, what? A badger?” But he cleared his throat when Abilene’s head jerked around to glare at him. “I mean … how close do you have to be to do it?”

               The daughter of Gaea thought for a moment. “... Close,” she decided. “Maybe if it was before … Never mind. I couldn’t do it from the Argo II, if that’s what you’re asking. I could maybe do it from the top of the slope.”

               Leo cursed. He had hoped they could just go back to the ship, and Hazel could teleport the Celestial bronze from a safe ( and protected ) distance. And he thought—for a moment—Abilene could make that easier. "All right," he decided. "We'll have to try something risky. Hazel, how about you try to summon the bronze from right here? Abilene, you help her do that—making the tunnel, splitting the earth, whatever you think will work. Whenever you get it, make a run for the ship.” 

               "But Narcissus is looking at it all the time," Hazel pointed out, frowning deeply. 

               "All the time," Echo echoed. 

               "That'll be my job," Leo said, hating his own plan already. "Echo and I will cause a distraction." 

               Abilene quickly looked between him and Echo. “You will? What kind of distraction?”

               “Distraction?” Echo also asked.

               "I'll explain," Leo promised. "Are you willing?" 

               "Willing," Echo said. 

               Abilene and Hazel exchanged looks, but they ended up nodding. 

               “Great,” said Leo. “Now, let’s hope we don’t die.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

If this plan was going to work ( by the gods, Leo hopes it does ), he needed a makeover. He summoned some breath mints and a pair of welding goggles from his tool belt ( they weren’t exactly sunglasses, but they'd have to do ). He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He used some machine oil to grease back his hair. He stuck a wrench in his back pocket ( why exactly, he wasn't sure ) and he had Hazel draw a tattoo on his biceps with a marker: HOT STUFF, with a skull and crossbones.

               Abilene eyed the HOT STUFF tattoo, arching a suspicious brow. “You don’t seriously think this is going to work, do you?”

               He grinned at the brunette. "I try not to think," he admitted. "It interferes with being nuts. Just concentrate on moving that Celestial bronze. Echo, you ready?" 

               "Ready," she said. 

               Leo took a deep breath, trying his best to look tough as he puffed out his chest. He strutted back toward the pond, hoping he looked awesome and not like he had some sort of nervous affliction. "Leo is the coolest!" he shouted. 

               "Leo is the coolest!" Echo shouted back. 

               "Yeah, baby, check me out!" 

               "Check me out!" Echo said. 

               "Make way for the king!" 

               "The king!" 

               "Narcissus is weak!" 

               "Weak!" 

               The crowd of nymphs scattered in surprise. Leo shooed them away as if they were bothering him. "No autographs, girls. I know you want some Leo Time, but I'm way too cool. You better just hang around that ugly dweeb Narcissus. He's lame!" 

               "Lame!" Echo said with enthusiasm. 

               The nymphs muttered angrily. 

               "What are you talking about?" one demanded. 

               "You're lame!" said another. 

               Leo adjusted his goggles and tried for his best troublemaker smile. He flexed his biceps, though he didn't have much to flex, and he showed off his HOT STUFF tattoo. He definitely had the nymphs' attention, if only because they were stunned; Narcissus, however, was still fixed on his own reflection. 

               "You know how ugly Narcissus is?" Leo asked the crowd. "He's so ugly, when he was born his mama thought he was a backward centaur—with a horse butt for a face!" 

               Some of the nymphs gasped. Narcissus frowned, as though he was vaguely aware of a gnat buzzing around his head. 

               "You know why his bow has cobwebs?" Leo continued loudly. "He uses it to hunt for dates, but he can't find one!" 

               One of the nymphs laughed. The others quickly elbowed her into silence. 

               Narcissus turned and scowled at Leo. "Who are you?" 

               "I'm the Super-sized McShizzle, man!" Leo said. "I'm Leo Valdez, bad boy supreme. And the ladies love a bad boy." 

               "Love a bad boy!" Echo added with a convincing squeal. 

               Leo took out a pen and autographed the arm of one of the nymphs. She was too shocked to move away. "Narcissus is a loser! He's so weak, he can't bench-press a Kleenex. He's so lame; when you look up lame on Wikipedia, it's got a picture of Narcissus—only the picture's so ugly, no one ever checks it out." 

               Narcissus’s face was changing from bronze to a flushed pink. His brows knitted together, and for a second, he totally forgot about the pond. Leo could see the sheet of bronze sinking into the sand. "What are you talking about?" he demanded from Leo. "I am amazing. Everyone knows this." 

               "Amazing at pure suck," Leo said. "If I was as suck as you, I'd drown myself—Oh wait, you already did that!" 

               Another nymph giggled. Then another. Narcissus growled, his nostrils flaring as his hands clenched into fists. Meanwhile, Leo beamed and wiggled his eyebrows over his goggles. He spread his hands to the nymphs, gesturing for applause. "That's right!" he said. "Team Leo for the win!" 

               "Team Leo for the win!" Echo shouted. She'd wriggled into the mob of nymphs, and because she was so hard to see, the nymphs apparently thought the voice came from one of their own. 

               "Oh my god, I am so awesome!" Leo bellowed. 

               "So awesome!" Echo yelled back. 

               "He is funny …" a nymph ventured, watching him curiously over her iPhone. 

               "And cute—in a scrawny way," another admitted. 

               "Scrawny?" Leo asked. "Baby, I invented scrawny. Scrawny is the new sizzling hot. And I got the scrawny. But Narcissus? He's such a loser even the Underworld didn't want him. He couldn't get the ghost girls to date him." 

               "Ew!" a nymph squealed. 

               "Ew!" Echo agreed. 

               "Stop!" Narcissus got to his feet. "This is not right! This person is obviously not awesome, so he must be …" He struggled for the right words. It had probably been a long time since he'd talked about anything other than himself. "He—he must be tricking us." 

               Apparently, Narcissus wasn't as stupid as Leo thought he was. Realization dawned on his face and he spun back around, facing the pond. "The bronze mirror is gone! My reflection! Give me back to me!" 

               "Team Leo!" one of the nymphs squeaked. But the others returned their attention to Narcissus. 

               "I'm the beautiful one!" the prince insisted. "He's stolen my mirror, and I'm going to leave unless we get it back!" 

               The girls gasped. Suddenly, one pointed upwards. "There!" 

               Leo winced slightly, but he looked. At the top of the crater were Abilene and Hazel as they tried to run away. The two were cradling the bronze shield between the two of them.  

               "Get it back!" cried a nymph. 

               Probably against her will, Echo muttered, "Get it back." 

               "Yes!" Narcissus unslung his bow and grabbed an arrow from his dusty quiver. "The first one who gets that bronze, I will like you almost as much as I like me. I might even kiss you—right after I kiss my reflection!" 

               "Oh my gods!" the nymphs screamed. 

               "And kill those demigods!" Narcissus added, glaring very handsomely at Leo. "They are not as cool as me!”

               “Ah … mierda,” Leo cursed. He dropped the bad boy persona, climbing up the slope as quickly as he could. He overtook Hazel and Abilene, which was easy considering the fact they were struggling with fifty pounds of Celestial bronze. He grabbed one side of the metal plate and glanced back. Narcissus was nocking an arrow, but it was so old and brittle, it broke into splinters. "Ow!" the prince cried out. "My manicure!" 

               Normally nymphs were quick—at least the ones at Camp Half-Blood were—but these were burdened with posters, T-shirts, and other Narcissus™ merchandise. These nymphs also weren’t adept at working as a team. They kept stumbling over one another, pushing and shoving. They were hardly making it up the slope, quickly turning into a nymph stampede. Echo didn’t make things any easier for them—she kept running among them, tripping and tackling as many as she could. 

               But still, with a fifty-pound sheet of Celestial bronze slowing Leo and his friends down, the nymphs were closing rapidly. 

               "Call Arion!" Leo gasped. The three struggled along as they pulled the bronze across the grass and toward the beach.

               "Already did!" Hazel gasped.

               They hurried for the beach, pulling and tugging and running as they went. They made it to the edge of the water, and Leo could just see the Argo II, but there was no way to get there. It was much too far to swim, even if they hadn't been toting fifty pounds of bronze. They had to skid to a stop where the beach and the water met. Leo turned, gasping for air, his lungs feeling like they were collapsing in on themselves. The mob was coming over the dunes with Narcissus in the lead, holding his bow like a band major's baton. The nymphs had conjured assorted weapons—rocks, wooden clubs wreathed in flowers, and even some … squirt guns. You wouldn’t think some nymphs with squirt guns would be scary, but Leo disagreed—mostly for the murderous look in these nymphs’ eyes.

               "Oh, shit …" Leo muttered. He summoned a ball of fire in his free hand. "Straight-up fighting isn't my thing." 

               "Hold the Celestial bronze." Hazel drew her sword, letting Abilene and Leo bear the weight of fifty pounds. "Get behind me!" 

               "Get behind me!" Echo repeated. The camouflaged nymph was racing ahead of the mob by now. She stopped in front of Leo and turned, throwing her arms out wide as if she meant personally to shield him.

               "Echo?" Leo could hardly talk with the lump in his throat. "You're one brave nymph." 

               She glanced back at him. "Brave nymph?" Her tone made it a question. 

               "I'm proud to have you on Team Leo," he told her. "If we survive this, you should forget Narcissus." 

               "Forget Narcissus?" she said uncertainly. 

               "You're way too good for him." 

               The nymphs surrounded them in a semicircle, making them back up until Leo and Abilene’s feet touched the water. 

               "Trickery!" Narcissus pointed his dusty bow at them. "They don't love me, girls! We all love me, don't we?" 

               "Yes!" the girls screamed, except for one confused nymph in a yellow dress who squeaked: "Team Leo!" 

               "Kill them!" Narcissus ordered. 

               The nymphs surged forward, but the sand in front of them exploded. Out of nowhere, Arion raced around—circling the mob so quickly that he created a small sandstorm, showering the nymphs in white lime, and spraying their eyes. 

               Leo let out a laugh that was a mix of relief and insanity. “I love this horse!”

               The nymphs collapsed, coughing and gagging. Narcissus stumbled around blindly, swinging his bow like he was trying to hit a piñata. 

               Hazel climbed into the saddle. She and Abilene hoisted up the bronze, and then Hazel pulled Abilene up. She then offered Leo a hand.

               "We can't leave Echo!" he found himself shouting. 

               "Leave Echo," the nymph echoed sadly. 

               He spun around, startled. For a moment, he wondered if he could throw her on Arion’s back, but then—she smiled, and he felt like he was truly seeing her for the first time. He could clearly see her face, no more was she blending in with the rocks or sand. She really was pretty. Genuine beauty; she wasn’t full of herself. 

               "But … why?" he asked. "You don't think you can still save Narcissus …?" 

               "Save Narcissus," she said confidently. And even though it was only an echo, Leo knew that Echo meant it. She'd been given a second chance at life, and she was determined to use it to save the guy she loved—even if he was a completely hopeless ( though very handsome ) moron. 

               Leo wanted to protest, but Echo leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then she pushed him gently away. But he didn’t move. “Narcissus doesn’t see you,” he tried to tell her. “He doesn’t … care about you.”

               Echo pursed her lips. Not in an angry manner, but in a He doesn’t understand type of way. “Care about you,” she repeated, nodding. 

               "Leo, come on!" called Abilene. “We need to go!”

               The other nymphs were starting to recover. They wiped the lime out of their eyes, which were now glowing green with anger. Leo looked for Echo again, but she had dissolved into the scenery. 

               "Yeah," he said. His throat was as dry as sandpaper. "Yeah, okay." 

               He climbed up behind Abilene. Arion took off across the water, the nymphs screaming behind them, and Narcissus shouting, "Bring me back! Bring me back!" But soon, they were nothing but blimps on the lime beach. As Arion raced toward the Argo II, Leo remembered what Nemesis had said about Echo and Narcissus: Perhaps they’ll teach you a lesson. Leo had thought she'd meant Narcissus, but now he wondered if the real lesson for him was Echo—invisible to her brethren, cursed to love someone who didn't care for her. A ninth wheel. He tried to shake that thought. He clung to the sheet of bronze like a shield. 

               Leo was determined never to forget Echo's face. She deserved at least one person who saw her and knew how good she was—but when he closed his eyes, the memory of her smile was already fading.

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter seven

━━ ADMITTEDLY, ELISA DIDN’T think about her past often. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t know what there was to think about, either—Liliana Bardales, Silas Flowers, or Durango, Colorado. It had been so long ago now that nothing could change what happened, not even Elisa’s thoughts on it all could change ( and neither could her guilt and anger; those things always seemed to stick to her like glue ). 

               As to who she was as a person, Elisa preferred to run from the past. Unfortunately, it also seemed to stick to her like glue. And she didn’t think about her past because it was this deep, dark abyss that she knew she would be quickly sucked into. It had happened before—those years she spent on the run, trying to make her way to Camp Half-Blood. Her past was all she thought about, and it nearly consumed her whole. Lost, alone, and in desperation, all she had lost when Maurelle attacked her was all she thought about—Elisa yearned for that old life back, even if it wasn’t the greatest. She never knew the comfort of having a roof over her head ( even if it was with a mother who was struggling with alcohol ) until she lost it. 

               This dark, deep abyss that was her past followed her; it stuck to her like glue; and Elisa had the tendency to let it consume her. The unfed mind devours itself, a line from some American author Annabeth read a year or so ago ( his name was Gore Vidal, she was pretty sure ). Elisa’s isolation, her fear, and her anger at it all nearly consumed her. She practically wasn’t human anymore by the time Elisa accidentally boarded a train to Bar Harbor, Maine. She was more like a rabid wolf—snapping, clawing, and sinking her teeth into anything she thought might just be the answer to her prayers. 

               Elisa knew that tendency was her dangerous pattern. Everyone had patterns, and everyone had dangerous and bad patterns. Her pattern was anger; it was her fatal flaw. 

               It happened in the small town she was born in. It happened with the woman who gave birth to her. It happened with her maternal side turning their backs on Elisa and her mother. It happened with her father going A.W.O.L. It happened with the aloof stories Liliana told of Elisa’s even more aloof father. Elisa was angry at it all. She was angry at the cards that she had been dealt — at the suffocating small town, at the alcoholic mother, at the Bardales’ throwing Liliana ( and subsequently, Elisa ) aside, and at her father abandoning her before she was even born. The anger consumed her, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never quite get rid of the anger. It was like the devil on her shoulder, always tugging on her ear, whispering reminders of what she should still be angry about.

               Dionysus had warned her last December. Even before then, she knew her wrath was a problem. It was why Brian Anders was dead, it was why Elisa still didn’t understand how Bianca would join the Hunters and leave Nico behind, it was why Maverick, another son of Bia was dead, too. It was why Elisa still couldn’t quite forgive Silena for being the spy. 

               No matter what Elisa wanted, the anger; the wrath; was still there. Almost … boiling under her skin, like a parasite. It whispered to her, like the devil on the shoulder.

               Even now, it was with her. She snapped at Percy for him not being able to magically find a way to tell her about Nico. She knew it was wrong to become angry with him, but the wrath slipped off her tongue and out into the world. Her anger may be justified, but it was wrongly misplaced. She knew that, but that didn’t ease the weight of it any; if anything, it became more burdensome. Now, she was taking out this anger on people who didn’t deserve it—Percy was the last person who needed anger aimed at him.

               All demigods have that one flaw; that fatal flaw. The one part of them that will get them killed if caught in the wrong scenario ( and as demigods, those “wrong” scenarios are unfortunately common ). Percy’s fatal flaw was loyalty—that unwavering decision to stick by someone, no matter how they are or where they are. As annoying and endearing as that trait is ( in the same breath, somehow ), that unwavering loyalty was probably the reason Elisa is still alive. When they met at fourteen, in Westover Hall, as Percy tried to play hero and save her, Bianca, and Nico from a manticore, he deemed himself tied to Elisa. He deemed himself a hero, and he deemed Elisa worthy of this loyalty. Despite the bad things that stuck to her like glue and the dark hole she nearly found herself lost in, Percy didn’t give up. 

               She still wasn’t quite sure why Percy decided to play hero and loyally bound himself to her. She didn’t know if it was just to play hero, or to stick it to Dionysus and become friends with his daughter, or if it was both — or a reason completely unknown to Elisa. Part of her didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know what he had thought of her at the time. She didn’t like who she was when they met. She was far more angry then; the anger nearly consumed her, and it probably would have if Percy hadn’t been there.

               It wasn’t fair to say that he was solely the reason. Elisa wanted to change; even back then, she didn’t like how angry she was. But when you’re in that cycle, it’s hard to get out. It’s like a large whirlpool, and you’re going around and around as you try to find anything to cling onto. Percy was just a big push, he was the tree root she could grab ahold of and pull herself to shore. If it wasn’t for Nico, Castor and Pollux, Drew, Annabeth, or even Silena, Elisa wouldn’t be … what she is now. Especially Nico. After Bianca died, she knew she had to become better, if not just for herself but for Nico. 

               It had been solely him and Bianca for all he could remember. Losing a sibling is hard enough, but to be in Nico’s shoes—to know nothing but Bianca, and then to lose her not just once, but twice ( even three times ), she knew he needed someone, even if Nico would never admit it. They’re very similar—her and Nico. She saw a lot of herself in him, especially after Bianca’s death. Back then, she knew she couldn’t help him completely, but she at least knew what he was feeling, if only slightly. She knew that consuming anger, not of just the person who you felt wronged by, but of that anger for yourself. 

               Maybe that’s why she was so angry about Nico being missing and only now just finding out. She had taken it upon herself to be that tree root in the whirlpool Nico was in, and she had failed him. She couldn’t do what Percy had been able to do for her. She could only hope Nico wouldn’t see it the way she would see the situation—that she had failed him when he needed her most ( after Bianca’s death ). 

               She almost felt … disgusted with herself. She had been so preoccupied with Percy going missing back in December that she hadn’t tried her hardest to stay in touch with Nico. At the time, she rationalized to herself that Nico liked being by himself and that he tended to keep people at arm’s length ( and that is true ), but maybe if she had tried harder, he wouldn’t have gone looking for the Doors and disappeared. 

               But still, Elisa had failed Nico. She felt disgusted by herself.

               It also didn’t help that she was covered in tar—but that had nothing to do with wrath, anger, or failing someone. 

               She, Percy, and Annabeth flew on the back of a dragon—Frank the dragon. Even for the daughter of Dionysus, the God of Madness, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact he could transform into different animals. She could control vines and turn people insane ( it was still a work in progress trying to figure out if she could undo madness ), and Percy could breathe underwater and control the ocean, but transforming your whole body? It just didn’t make sense to Elisa. 

               The wind whistled loudly in her ear as Frank raced for the Argo II, some tar monsters yelling after them, throwing more tar projectiles in the air. They bobbed and weaved through the air, and Elisa held one arm over her stomach, the other wrapped around Percy’s. Gods, didn’t she hate motion sickness. There was a reason Dionysus didn’t have wings sprouting from his ankles, it was because he ( and his children ) weren’t meant for air travel! ( Elisa also got car sick, and seasick, and shadow travel sick … Safe to say she just didn’t have the stomach for it. )

               Fortunately for her, the Argo II appeared, floating on the surface of the lake they left it behind. One last projectile of tar flew threw the air as they got within five hundred feet of the Greek trireme, nearly hitting Elisa in the shoulder if she didn’t look to her left slightly. Somehow, Frank started flying faster, crossing hundreds of feet within mere seconds. And within a blink of an eye, they were just about to land on the deck of the Argo II—

               They practically landed with a SPLAT, but the size of Frank had turned the SPLAT into a THUMP that rattled the whole ship. Annabeth, Percy, and Elisa slipped off Frank’s back, racing for below decks, Percy practically waddling as he cradled the bucket of tar. Elisa was first down the stairs, trying to wipe the splatters of tar off her face with the clean parts of her shirt ( which wasn’t much as she had taken a direct hit of tar in the chest; not fun nor great smelling, by the way ). She was sure she only smeared the tar, making the tar freckles look like tar streaks as she stumbled towards Jason’s cabin, where she knew he and Piper would be.

               However, she also found Abilene, Hazel, and … a brand-new Leo? He looked completely different—and in Elisa’s opinion, not for the best ( and after being best friends with Drew Tanaka for almost three years now, she prided herself on those opinions now ). His curly hair was spiked messily, and it looked like grease had been used. And to help his hair stay up beside the grease was a pair of old welding goggles, and messily-drawn “tattoos” were all across his arms, reading something like HOT STUFF, BAD BOY, and TEAM LEO.

               Elisa stopped dead in her tracks. “What the hell happened to you?”

               The son of Hephaestus shot her a nasty look. “I could ask you the same thing.”

               She glanced down at her shirt, shrugging. “Tar monsters,” she answered easily. “So … what did happen?”

               Abilene and Hazel exchanged looks. The two and Leo were stuffed in front of the doorway to Jason’s cabin, holding a large sheet of hammered bronze between them. 

               "Long story," he answered with a huff. "So … you guys are back?”

               Elisa nodded, the confirmation being the thuds of two footsteps down the stairs. She poked her head into Jason’s cabin, her eyes landing on Piper, who was sitting beside the bed, and Jason— “Oh, good. You’re awake!” She breathed a sigh of relief. “You got all your memories still?”

               Jason cracked a grin, though he still looked a little pale. “As far as I remember, you’re Elisa, and you like to call me Blondie and Sparky.”

               She nodded, mostly to herself. “Yep. He’s got memories.”

               Leo grinned slightly. “Glad you’re better, Jace. And glad you still got some memories after that brick. I’ll be in the engine room.” And he ran off with the sheet of bronze, leaving Hazel, Abilene, and Elisa in the doorway.

               Piper raised an eyebrow at the two who had been with Leo. “Team Leo?” she asked.

               Hazel and Abilene shared a glance. “We met Narcissus,” Abilene admitted, which didn’t really explain much to Elisa ( well, it did explain some; that they had a hard time with Narcissus, as everyone does ). “Also Nemesis, the Revenge Goddess.” 

               “Oo …” Elisa grimaced. “Not fun, huh?”

               Jason sighed. “I miss all the fun.” 

               Annabeth and Percy came running down the hall, bickering back and forth between them. Percy was toting the steaming five-gallon plastic bucket that smelled horrible, and Elisa had the sudden realization that she smelled like the bucket. Fortunately, Elisa wasn’t the only one to get out of the attack with tar on the body; Annabeth had a patch of the stuff in her hair and Percy’s shirt was also covered in it. 

               Piper looked between the three. “Roofing tar?” she guessed. 

               “Percy had to piss them off—as he always does,” sniffed Annabeth, turning her head angrily.

               “What?!” he shouted indignantly. “It wasn’t just me this time! Elisa said they stunk worse than any—and I quote—‘Cyclops she’s ever met.’”

               “But was I wrong?” asked Elisa, crossing her arms. “No—and get that bucket away from me!” She waved her hand at the small plume of steam pooling into the air. “It stinks!”

               Percy wafted the bucket closer to her nose. “You smell like it, you know.”

               The daughter of Dionysus sneered at him. “I’m gonna dunk your head into that bucket, Chico Pez.”

               Frank stumbled up behind the three arguing, which made the hallway pretty jam-packed with demigods. The boy had a big smear of the black sludge down his face. “Sorry, guys,” he apologized. “Took us longer than originally thought. Some tar monsters ran after us.”

               Annabeth glanced into the room, over Elisa’s head, and she brightened when she saw Jason. “Hey, Jason, glad you’re awake!” She turned to Abilene and Hazel. “You guys, where’s Leo?”

               Hazel pointed down. “Engine room.” 

               Suddenly the entire ship tilted to port, and Elisa made a noise she wasn’t proud of—a mix between a grunt and a squeal. Everyone stumbled. Percy almost spilled his bucket of tar on Elisa and Annabeth if the two hadn’t jumped out of the way. 

               “Uh … what was that?” he demanded, rightening the bucket.

               Abilene suddenly flushed bright red, the tips of her ears turning red as they poked out from her hair. “Oh, um … Yeah, long story—again.”

               Hazel looked very similar to the brunette. “We may have angered the nymphs who live in this lake.” 

               “Like ... all of them,” added Abilene.

               Percy didn’t waste a moment before shoving the bucket into Annabeth’s chest, who made a face as she hugged it close to her chest. “Great,” he muttered. “You guys help Leo. I’ll hold off the water spirits as long as I can.” 

               He squeezed the upper part of Elisa’s arm in passing as he ran back up the stairs to the deck. As he did, Frank called after with an “On it!”

               Annabeth and Frank ran off, leaving Elisa, Abilene, and Hazel at the cabin door. The ship listed again, and Hazel hugged her stomach like she was going to be sick. Elisa knew the feeling—and she wasn’t far off from the feeling, either. 

               “I’ll just…” Hazel swallowed harshly and pointed weakly down the passageway before she quickly ran off.

               Elisa clung one hand around the frame of the door, holding her stomach as the ship rocked wildly. Waves crashed against the hull as angry voices came from above deck—Percy shouting and Coach Hedge yelling at the lake. “I hate motion sickness. And I hate the ocean.”

               Abilene blinked at her. “But your boyfriend …?”

               “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Elisa waved her hand, taking a deep breath as the ship rocked again. She felt like her stomach jumped into her throat, threatening to come out and splatter across the floor. “I didn’t ask for motion sickness, you know.”

               Abilene grinned apologetically. “Yeah … Sorry.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

It took an hour—an hour after the ship stopped rocking like crazy and the engine room sounded like a bunch of Irish dancers with anvils tied to their feet were performing—for Elisa’s stomach to settle enough that she stopped hiccuping. And fortunately, the hiccups stopped right around the time a meeting in the mess hall was to take place.

               After everyone had cleaned up, Coach Hedge took the helm and the demigods gathered below for dinner. It was the first time they’d all sat down together—just the nine of them, and Elisa felt like she was at another Council Meeting in Camp Half-Blood. The feeling of familiarity didn’t comfort her. With just nine demigods—the nine demigods—it was a continuous reminder that this was all real. There were some good reminders—Percy was beside her and she wasn’t covered in tar anymore. But it was also the reminder that the Prophecy of Nine was finally unfolding. No more waiting for Leo to finish the ship. No more days at Camp Half-Blood, training and worrying whether Percy was alright. He was, and he was back by her side, but that also meant things were underway—along with a bunch of angry Romans behind them and with ancient lands ahead. The giants would be waiting. Gaea was rising. And unless they succeeded in this quest, the world would be destroyed. 

               The tension in the mess hall was severe, and it hung in the air like low-lying storm clouds. With all nine demigods in one room, it was the gut-wrenching reminder of what all nine of them were prophecied for—either to save the world or would they not? 

               There was an awkward moment when both Percy and Jason tried to sit in the same chair at the head of the table. Elisa slightly rolled her eyes when sparks literally flew from Jason’s hands. Both boys stared at each other for a few seconds—a silent standoff where Elisa wasn’t sure if she needed to become worried or exasperated they were like this. Both glanced at the chair and then at the other, but quickly lost the chair to Annabeth, who slid behind Percy and sat down without a word. Jason and Percy glanced at each other again, coming to the silent agreement that they weren’t going to argue with Annabeth; the chair was now her’s.

               Percy slid into the open chair beside Elisa, knocking his knee against hers. Underneath the table, he grabbed her hand and linked their fingers together. She squeezed his plam, glancing at him; he gave her a tight-lipped smile, and she swore that some of the tension fell from the air.

               They all started comparing stories, and all stories were equally as crazy ( a demigod staple ). Elisa, Percy, Annabeth, and Frank had gone toe-to-toe with some tar monsters masquerading as car salesman, and all the while, Leo, Abilene, and Hazel managed to trick Narcissus into leaving his reflection behind; however, neither tale was enough to cheer them up.

               Elisa found her eyes drifting to the live video of Camp Half-Blood, where she spotted the two figures of her brothers in the strawberry fields. She watched the burly figures, as the strawberry vines leaned towards them, wrapping around their ankles, legs, and arms. All of a sudden, she felt sick again. She hadn't realized just how much she missed her brothers until she remembered the distance that was now between them; they had been there over the months, there to listen as Elisa sobbed from of exhaustion and stress.

               “So where to now?” Leo asked with a mouthful of pizza. “I did a quick repair job to get us out of the lake, but there’s still a lot of damage. We should really put down again and fix things right before we head across the Atlantic.” 

               Percy was eating a piece of pie, which was completely blue—filling, crust, even the whipped cream. The ache lifted slightly from Elisa’s chest, feeling as if she was both at the camp pavilion and the Jackson apartment. “We need to put some distance between us and Camp Jupiter,” he said. “Frank spotted some eagles over Salt Lake City. We figure the Romans aren’t far behind us.” 

               That didn’t improve the mood any. In fact, the mood only soured more as they were all reminded of the Romans. She poked at her chicken wings, trying to find it within herself to eat any—she didn’t, unfortunately, frowning to herself.

               The silence was broken when Piper spoke up. “I … I don’t suppose we should go back and try … reason with the Romans? Maybe—maybe I didn’t try hard enough with the charmspeak.” 

               Jason shook his head, his expression troubled. “It wasn’t your fault, Pipes. Or Leo’s,” he added quickly, glancing at his friend. Leo’s shoulder quickly slumped as he stuffed another bite of pizza into his mouth. “Whatever happened, it was Gaea’s doing, to drive the two camps apart.” 

               Piper still looked uneasy. “Maybe if we could explain that, though—” 

               “We have no proof,” Elisa pointed out bluntly. “Not any rock-solid proof. Just our word against theirs. And really, we don’t know exactly what happened. I have some ideas on what happened, but …” she shrugged, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms, “they’re not gonna believe it.”

               Annabeth shot Elisa a look for the blunt delivery. “Unfortunately, Elisa’s right, Piper. We don’t want the Romans on our bad side, but until we understand what Gaea’s up to, going back is suicide.” 

               “She’s right,” Hazel agreed. She still looked a little queasy from seasickness, but she was trying to eat a few saltine crackers. The rim of her plate was embedded with rubies, and Elisa sure they hadn’t been there at the beginning of the meal. “Reyna might listen, but Octavian won’t. The Romans have honor to think about. They’ve been attacked. They’ll shoot first and ask questions posthac.” 

               Piper stared down at her plate, where a couple of avocado and grilled pepper quesadillas layed, but she hadn’t even taken a bit. She pushed the plate away slightly, resting her elbows on the table. “I get it. You guys are right,” she decided, though her voice was heavy. “We have to keep going. Not just because of the Romans. We have to hurry.” 

               Abilene stared at her salad, a half-eaten sub sandwich beside it on another plate. Her eyes were hard to read, but she looked … guilt-ridden. “Nemesis said we only had six days,” she started. “Six days until, um …” She glanced at Elisa, her expression almost worried, as if Elisa was going to snap at her or something. “Six days until Nico,” she glanced at Elisa again, who was starting to get annoyed, “... dies and Rome is destroyed.”

               Elisa shifted in her seat, poking at the vegetables on her plate now. Percy squeezed her hand again, and the back of her throat started to burn. She had months to check up on Nico, and she had wasted them. Now, she only had six days and what felt like zero leads.

               Jason frowned, leaning closer to Abilene. “You mean Rome Rome, not New Rome?” 

               The brunette nodded. “I think so. I’m—pretty sure. Either way, that’s no time at all.”

               “Why six days?” Percy wondered aloud. “And how are they going to destroy Rome?”

               No one had an answer for the son of Poseidon. Elisa scowled at the rest of her food, dropping her fork and leaning back in her chair.

               Piper shifted in her seat as silence settled among the nine. She tucked some hair behind her ear, looking like something was on the tip of her tongue. But after a short breath, she said, “There’s more. I’ve been … seeing some things. In my knife.” 

               Both Frank and Percy blinked at her. “Seeing things?” asked Frank, a forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth.

               “With a knife?” added Percy, holding the can of blue whipped cream.

               “Helen of Troy’s knife,” Annabeth added quickly.

               “Like that means anything to me …” murmured Percy, adding some more whipped cream to his pie.

               Frank still hadn’t eaten his bite of spaghetti, some of the noodles sliding off and back onto his plate. “Well … things such as …?” he prompted.

               “They don’t really make sense,” Piper admitted with a flush of embarrassment. She hadn’t expected people to voice confusion about the knife thing, apparently. “Just … garbled images, but I saw two giants, dressed alike. Maybe twins.” 

               Somehow, Elisa’s appetite became worse. Her stomach dropped and she nearly let her head thump against the table with exhaustion. She knew of some twins in Greek mythology, and very few wore matchy-matchy clothes. Annabeth’s grey eyes darkened, and they drifted over and fixed on the magical feed of Camp Half-Blood. And Elisa wished she hadn’t looked with her—right now it showed the living room in the Big House, and she could almost feel the cozy fire from the hearth and the small sounds as Chiron and her dad played a round of pinochle ( or Go Fish, though Dionysus would never admit to playing it ), she could even hear the sound of Seymour, the stuffed leopard head, as he snored contentedly above the mantel.

               “Twins …” the daughter of Athena murmured. “Like in Ella’s prophecy. If we could figure out those lines, it might help.” 

               “Wisdom’s daughter walks alone,” Percy recalled the lines. His leg started to bounce anxiously. “The Mark of Athena burns through Rome.” He glanced at Annabeth. “That’s got to mean you. Juno—Hera, whatever—told me … Well, she said you had a hard task ahead of you in Rome. She said she doubted you could do it—but I know she’s wrong.” 

               Elisa looked at Annabeth. The two had only known each other since they were fourteen, but after everything, they were like best friends. There wasn’t much they kept from each other, not anymore at least. After studying, navigating, and surviving the labyrinth. Elisa being there when Annabeth was struggling with Luke’s final offer to run away. Annabeth being there for Elisa after Percy went missing. The two shared practically everything, and that included something as scary as Athena giving Annabeth a coin. Elisa didn’t know what the coin meant, and Annabeth never really explained ( or if she really knew ), but Elisa could tell that it was important to Annabeth.

               Silently, Annabeth locked eyes with her, and the message was sent: Don’t say anything. Not yet. Elisa took the message to heart, letting out a deep breath through her nose. Annabeth set her brow, suddenly determined. “Reyna was about to tell me something right before the ship fired on us. She said there was an old legend among the Roman praetors—something that had to do with Athena. She said it might be the reason Greeks and Romans could never get along.” 

               Abilene, Leo, and Hazel exchanged nervous looks. “Nemesis mentioned something similar,” the son of Hephaestus admitted. “She talked about an old score that had to be settled—” 

               “The one thing that might bring the gods’ two natures into harmony,” Hazel recalled. “ It was something like … ‘An old—”

               “‘An old wrong finally avenged,’” Abilene rattled off the lines. 

               Elisa watched as Percy drew a frowny face in his blue whipped cream. “I was only a praetor for about two hours.” He glanced up at the son of Jupiter. “Jason, you ever hear a legend like that?” 

               The blond was watching Percy draw the sad face with bewilderment. “I … Is that a frowny face? I—I mean, uh, I’m not sure,” he finally got out. “I’ll give it some thought.” 

               Percy narrowed his eyes. He could tell the son of Jupiter wasn’t being entirely truthful. “You’re not sure?” 

               Elisa frowned, looking between her boyfriend and Jason. She knew Jason wasn’t telling the truth ( a vein tended to pop on in his neck when he lied ), but she also knew he would lie for good reasons. Though, she wasn’t sure if there was ever a good reason to lie in situations like this. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, knowing there was something about this old legend he didn’t want to talk about. Jason locked eyes with her, and he silently pleaded, Later.

               Hazel broke the silence. “What about the other lines?” She turned her ruby-encrusted plate. “Twins snuff out the angel’s breath/Who holds the key to endless death.”

               “Giants’ bane stands gold and pale,” Frank added. “Won through pain from a woven jail.” 

               “Giants’ bane,” Leo muttered, picking a slice of pepperoni off his pizza. He tossed it into his mouth, quickly eating it. “Anything that’s a giants’ bane is good for us, right? That’s probably what we need to find. If it can help the gods get their act together, that’s good.” 

               Percy gave Jason one last suspicious look before moving on. “We can’t kill the giants without the help of the gods,” he agreed with a sour tone. “Which is totally unfair …”

               Jason turned to Abilene, Frank, and Hazel. His eyes were like storm clouds. “I thought you guys killed that one giant in Alaska without a god’s help, with no help from any god.” 

               “Alcyoneus was a special case,” Frank explained. “He was only immortal in the territory where he was reborn—Alaska. But not in Canada. I wish I could kill all the giants by dragging them across the border from Alaska into Canada, but …” He shrugged, twirling spaghetti noodles around his silver fork. “Percy’s right, we’ll need the gods.” 

               Elisa gazed at the walls. She was really wishing Leo hadn’t added the enchantment to show Camp Half-Blood now. It was like a doorway to home that she may never have the chance to go back to. She thought about being inside Cabin Twelve again, laying on her bed as Castor, Pollux, and Drew were all around, talking and laughing amongst themselves.

               “So …” Leo pushed his chair away from the table. “First things first, I guess. We’ll have to put down in the morning to finish repairs.” 

               “Someplace close to a city,” Annabeth suggested, “in case we need supplies. But somewhere out of the way, so the Romans will have trouble finding us. Any ideas?” 

               No one spoke for a moment. But Piper quickly pursed her lips, resting her hand where she always kept Katoptris. “Well …” she ventured, “how do you guys feel about Kansas?”

               Elisa’s brows furrowed. “What the hell’s in Kansas?”

               Piper grinned sheepishly. “I’m … not quite sure,” she admitted. “It’s what my knife showed me. Something about a Topkea 32.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

The meeting wrapped up on that note, and all nine demigods stood up and started to shuffle out of the room. Before Elisa could step away from the table, Percy grabbed her by the arm and kept her rooted in place. The rest of them stepped into the hallway, with Piper poking Leo in the back to make him hurry up as she noticed Percy wanted a moment alone.

               Elisa had thought about this moment for months—to have Percy back and to be alone. But now that it was here, she wanted to bolt. After six months of him being missing ( and after snapping at him back at Camp Jupiter ), there was a lot that needed to be said, only she didn’t have the words. She didn’t even know if she had her mind wrapped around it all—what his absence had done to her, especially. She wasn’t even sure if Percy had any idea that those six months had changed her; she didn’t know how much those six months had changed him, either. 

               Percy still had ahold of her arm. And he stared at her face like he was trying to analyze every feature. The idea embarrassed her and she blurted, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. About Nico. And you ‘keeping’ that from me. There was no—possible way you could’ve told me before then. I was just overwhelmed—”

               “S’okay.” He shrugged. “I knew … Well, I know Nico means a lot to you. For a time, I couldn’t really remember why; I just knew. I wanted to tell you about Nico—about everything—when we had time alone. That just never really panned out …”

               “Mostly ‘cause I stormed off,” she insisted.

               Percy grinned slightly. “It’s upsetting news. Nico’s like a brother. I would be … gutted to hear Tyson went looking for the Doors of Death and got taken.”

               Elisa nodded slightly, looking back down at the table. This pained her—the conversation with Percy. And it was such a strange feeling. For six months, she poured everything she had into trying to find him. She did everything she could to not forget a single detail about him—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled. The little things about a person you don’t notice until they’re not there. And if the moment ever came that she found him, she was terrified he would have no memory of her; not even the little things about her, just absolutely no memory of her. But she learned that he did have memories of her, but that fear never lifted. Now, she was terrified she would have no idea how to act around him—whether they would go back to square one or if things would pick up where they left off. Or, even worse, if they were in some middle ground.

               Percy sighed, but admitted, “I was also worried you would be angry that Nico had found Camp Jupiter, knew where I was, and never told you.”

               “I—” She crossed her arms, forcing Percy to let go of her. “I … didn’t even think about it that way.”

               She didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Whether that meant Percy knew her like she was the back of his hand, or if it meant that she had lost herself all over again over these six months. But it also reminded her just how much Percy meant to her. From the moment they met, he had always been there, thinking of how she’d feel.

               She looked at him, trying to smile. “We’ll figure it out. Nico’s tough. He survived the labyrinth just by himself and that gods-awful ghost Minos. He learned how to fight from the dead.” She nodded slowly to herself. “He’ll figure it out, just as we are.”

               “Just … be careful, Elisa,” Percy said.

               “That’s ironic for you to say.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

               “Hey, I’m trying to be a good boyfriend here!” he countered. “I’m six months out of practice!”

               Despite the reminder, Elisa grinned. When they were fourteen, she probably would’ve scowled at him and told him to Go choke, but she grinned and grabbed his shirt to pull him in for a kiss.

               Fourteen-year-old Elisa would’ve spontaneously combust without the help of a god at the sheer grossness of the idea of kissing Percy. Seventeen-year-old Elisa grinned into the kiss, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt. And when they pulled away, the two practically glued their sides together as they walked out of the mess hall. She took a deep breath, smelling the air of the ocean, and felt as close as home could be.

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter eight

━━ ABILENE DIDN’T KNOW how she was going to fall asleep—or if she would be able ever to fall asleep again. The fear of sleep had started before she had ever noticed it. She was scared of what Gaea would say this time; scared of what Gaea would show her this time. She was scared of sleep, but she was also scared of being around the others. She hadn’t noticed that fear until she finally had a moment alone. She was even more confused about when that fear started. Was it when she finally admitted she was Gaea's daughter as she flew to Alaska? Was it when Gaea showed her a vision of her old home in Montana as she almost drowned in muskeg? Was it when Juno visited her when she was asleep, telling her that despite her trepidation, she was doing the right thing—fighting for the gods?

               She felt the fear had been there—the moment Jason Grace disappeared back in October. The fear was different then, she had different things to fear—what it meant that Jason Grace, newly-appointed praetor, was now missing; what it would mean for Reyna, who now had to burden the shoulder of a two-person job; what it meant for the safety of everyone that the son of Jupiter could go missing; fear of what was happening to Jason now that he was all on his own. Then the fear got worse when Percy Jackson, the son of Neptune, arrived, cradling the goddess Juno in his arms. Then the fear got worse when she learned that Thanatos had been captured, then worse when Frank was issued a quest, and then even worse after she agreed to go on the quest with Frank.

               And that’s not even talking about the fear she felt when she started questioning everything she had known regarding who she thought was her mother. That fear was indescribable. She almost stopped feeling human; she felt more like a bad omen. The Romans considered Neptune ( and any child of his ) bad omens, but to be Gaea’s daughter, Abilene was the bad omen. She was the demigod face of Gaea for the Romans; she was the walking, breathing, living reminder that the Earth Mother was back and that she wanted humanity under her earthly thumbs again.

               Abilene hadn’t realized how much she shouldered that burden until she was alone. It wasn’t like the others were burdening it with her. She didn’t want them too, even if there was a slim chance they could—but they couldn’t. Because she wouldn’t let them, but also because they wouldn’t understand. You can’t wrap your mind around something you’ve never experienced. You can try, but you’ll never really understand—and Abilene felt that was for the best. Her existence started to humanize Gaea, even though Abilene knew Gaea didn’t care for her. Abilene was a pawn to Gaea; a chess piece she could bring to and forth across the board, making it do what she wanted. 

               Despite knowing that very well, Abilene still felt a connection to Gaea. A connection she didn’t want. It was something every demigod struggled with, this connection to your godly parent that you felt didn’t treat you as a child. Despite the lack of parent-child interactions, you were put into this little box that your godly parent was in as well: Jupiter? You’re a leader. Mars? You’re a warrior. Mercury? You’re a natural thief. 

               But Gaea?

               It had never been seen before. And the new was always feared—and this one was feared for all the right reasons.

               The rug kept being pulled out from underneath her feet, for one reason or another. Abilene didn’t know what other thing would become new. Would she learn that she wasn’t even human? She wasn’t even technically a demigod? Would she learn that Gaea knew Abilene wouldn’t betray the gods, and so, has this whole other plan up her sleeve? If that was true, what was that other plan? And how did it ( because it certainly would ) involve Abilene? ( She would never say it aloud, and hardly would admit it inside her own skull, but she had an idea of what that other plan could be … )

               Maybe that’s why Abilene was afraid to fall asleep. She was scared of what she would see in her dreams this time; scared of what Gaea would try and tell her this time. She felt guilty that even some part of her wanted to believe Gaea.

               Who doesn’t want to believe their mother? Even if their mother wanted to bring the destruction of humanity. But Abilene couldn’t help but feel guilty.

               She also found herself relishing in the sheer solitude of the night, and the solitude of her room specifically. She hadn’t realized how much she needed space until she had it. Being around eight other demigods ( who were all constant reminders of what was coming, and half of them being complete strangers ) made Abilene more on edge than anything. The Greeks all seemed nice enough; odd, sure, but she was sure they looked at her, Hazel, and Frank the same way ( especially Abilene ). She was also glad to be away from them, no longer having to worry if they were afraid of her as she sat right by them. She could worry about that in the silence of her personal cabin on the Argo II. 

               The cabin was pretty bare bones; a twin bed stuffed in one corner with white sheets and quilt, a wooden desk with a rolly chair tucked underneath it, and a dresser with a clothes hook placed on the wall beside it. If anything, it felt more like a college dorm room than a cabin in a gigantic, flying ship. Somehow, the idea of getting to college after this was more a foreign concept than the flying Greek warship. However, Abilene figured Leo kept the room bare, not knowing anything about Abilene or how she would like her room. 

               Unfortunately for her, the emptiness of the room gave her thoughts room to balloon—and that was the last thing her thoughts needed. It was a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse.

               Coach Hedge ( he was probably the oddest one of them all, in Abilene’s opinion ) also became a curse after curfew. He spent the first hour after curfew doing this … weird routine. He would walk up and down the passageway for the ten cabins ( his included ), all the while, yelling, “Lights out! Settle down! Try to sneak out, and I’ll smack you back to Long Island!” ( Abilene was pretty sure Long Island was somewhere in New York. Probably a long strip of land if she had to go off the name. ) He would bang this baseball bat against a cabin door whenever he heard a noise from inside, shouting at everyone again. He certainly was instrumental in Abilene’s insomnia tonight ( and if this was Camp Half-Blood’s version of fauns, she didn’t ever want to go visit, no matter how nice Percy made the Camp sound ). 

               The twin bed was surprisingly comfy, and it was a wonderful place to lay and overthink. Abilene kept constantly mulling over what Juno and Nemesis had told her. One had told her that everything she was doing ( going against her mom ) was the right choice; the other warned her by taking the form of her deceased grandmother ( who she didn’t know was deceased until this very month ). Juno’s visit was probably meant to secure Abilene in her decision, but it only made her more confused. The goddess had declared that Abilene disliked fate ( which … isn’t wrong, now that she’s thought about it ), but she also reminded Abilene of the importance of loyalties. Like Abilene wouldn’t already know that …

               “And do you think my family agrees with everything I’ve done for them? For family, you make great sacrifices.” That’s what Juno said before Abilene abruptly woke up. It was supposed to be comforting, but it only made Abilene’s skin crawl. It sounded like something Gaea would tell her, trying to convince Abilene to abandon and betray everything she’s ever known and fight for the giants. 

               The rug, once again, was pulled out from underneath Abilene’s feet. Nemesis had rattled her far more than she had previously thought. Nemesis looking like Barbara Briar ( or what Abilene thought her grandmother looked like ) had rattled her more than even the muskeg vision of Barbara and Montana. Nemesis had even said herself, that Abilene held a lot of bitterness against Barbara, a woman she had never even met ( and who she was supposed to love ). How do you resent someone you have never even met? 

               You can’t. Not really. You resent what you think is them. Abilene resents what Gaea has made Barbara out to be. That didn’t stop the bitterness from boiling, though. She wasn’t sure if it ever would.

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

The breakfast bell ( at least, that’s what Abilene thinks it is … ) was not the way to wake up. She wasn’t even sure when she had fallen asleep. One minute, she was staring at the bronze beams above her head, and the next minute, she had a breakfast bell vibrating the walls of her room.

               There was a knock, and Frank’s voice rippled through the wood, “Hey, Abi. It’s Frank. We’re about to land. Right outside of Topeka.”

               She stared at the bronze beams above her head for a moment, then rubbed at her dry eyes. She sat up, ignoring the jab in the back of her neck, right at the spot where her head and neck connected. As she stood up, this shockingly cold wave washed over her. It was like someone was standing right over her shoulder, breathing down her neck; except their breathing was as cold as ice, not warm or even humid. She thought she even heard some faint laughter, too.

               The coldness reminded her of something Leo had said. Something he said while trying to defend himself after firing on Camp Jupiter and New Rome.

               Abilene shook the connection away, swinging open the door to her cabin. Frank stood there, smiling at her slightly. “Hey,” he greeted airily. “I was getting worried when you didn’t say anything.”

               “What? Oh, no.” She shook her head again, leaning against the door, tapping her finger on it. ( From above, Coach Hedge’s voice ripped; “Thar she blows! Kansas, ahoy!” However, both pretended they didn’t hear the satyr. ) “Just … tired.”

               He stared at her for a second, then his eyebrows pinched together. “You okay?”

               She thought for a moment, wondering just how honest to be. There was no way she could lie and answer Yes; Frank would know she was lying, even if he wouldn’t call her out on it. “Honestly … no. But …”

               “You don’t want to talk about it,” he assumed correctly. 

               She nodded, pursing her lips. Where they stood wasn’t exactly stated out loud, but it was obvious. You don’t survive a quest without growing close to the people who survived it with you; you don’t kiss someone you don’t want to be with. Only Abilene still wondered what Frank thought about her connection to Gaea. He told her that he didn’t care, but it does matter, no matter how much he tries to say it doesn’t. 

               “No, I don’t,” she agreed. “Maybe … soon. I don’t know. I need to wrap my mind around it. That’s all.”

               She swore she heard the cold laughter again. It was like a slight breeze carrying down the hall that led out from her room. Frank seemed to not hear anything, frowning deeper as Abilene looked down the hall, left and then right. 

               “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

               “Fine.” Abilene moved, starting to shut the door. “I’ll get changed and get breakfast, alright?”

               By the time Abilene had changed and grabbed a cherry muffin from the mess hall, she could hear the ship’s landing gear extending. She climbed on deck and joined the other people who stood on the deck of the Argo II. The Greek warship was settling itself in the middle of a field of sunflowers; it was like an ocean of yellow was surrounding them. The oars retracted. The gangplank lowered itself. 

               The morning air smelled of irrigation, warm plants, and fertilized earth. A comforting smell, solely for the reminder of Helena, Montana and George Briar. Despite being two states apart, the smell of farming was still the same. It made Abilene’s heart pang with longing. She and her father had not been close in years, but that doesn’t mean she never looked back on those old memories with the wish to go back to that time.

               Abilene tried to eat the muffin, despite feeling as if a rock was lodged in her throat. All the others had gathered on the deck, mulling around as the sunflowers grew closer and closer. Leo was messing with this Wii controller, examining some part of the Argo II as he whirled the Wii control around. His curly hair stuck out all over the place, and his jeans were dirty as his T-shirt was extremely wrinkly. Piper and Jason stood off to the side, watching Leo apprehensively. Piper wore an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt with jean shorts and white tennis shoes; somehow, the outfit was fashionable despite the laid-backness of it. Her hair fanned around her face as she made a face at something Leo said. Jason grinned slightly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants. 

               As Abilene stepped closer, Percy was the first to notice her. He was in a good mood, and he grinned brightly at her. He wore faded jeans and a fresh orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, as if he’d never been away from the Greek side. The new clothes had probably helped his mood—and of course, Elisa did the most help ( at least, Abilene could confidently assume ). Abilene didn’t know the two before Percy was taken to Camp Jupiter, but to her, it looked like no time had passed at all. Elisa stood against the rails, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked out to the sunflower field. He said something to her, jabbing her with a finger right below her ribs after she looked at him from the corner of her eye. 

               “Absolutely not.” She sniffed, turning her head back out to the flowers. Truthfully, Abilene still wasn’t quite sure of what to make Elisa. She trusted the girl, knowing that someone who meant this much to Percy had to be a decent person, but that was all Abilene knew—besides Elisa apparently also being a daughter of Dionysus, the Greek God of Wine. Her hair was black and wildly curly, ending a little below her shoulder. She also had on an orange T-shirt, the sleeves rolled up and tucked away. Her jean shorts looked worn, and Abilene spotted what looked like a golden thyrsus tucked in Elisa’s back pocket. 

               Percy slung an arm over her shoulder, tugging her closer. “I think you’d look good!”

               “You have to say that,” she replied bluntly, rolling her shockingly-purple eyes. “What kind of boyfriend would you be if you told me to dye my hair yellow because it would look bad—which it would.”

               The son of Poseidon shrugged, keeping the arm around her shoulders. Abilene hadn’t seen him look ever more comfortable and natural. He looked at Abilene, saying, “Hey, Abi!”

               The attention turned toward Abilene for a brief, uncomfortable moment. Fortunately, Annabeth stepped forward, taking a bagel right out of Piper’s hands. She took a bite, quickly swallowing before she started with; “So! Here we are. What’s the plan?” 

               “I want to check out the highway,” Piper spoke up, snatching back the bagel from Annabeth. “Find the sign that says Topeka 32.”

               Leo spun his Wii controller in a circle—turning his hand over and over so the sails lowered themselves. “We shouldn’t be far,” he said. “Festus and I calculated the landing as best we could. What do you expect to find at the mile marker?”

               Piper explained what she’d seen in the knife she kept on her waist—the man in purple with a silver goblet that beckoned her closer. Abilene didn’t quite understand how a knife could show visions, but she also felt that Piper wasn’t exactly being honest. She kept glancing down at the knife, her eyebrows pinched with what had to be with worry.

               “Purple shirt?” Jason asked. “Vines on his hat? Sounds like Bacchus.” 

               Elisa glanced briefly at Jason. “Dionysus,” she corrected plainly.

               Percy grimaced a little, gritting his teeth. “If we came all the way to Kansas to see Mr. D—” 

               “Bacchus isn’t so bad,” Jason broke in as Elisa’s head jerked to face Percy ( she frowned at him as he sent her a small shrug ). “I don’t like his followers much, though …”

               Leo scoffed incredulously, poking at some machinery Abilene didn’t know anything about. “Tell me about it …” he murmured in agreement. 

               Even Piper grimaced to herself. “Yeah, I don’t think they like us too much either,” she agreed, confusing Abilene even more.

               “What?” the brunette asked, looking between Leo, Jason, and Piper. “What about Bacchus’s followers?”

               “Nothing,” Elisa offered quickly, raising a hand slightly as if to end the topic of Bacchus’s followers. “Besides, they aren’t typically around Dionysus anyway. He doesn’t like them. Thinks they’re obsessive.” Leo snorted again, and Elisa shot him a quick look Abilene couldn’t exactly read; part of the look seemed humorous, but another part of it read Shut up, Leo! “But a purple shirt could also mean someone from Camp Jupiter. And goblets—or chalices, whatever—also could mean a bunch of other gods, not just Dionysus—Bacchus, whatever …”

               Abilene wasn’t sure if it was Elisa’s connection to Dionysus and his whole God of Madness business, but the daughter of Dionysus was hard to read. After training with Lupa, Abilene had picked up the skill of reading people. It was important in the name of survival, having to read others to see if they would pounce or if they would lay down. Elisa’s expression was solid, but still unconcerned—she was still a teenager, but there was also this element that felt … unruly. Abilene wasn’t sure how much of it was a front, or if this was just what the Greek children of Dionysus were like ( Dakota was, well … not a lot like Elisa ).

               “It could be another god,” admitted Jason, “but, Elisa, you don’t believe it’s not Bacchus? Not with you being on this ship.”

               Elisa’s brows pinched. “Piper,” she started, turning to look at the girl. “You couldn’t see his face?”

               The daughter of Aphrodite shook her head. “No. His face was covered in shadows—but he did have on this, like … wreath made out of …” She gave Elisa a Told-you-so kind of look, “well, vines.”

               Elisa didn’t look happy about the news, grimacing as she glanced out to the sunflower field below them. “Okay, so, probably Dionysus. But what’s he doing in—Kansas?”

               “Getting away from those crazy Maenads, I bet,” Leo answered without a beat.

               She eyed the boy for a minute. “Funny,” she drawled. “Really funny, Elf Ears.”

               Jason placed his hands on his hips, his shoulders straightening. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it must be important if Piper saw it in Katoptris. Bacchus isn’t so bad. I did him a favor once up in Wine Country.” 

               ( Leo glanced up with raised eyebrows, looking at Elisa. Wine country? he mouthed to her.

               “California,” she answered, as if the information was easy to come by. “North of San Fran.” )

               “But …” Jason continued as if Elisa and Leo hadn’t had an off-tangent exchange, “it is his followers we need to worry about—Maenads.”

               ( It couldn’t have been Abilene’s imagination, as, in some three-way harmony, Piper, Leo, and Jason all glanced toward Elisa at the mention of Maenads. ) Percy noticed too, as his eyebrows pinched for a brief moment, but he didn’t bring it up. Instead, he muttered; “Whatever, man …” He almost sounded appalled at the idea of helping Bacchus. “Maybe he’s better on the Roman side—”

               “Watch it, Fish Breath, this is my dad we’re talking about here …” the black-haired girl grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest.

               Percy shrugged. “You’re thinking the same thing. But … why would he be hanging around in Kansas? Didn’t Zeus order the gods to cease all contact with mortals?”

               Elisa’s grumble turned into an audible grimace. “Dionysus has never followed orders—not willingly, at least …”

               Frank grunted with an agreement. He was wearing a purple Camp Jupiter with a pair of blue jeans, he had also tugged a grey jacket over the purple T-shirt. “None of the gods haven’t been very good at following that order,” he added. “Besides, if the gods are having trouble staying one version of themselves like Abi and Hazel said—” 

               “—And Leo said,” added the son of Hephaestus. 

               Frank scowled at him. ( Abilene elbowed him slightly in the ribs. ) “Then who knows what’s going on with the Olympians? Could be some pretty bad stuff out there.” 

               Leo shrugged, seemingly not paying much attention. “Sounds dangerous! Well …” He waved the others off. “You guys have fun. I’ve got to finish repairs on the hull. Coach Hedge is gonna work on the broken crossbows. And, uh, Annabeth—I could really use your help. You’re the only other person who even sort of understands engineering.” 

               Annabeth uncrossed her arms, taking a step towards Leo. “He’s right,” she agreed. “I should stay and help.” 

               Frank slid his bow off his shoulder and propped it against the rail. “I think I should turn into a crow or something and fly around, keep an eye out for Roman eagles.” 

               “Why a crow?” Leo blurted. Abilene was learning how little of a filter this kid had—or if he had one at all. “Man, if you can turn into a dragon, why don’t you just turn into a dragon every time? That’s the coolest.” 

               Frank’s cheeks puffed out as he huffed. “That’s like asking why you don’t bench-press your maximum weight every time you lift,” he snapped back. “Because it’s hard, and you’d hurt yourself. Turning into a dragon isn’t easy.” 

               “Oh.” Leo shrugged, turning back to some machine parts. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t lift weights.”

               “Yeah. Well, maybe you should consider it, Mr.—” 

               Hazel stepped forward, her fingers spread out before her. “I’ll help you, Frank,” she offered, shooting Abilene a What is going on? type of look. “I can summon Arion and scout around below.” 

               Frank glared at Leo for a moment longer. Then, he muttered, “... Sure. Yeah, thanks, Hazel.”

               Abilene’s ears burned, the burning worsening when Piper also glanced at her oddly. She didn’t know what to tell them—Hazel and Piper, who both looked at her oddly for the exchange between Frank and Leo. What was there to say? Frank had some unknown vendetta against Leo, but Abilene had no idea what it was about!

               That was the truth; it only made Abilene a lot more miserable the more she thought about it. Whether Frank knew or not, he had a reason for the vendetta—Leo can wield fire, and Frank’s life can be so quickly snuffed out by fire ( … more quickly than the average person’s life, really ). And then she felt the guilt rolling in—she hadn’t thought about the fire thing until she had seen Frank and Leo sharing space on the deck that very morning. 

               But how could she tell Frank? She didn’t know a way to tell Frank that wouldn’t make the situation worse—she tells Frank and he gets upset with her for keeping the information, then he becomes upset that a guy who can wield fire ( the thing Frank probably has to worry about the most ) is on the very ship as him, and then Leo …

               Abilene didn’t have to worry about Leo, but she could tell the way he delivered the information at the Great Salt Lake meant that even he wasn’t comfortable with the powers. Surely, divulging Leo’s secrets would make an already rocky relationship even rockier ( and Abilene knew that if people she had to tell about her mother spilled the secrets to even more people, she wouldn’t like it ).

               Hazel pursed her lips, turning her attention to Percy. “Just be careful when you go out there. Lots of fields, lots of crops. Could be karpoi on the loose.” 

               “Karpoi?” Piper asked, her eyebrows pinching in confusion. 

               Abilene shuddered, the memory of being kidnapped flashing across her mind. “Grain spirits,” she answered. “You don’t want to meet them. They’re not nice …”

               “That leaves five of us to check on the mile marker,” Percy said, glancing between the five demigods who hadn’t been assigned to a task for the time being. “That’s not too many to go meet Mr. D, right? Sure, not psyched about me going—he’s a real pain—”

               “Watch it.” Elisa scowled, elbowing Percy in the side. 

               He grinned slightly, as if pleased to get under his girlfriend’s skin. “But if Jason’s on better terms with him, and Elisa goes—”

               “Yeah,” the son of Jupiter agreed. “If we find him, I’ll talk to him. Piper, it’s your vision. You should take the lead. Elisa—”

               “Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted, crossing her arms and looking aside. She didn’t look pleased about the prospect of seeing her father again ( and from what Abilene knew of Bacchus, she didn’t blame Elisa; perhaps Dionysus was different, though … ) “Hopefully, he’s feeling fatherly today.” 

               “Abilene.” Jason looked at her, and she had the weird sense of déjà vu. It was the first time he had said her name since October, and somehow, it made him more real—he was no longer the faint whispers of campers, trying to all secretly discuss where the son of Jupiter had disappeared to. Of course, he was real—he was standing in front of her, on the Argo II—but the two had been friends, when they were both in the Fifth Cohort, with Jason trying to better the reputation of the Cohort. 

               She didn’t realize how jarring it was to have Jason back, and how different he was—but not different at all.

               “I think you should go,” he explained. “With the earth and all, I think you’d be beneficial to go on—”

               “Right. I mean, no, yeah, I get what you’re saying.” Abilene waved a hand in her face, one arm crossed over her stomach. She understood what Jason was saying, only unsure if he was right or not—would she help, or would she only draw more attention to the other four walking across the Earth? “Uh …” She glanced at Frank, who eyed her ( but she couldn’t exactly read what the look meant ). “Yeah. I mean, yeah, I’ll go.”

               “Awesome,” decided Percy anyone else could get another opinion in. Abilene noticed the way he squeezed Elisa’s shoulder, and she figured Percy was glad that they’d be going on another mission together instead of getting separated. “Me, Elisa, Abilene, Jason, and Piper—the Fantastic Five.”

               Elisa grimaced. “Don’t ever say that again.”

               He gave her an offended look. “What?”

               Piper had a shaky smile, but it dropped as she glanced down at her knife. “All right, Fantastic Five. Let’s find the highway.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

“Leo needs a math class …” 

               “Well—aren’t you just a ray of sunshine, Lisa.”

               The daughter of Dionysus scowled, smacking a sunflower stem out of her path. “We’ve been walking half a mile,” she snapped, “and I don’t see anything close to a Topeka 32.”

               Elisa wasn’t wrong, just in a sorely bad mood. And Leo’s idea of “close by” wasn’t close at all—half a mile already, entirely of trudging through hot fields of tall grass, scratchy sunflowers hits to the face, and hovering mosquitoes. ( Abilene was certain she had several new bruises trying to smack all the bugs off of her. ) At some point, Percy made a joke about the flowers being taller than Elisa ( who quickly punched him in the shoulder, angrily pointing out the flowers were also taller than him, but admittedly, not by much ). 

               Abilene frowned to herself, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. The earth felt the same—this vibration beneath the earth, as if all it made up was clawing at a chance to be used by Abilene. It felt like a punch to the gut. Controlling the ground had become far harder—hell, controlling plants ( something that came very easy to her ) was far more laborious. She knew it had to do with Gaea. It always tied back to Gaea. And the struggle to control her powers came after Abilene denied Gaea; denied joining the giants and betraying her friends. 

               It made Abilene far more angry than she knew how. How was she supposed to help if she could no longer control the one thing she used to be able to control?

               She also knew the others were watching her, waiting for any sign that they needed to high tail it out of there. But the thing is … Abilene just felt oddly cool. Especially within her fingers, like all blood flow had suddenly stopped to those appendages. 

               “I think …” she started, and the others stopped as if that would better their listening, “there’s a road that way.”

               She didn’t know exactly how to explain it, but it was just a feeling. The way the earth … felt was just different—instead of unraveling with the sunflower roots, this one felt more compact. It felt man-made. And hot. And dry. She hoped that meant some paved road instead of more sunflower fields. 

               “You see anything?” asked Jason.

               “No, a feeling.” When Jason glanced at her again, Abilene flushed. “It’s just a—a feeling, okay? I dunno how to explain it. It just feels different—the ground, I mean.”

               “What?” Percy cracked a grin, and part of that made Abilene a little afraid. You never exactly knew what was going to come out of his mouth. “You have echolocation with your feet?”

               Abilene flushed. “It’s not echolocation!”

               “That’s what it sounds like to me,” insisted Percy, spreading his hands innocently. 

               Elisa met Abilene’s eyes, with a pretty unreadable look. She lifted the hair off the back of her neck, using a hair tie around her wrist to pull it up into a ponytail. The bangs around her face fell and curled, making her eyes look more prominent purple as the sunlight beamed down on them. “You sure about the road thing?”

               Abilene shrugged. “Pretty sure, at least …”

               Her “pretty sure” turned out to be correct—they made it to a road that cut through the middle of the sunflower fields. She glanced back and forth, the sealed tar stretched off into the far distance in each direction. And a sign above them—an old billboard for Bubba’s Gas ’n’ Grub that said they were forty miles from the first Topeka exit.

               Percy frowned up at the sign. “Correct my math,” he muttered, “but doesn’t that mean we have eight miles to walk?”

               “Leo—math class.” Elisa placed her hands on her hips. “I’m telling you.”

               “Well, when we get back you can hound Annabeth about it,” replied Percy, brushing the ends of his hair out of his eyes.

               Jason took a deep breath as he glanced up and down the deserted road. Considering the hit to the head with a brick, he looked remarkably well—his skin color was back to normal and the scar across his forehead was almost completely healed. His gladius hung on his belt. He seemed relieved despite it all, like he was glad to not be in bed and out doing something. “No cars …” he murmured. “But I guess we wouldn’t want to hitchhike.” 

               “No,” Piper agreed quickly. The soles of her shoes unrooted dirt as she spun around, looking at everything nearby. “We’ve already spent too much time going overland. The earth is Gaea’s territory.” 

               The sheer mention of Gaea made Abilene queasy. She knew what Jason was getting at when he offered that she go with the others to find and speak with Bacchus, however, that doesn’t mean she liked what it meant—her connection with Gaea. The connection she was unable to sever no matter what she did.

               It didn’t help that Piper, and then Elisa, both glanced at her one after the other. They hadn’t said much regarding Abilene’s birth—but Leo did all of the talking for them back at Camp Jupiter, really—and she didn’t want to know what they thought. She knew what they were thinking …

               Jason noticed the glances, too. He pursed his lips, but declared, “I can call a friend for a ride.”

               Immediately, Percy stood taller, his shoulders squaring. Elisa eyed her boyfriend, rolling her eyes and scoffing when he challenged; “Oh, yeah? Me too. Let’s see whose friend gets here first.” 

               Elisa shook her head, her expression turning exasperated as Jason whistled loudly; Piper looked a little amused, glancing up at the clear, blue sky. As Jason whistled, Percy simply closed his eyes and seemingly concentrated. 

               Admittedly, Abilene was curious what Jason was calling, and how it would even hear a whistle even though there was nothing she could see in close vicinity. When thunder cracked in the clear sky above them, and Abilene’s skin crawled with electricity, Jason grinned. “Soon,” he said.

               “Too late.” Percy pointed east, a smug glint in his eyes. Looking to where he was pointing, Abilene noticed something—a winged, black shape, spiraling toward them. The silhouette galloped across the air with extraordinary grace, and Elisa’s scowl turned to a small smile as if she recognized the winged animal.

               Piper looked amazed. “A black pegasus?” she asked. “Never seen one like that.” 

               The black pegasus landed, with the hooves clop-clop-clop across the sealed tar as he trotted for Percy. The stallion threw his head back, ruffling his wings as his tails whipped around. He huffed, throwing his head again, a sign for Percy to pat his muzzle. The pegasus huffed again, his head tilting inquisitively toward Abilene, Piper, and Jason. She knew Percy could understand horses ( something to do with his father, Poseidon ), and she wondered what the pegasus had said.

               Percy gestured to the others. “Blackjack, this is Abilene, Piper, and Jason. They’re friends.”

               The horse nickered. 

               “Uh … maybe later,” Percy answered. 

               Piper’s amazement turned to incredulousness. “What … what does Blackjack want?”

               “What does Blackjack want?” she asked. 

               “Donuts,” Percy said. “Always donuts. He can carry only three of us, but—” 

               Abilene’s skin prickled as the air suddenly cooled. Her ears popped, and she winced at the sudden feeling. She glanced up at the sky, her shock becoming worse at the sight of storm clouds brewing—a miniature cyclone, easily tree stories tall that tore across the tops of sunflowers. Once it touched down on the road beside Jason, light shimmered through the storm just enough to show the form of a horse made of flickering lightning and fog. 

               “Tempest.” Jason grinned broadly. He moved to touch the horse’s neck, but small bolts of lightning shot into Jason’s hand and the fog hissed loudly. “Long time, my friend.” 

               The storm spirit reared and whinnied, upset with the presence of a pegasus; too, Blackjack was skittish with Tempest, backing up slowly. Percy petted Blackjack’s neck, saying, “Easy boy … He’s a friend, too.” He raised eyebrows at Jason, reluctantly impressed. “Nice ride, Grace.”

               The son of Jupiter shrugged. “I made friends with him during our fight at the Wolf House. He’s a free spirit—literally—but once in a while he agrees to help me.” 

               “He also works as a moving electric outlet,” added Elisa helpfully, smiling slightly as Jason shot her a look and Piper snickered behind her hand. 

               Percy climbed onto Blackjack’s back, moving to offer a hand to Elisa, but she apparently didn’t need the help. Jason climbed onto Tempest’s back, offering to help Piper climb onto the horse’s back. Abilene was apprehensive at the idea of riding on the back of a beast that could seemingly vaporize into nothing at any given moment. Elisa seemingly noticed the apprehension, holding out a hand for Abilene to take. She helped pull the brunette onto the back of the pegasus, and as soon as Abilene was sat, the two steads took off.

               Embarrassingly enough, Abilene almost fell off as soon as Blackjack took off into the sky. She held on, watching queasily as the fields below grew further and further away as Percy guided Blackjack through the sky; far below, Tempest tore down the sealed tar like a raging tornado. She didn’t have many options—ride the horse made out of lightning and fog, or ride the horse that flew through the air ( neither would have been Abilene first, let alone even fourth option ). 

               Fortunately for Abilene’s stomach, it didn’t take much time at all to reach the 32nd-mile marker Piper had claimed she’d seen in visions in the blade of her knife (admittedly, that didn’t make much sense to Abilene, but she also knew she didn’t have much room to argue considering she was the daughter of Gaea ). As soon as Blackjack’s hooves touched the tar, Abilene was jumping off the pegasus’s back, relieved—despite all the Earth was—that her feet were back on solid ground.

               Elisa looked a bit amused, her lips pulling to one side as she slipped off Blackjack. “Don’t like air?” Her tone gave away even more amusement, but she didn’t want to tease Abilene outright. 

               “Uh … no.” Abilene brushed down her T-shirt. “Can’t say I do.”

               Elisa hummed to herself, in an I-figure manner. She spun on her heels, looking around at everything. “So … Topeka 32, what now?”

               Both horses pawed the asphalt, sharing mutual restlessness despite the previous apprehension of one another. Neither looked pleased to have stopped so suddenly, especially right after finding their stride. 

               Piper opened her mouth to reply to Elisa, but loudly, Blackjack whinnied, cutting the daughter of Aphrodite off. Percy frowned, his head tilting slightly as he looked around. “You’re right,” he agreed with the pegasus. “No sign of the Wine Dude.”

               Elisa scowled, looking at Percy. “Again with the Wine Dude—?”

               A voice rippled over Elisa’s, shocking her into surprising silence; “I beg your pardon?”

               Both Abilene and Elisa spun around, clearly startled. Tempest turned so quickly that Piper nearly fell off. Through the wheat on the other side of the road, a figure of a man stepped through—Abilene even thought that he wasn’t even touching the plants, maybe the snap of his fingers made them part for him. With the way Elisa cringed to herself, Abilene only had to guess this was someone she recognized—and hopefully Bacchus. The man had jet-black, curly hair, purple eyes, and an androgynous face. The Roman God of Wine didn’t wear exactly what Abilene expected—a deep purple, button-up shirt that was printed with the pattern of leopards woven within wildly-spun grapevines. He wore some greenish khakis with some casual loafers, making him look like a walking cluster of grapes. 

               Admittedly, Abilene could see the resemblance. Between Elisa and Bacchus, that is. A lot of times, when meeting godly parents, you can’t exactly tell. There might be a few hints here and there—eye colors, hair maybe, a few mannerisms, powers ( most oftentimes )—but it was never so exact you could pinpoint exactly who a demigod’s godly parent was. But now having met Bacchus, Abilene could see exactly how Elisa was the daughter of his Greek form. Despite Elisa being far more tan than Bacchus, they had the same hair and eyes, just with Elisa sporting a grey streak in her hair near the front of her face. Their eyes had the same wildness—not the wildness of nature, but of something crazier. This energy that buzzed, not of lightning, but of something more uncontrollable. Their expressions were also eerily similar, too. Both scowled deeply, their bottom lips tugging downwards as their top teeth showed; the most noticeable difference was the dimple on the side of Elisa’s scowl. 

               The apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree. 

               “Did someone just call me the Wine Dude?” a lazy drawl slipped from the god’s mouth. “It’s Bacchus, please. Or Mr. Bacchus. Or Lord Bacchus. Or, sometimes, Oh-My-Gods-Please-Don’t-Kill-Me, Lord Bacchus.” 

               Elisa grunted unceremoniously, her frown deepening. “So he’s not that different in this version …”

               Percy urged Blackjack forward, though the pegasus didn’t seem happy about it. “You look different,” he told the god. “Your hair is shorter. You’re more buff. And your shirt isn’t so loud.” 

               Abilene glanced at Elisa, trying to gauge how badly Percy just messed up. From the way he’d spoken before, Percy didn’t have a good relationship with his girlfriend’s father ( though he clarified it wasn’t entirely because Elisa and him were dating ), but Bacchus wasn’t Dionysus. There were parts, sure, but not entirely. She had heard Bacchus always had a bit of mood swings, but figured it was the madness. And if Bacchus had any recollection of Elisa ( which didn’t seem likely since she was Greek ), the relationship between Percy and his girlfriend’s father was certainly more soured. 

               Elisa’s eyes flickered over to the son of Poseidon. “Percy.”

               But he couldn’t take the words back. They had already slipped out of his mouth and into Bacchus’s ears. The god scowled at him, but it was more annoyed than anger, like Percy’s voice was this annoying background noise he needed to get rid of. “What in blazes are you talking about? Who are you, and where is Ceres?” 

               Abilene grimaced silently, her stomach twisting. It was a fifty-fifty shot of being a really good thing or really bad thing Ceres was supposed to show up. Good; Ceres would recognize Abilene and take pity and not kill her for parading around, saying she was Ceres’s daughter. Bad; Ceres has taken offense to the daughter of Gaea parading around, saying she was Ceres’s daughter instead and kills Abilene.

               It was honestly a fifty-fifty shot as Ceres had never done anything, but the odds didn’t feel fifty-fifty. They felt more like zero-hundred shot. 

               Jason stepped forward, nodding respectfully to the god. “Lord Bacchus, do you remember me? I helped you with that missing leopard in Sonoma.” 

               The God of Wine frowned lightly, scratching at the light stubble around his jaw. “Ah … yes. John Green.” 

               “Uh … Jason Grace.” 

               “Whatever.” The god waved his hand dismissively. ( Elisa rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath so only Percy and Abilene could hear; “No, not much difference …” ) “Did Ceres send you, then?” 

               Jason hesitated, swallowing nervously. He licked his lips before answering. “No, Lord Bacchus,” he admitted, his voice as even as it could be in a situation like this. “Were you expecting to meet her here?” 

               The god snorted, which didn’t exactly fit the poorly dressed business casual he had. “Well, I didn’t come to Kansas to party, my boy. Ceres asked me here for a council of war. What with Gaea rising, the crops are withering. Droughts are spreading. The karpoi are in revolt. Even my grapes aren’t safe. Ceres wanted a united front in the plant war.” 

               Percy quirked a brow, looking a bit amused. “The plant war,” he said, a tilt to his voice making him sound like he was snickering at the idea. “You’re gonna arm up all the little grapes with tiny assault rifles?”

               Before Abilene could make an indignant response to what was practically an insult against her, Elisa punched the part of Percy she could reach—his left thigh. He yelped, raising his knee as he rubbed the patch of skin she had hit. She jabbed a finger at him, hissing, “I know you know what plants can do in a fight!”

               The exchange had to make Bacchus look at them, his eyes narrowing to small slivers. “Have we met?” he asked the two. Apparently, to him, Elisa wasn’t all that recognizable. Either she was too Greek, or Bacchus was just one rather poor father ( and both seemed like plausible answers, especially the second option ).

               “Uh …” Elisa looked stunned, and Abilene wasn’t entirely sure if hurt flashed across the girl’s face. “Camp Half-Blood. You were Camp Director—everyone called you Mr. D, but Dionysus—”

               At the name, the god doubled over at the waist. “Argh!” he groaned loudly, pressing his fingers to his temples like he was nursing a splitting headache. Abilene took a small step back as Bacchus’s image flickered in the sunlight. For a split second, she saw a different person—taller, thinner, in a wine-colored dress shirt, black dress pants, and an out-of-place golden laurel wreath. Bacchus groaned miserably again, the image flickering back to what he stepped out in. “Stop that!” he demanded. “Stop thinking about me in Greek!” 

               The daughter of Dionysus stared, clearly taken aback. “I—” Her eyebrows pinched. “What—?”

               “Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused?! Splitting headaches all the time! I never know what I’m doing or where I’m going! Constantly grumpy!” 

               Percy glanced at his girlfriend. “... Doesn’t sound that different from before—”

               “You!” Bacchus pointed a finger at Elisa, who looked like she had gotten knocked in the stomach. “Why are you here?”

               Percy frowned, noticing the way Elisa’s expression twisted. “Hey, man. You don’t have to—”

               However, Bacchus doubled over in pain again, each hand pressed against his head tightly. All the demigods sucked in nervous air in unison as the god’s image flickered once again—the taller, thinner man appeared for a split second, and for longer this time. He was struggling between this form, his Roman form, and his Greek form, Dionysus. He cursed, an odd mix of Latin and what Abilene could only assume to be ancient Greek. She’s heard of divine forms, and if the God of Wine couldn’t choose between Bacchus or Dionysus, he might be forced into divine form. 

               And that would be anything but good.

               Elisa glanced at the others, her eyes wilder than before—an odd mix of fear, hurt, and guilt. “I’m making it worse,” she stated. “Being the daughter of his Greek form.”

               Bacchus’s form flickered again to the brief flashes of Dionysus. He moaned and grumbled, his face twisted with pain. All of them stared for a few long seconds, then Piper stepped for Elisa, pulling her back. The daughter of Dionysus didn’t argue, watching Bacchus like he was a burning car wreck—shock and horror written all across her face. She looked sucker punched at her own statement that she was causing Bacchus to be like this. 

               Piper squeezed Elisa’s arm before spinning around and giving the God of Wine a dazzling smile. “Lord Bacchus!” she exclaimed with a light, cheerful tone, stepping towards the god.

               “Piper, careful,” Jason murmured as Tempest clopped nervously on its hooves. Sparks flew with every step the horse made. 

               Piper shot the son of Jupiter a warning glance: I’ve got this. She turned back around, the dazzling smile returning. “Sorry to trouble you, Lord Bacchus.” She made a clear emphasis on his name, and it seemed to be helping as the god straightened, rubbing his right temple with a grimace. “But actually we came here to get your advice. Please, we need your wisdom.” 

               Abilene has seen charmspeak a time or two from Venus’s kids at Camp, but she never really appreciated it until this time. The magic slipped into her words, sending a warm feeling across Abilene’s shoulders, like someone had placed a heavy blanket on her; she felt herself relaxing despite Bacchus’s reaction to Elisa. 

               The Roman God of Wine narrowed his eyes on Piper, and the vicious, purple glow of his eyes simmered. He seemed intrigued by her, perhaps picking up on the charmspeak in her words. “You’re well-spoken, girl. Advice, eh? Very well. I would avoid karaoke—Ever heard drunks trying to sing? Not a good time, obviously. Really, theme parties in general are out. In these austere times, people are looking for a simple, low-key affair, with locally produced organic snacks and—”

               “Not about parties,” Piper interrupted. “Although that’s—uh—incredibly useful advice, Lord Bacchus. We were hoping you’d help us on our quest.” 

               The daughter of Aphrodite explained their quest in record time—their voyage to stop the giants from awakening Gaea, the Argo II’s arrival-turned-rapid-escape from New Rome, Nemesis’s warning that they only had six days or the old Rom would be destroyed. As one final send-off, Piper explained the vision she had seen in Katoptris—Bacchus offering her a silver goblet.

               The god looked unhappy at his inclusion, his face twisting and curling. “Silver goblet?” he drawled, as if something like a silver goblet was beneath him. And out of thin air, a Diet Pepsi appeared, floating mid-air as the top went pop! as it opened.

               Both Elisa and Percy stared at Bacchus, the site of a Diet Pepsi seemingly horrifying them. Elisa still looked shell-shocked that Bacchus had such a horrible reaction to her ( even despite her not wanting to go in the first place ). 

               “You drink Diet Coke,” Percy said plainly.

               “Dionysus swore off Pepsi ...” Elisa muttered under her breath, to the point only Abilene and Percy could hear her. “Said they tasted like carbonated, dirty corn syrup.”

               Percy snorted suddenly, making Bacchus snap his eyes over to them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he huffed, upturning his nose haughtily. “As to this vision of the goblet, young lady …” He looked back at Piper, who straightened, awaiting his answer. “I have nothing for you to drink unless you want a Pepsi. Jupiter has put me under strict orders to avoid giving wine to minors. Bothersome, but there you have it. As for the giants, I know them well. I fought in the first Giant War, you know.” 

               “You can fight?” Percy asked. 

               Elisa scowled so deeply that Abilene was afraid her jaw was about to fall off. Bacchus grew furious, snarling at the son of Poseidon. In mid-air, his Diet Pepsi transformed into a five-foot staff wreathed in ivy, topped with a pinecone. He grabbed it, pointing it at Percy; Blackjack flapped his wings, nickering loudly ( Abilene hoped he was fussing at Percy for being such a loudmouth ). 

               “A thyrsus!” Piper exclaimed, trying to distract the god before he whacked Percy over the head ( though, Abilene doubted Elisa wouldn’t be the first to do it, just with her fist ). “Oh, what a mighty weapon!” 

               The god straightened, lowering the thyrsus slightly. “Indeed,” he agreed, his chest puffed out. He eyed Percy for a long moment, the purple anger in his eyes dying very slowly. “I’m glad someone in your group is smart. The thyrsus is a fearsome tool of destruction! I was a demigod myself in the first Giant War, you know. The son of Jupiter!” 

               Jason flinched, and he shared an awkward glance with Elisa. Neither seemed thrilled at the reminder that, based on mythology, they were uncle and niece. Those odd familiar relationships certainly put a damper on friendships.

               Bacchus set the staff beside him, resting his weight on the leg on his opposite side. He tilted his chin up, pride filling his voice; “Of course that was long before I invented wine and became an immortal. I fought side-by-side with the gods and some other demigod …” his head tilted back down as he thought about it for a moment, “Harry Cleese, I think.” 

               “Heracles?” Piper suggested politely, her lips forming a tight smile.

               “Whatever.” Bacchus waved his free hand. “Anyway, I killed the giant Ephialtes and his brother Otis. Horrible boors, those two. Pinecone in the face for both of them!” 

               The idea struck Abilene like a pinecone to the skull. Ephialtes and his brother Otis. There was a line from the prophecy Ella gave: Twins snuff out the angel’s breath. She glanced at the others, and it was clear they had all come to the same conclusion.

               “Uh, Lord Bacchus,” Abilene started, peering at the god closely. She wasn’t able to control the nervousness she felt. “The giants you mentioned—Ephialtes and Otis—are they … twins?” 

               The god was admiring the thyrsus but hummed at her questions. “Well … yes, twins.” He looked at her, and his purple eyes narrowed. “I know you—Gaea’s half-blood.”

               “Um … yes.”

               “Juno placed a large gamble on your head,” he mused. “Whether you would join Gaea or continue with the gods.” He pricked his finger on the top of the thyrsus, like one would with a needle, only he drew no blood. “Let’s just say … I hold no love for Juno, and hold absolutely no trust for her.”

               “I’m against Gaea, Lord Bacchus” Abilene didn’t know how else she could state it. She wasn’t doing it for the gods, she was doing it because Gaea wanted to destroy humanity. 

               Piper stepped forward again, her fingers spreading out as she told Bacchus; “That’s why we’re here.” Her voice held more confidence than before. “You’re part of our quest!” 

               The God of Wine frowned at her. “I’m sorry, my girl. I’m not a demigod anymore. I don’t do quests.” 

               “But giants can only be killed by heroes and gods working together,” she insisted. “You’re a god now, and the two giants we have to fight are Ephialtes and Otis. I think … I think they’re waiting for us in Rome. They’re going to destroy the city somehow. The silver goblet I saw in my vision—maybe it’s meant as a symbol for your help. You have to help us kill the giants!” 

               Abilene winced at Piper’s poor choice of words. You don’t tell gods what they have to do. And that was evident by the glare Bacchus was giving the daughter of Aphrodite. “My girl,” he sneered cooly, “I don’t have to do anything. Besides, I only help those who give me proper tribute, which no one has managed to do in many, many centuries.” 

               Blackjack whinnied uneasily, and Abilene didn’t blame him. The idea of tribute didn’t ever sound good, especially a tribute to the God of Madness. And the way Bacchus said it, what he wanted as tribute was something very, very dangerous.

               Percy voiced the question that she was too scared to ask: “What kind of tribute?” 

               Bacchus waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing you could handle, insolent Greek. But I will give you some free advice, since this girl—” he gestured at Piper, “—does have some manners. Seek out Gaea’s son, Phorcys. He always hated his mother, not that I can blame him—as I’m sure you know.” He looked pointedly at Abilene, who shifted uncomfortably. “He didn’t have much use for his siblings, the twins, either. You’ll find him in the city they named after that heroine—Atalanta.”

               Elisa pursed her lips. “You mean … Atlanta?”

               Bacchus frowned at her, still miffed at the splitting headaches she caused him. “That’s what I said, of course.”

               “But this Phorcys,” Jason spoke up. “Is he a giant? A Titan?” 

               Bacchus laughed. “Neither. Seek out the salt water.” 

               Percy’s stare turned incredulous. “Salt water…” he muttered. “In Atlanta?” 

               “Yes.” The god scowled at him. “Are you hard of hearing, boy? If anyone can give you insight on Gaea and the twins, it’s Phorcys. Just watch out for him.” 

               Abilene frowned. “What do you mean?”

               The god glanced at the summer sun, which had climbed almost to high noon. “It’s unlike Ceres to be late—unless she sensed something dangerous in this area. Or …” His face suddenly slack. “Or a trap. Well, I must be going! And if I were you, I’d do the same!” 

               Jason’s eyes widened. “Lord Bacchus, wait—!”

               Too late. The god shimmered and disappeared into thin air with a pop!

               “I hate when he does that …” Elisa grumbled, glaring around at all the sunflower fields surrounding them. 

               Jason glanced at the daughter of Dionysus. “Look, Elisa, I didn’t realize Bacchus was—”

               She shook her head. “I should’ve figured. I’m the daughter of his Greek form, that would’ve made him more confused than he already was.”

               “Well, at least we know now,” agreed Piper.

               Percy opened his mouth to say something, but Elisa held up a hand to him. Her eyebrows knitted together, her head snapping back and forth, looking up and down the road. The wind rustled through the sunflowers. Despite the dry, hot day, Abilene shivered, feeling something … heavy crawling from the earth. She didn’t see anything, but she felt it—this chilling feeling, penetrating her muscles, embedding deep into her bones. Her brain felt muddied, the pressure behind her eyes, like she was sharing more space in her brain with something that shouldn’t be there.

               Elisa’s eyes widened, her hand reaching for the miniature thyrsus in her back pocket. Vaguely, it looked like she mouthed A cold feeling to herself. “We have to leave,” she demanded. “Now.”

               Too late, mused a sleepy voice, humming through the fields all around them, like the voice was being projected through the seeds of the flowers. The horses nervous cantering turned worse, turning around in circles, looking for the voice. 

               Abilene reached for Viridis. Percy and Jason drew their swords. Elisa looked around wildly, a spear shimmering into her hands. Piper gasped loudly as every sunflower seen for miles turned to look at them; all fields of wheat had bent towards them like a sea of sharpened scythes. 

               Welcome to my party, Gaea murmured. Her voice was like corn growing—a crackling, hissing, hot, and persistent noise Abilene would hear the rare times George would grow corn in Montana on quiet nights. What did Bacchus say? A simple, low-key affair with organic snacks? Yes. For my snacks, I need only two: the blood of a female demigod, and the blood of a male. Alas, we have some uneven numbers here.

               “Gaea!” Jason yelled. “Stop hiding in the wheat. Show yourself!” 

               Such bravado, Gaea chuckled, but she didn’t sound amused; she sounded angered, upset that Jason had been able to stand up to her. But the other one, Percy Jackson, also has appeal. Perhaps madness’s daughter has an opinion.  

               Elisa’s brows pinched as her shoulders straightened. Then, her eyes widened, but they hardened just as fast. She had understood something entirely else from Gaea's words; something Abilene wasn't privy to. “The hell are you talking about, Gaea?” she spat, her eyes darting from sunflower to sunflower.

               The voice hummed, musing cooly, Then again, I wonder if my daughter has wondered about her choice. If she has wondered what consequences she will face. Choose, Elisa Bardales—or I will.

               “I’m not choosing anything for you, Gaea!” Elisa yelled loudly, her anger rising.

               Suddenly, Jason gasped. He lurched upright in his saddle. The chill raised goosebumps along Abilene’s arms as she shuddered, pressing her eyes closed for a moment. Piper gasped, staring at Jason in shock. “Jason!” she cried. “What’s wrong—?”

               Abilene’s chills worsened when she saw Jason’s eyes—glowing, solid gold. He stared at Piper, his eyes dead and still. 

               “Shit!” Elisa cursed. She spun around, saying, “Percy—”

               But the son of Poseidon was already galloping away. Any attempts Elisa tried to make to grab his attention fell on deaf ears. He stopped thirty feet down the road, wheeled Black around, and his sword was raised at shoulder level. The sword was pointed directly at Jason.

               Piper rushed next to Elisa, grabbing her by the arm. “Elisa …?” Her voice was full of worry.

               Elisa looked between the two wildly. “They’re not in their right minds.”

               Gods, Abilene’s mind hurt, too. She kneeled down, one hand on the road, the other pressing her eyes back. The chillness that had been sitting on her shoulders felt embedded within her now. “One will die,” Percy said, but it wasn’t his voice. This voice was something much older—deep, hollow, and abstract of humanity.

               “I will choose,” Jason answered, in the same hollow voice. 

               And Piper’s yells were the last thing Abilene heard before the same hollow voice filled her own mind.

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter nine

━━ ELISA SHOULD’VE KNOWN. The coldness, the whispers, the laughing—all things she heard the day before as they sailed for Camp Jupiter and New Rome. She knew something was wrong, and yet, didn’t act on that feeling.

               And here, it had come to possess her boyfriend. Literally.

               She watched, horrified, as both Jason and Percy were pulling their steeds to a standstill, turning around to face each other. There was no way she could stop them, but still, her heart raced as she tried to think of any way to stop them. “Stop it!” she yelled, her voice desperate—however, neither listened to her.

               “Abilene?” Piper asked behind her, having turned around to face the brunette. The daughter of Gaea drew Elisa’s attention as she bent over at the waist, holding her head in her hands like she had a pounding headache. Elisa’s stomach churned with aversion as she watched Abilene; even if it wasn’t the girl’s fault, her connection to Gaea made her dangerous; however, that aversion felt justified when she finally stood up and her eyes—no longer blue, they were a ghoulish gold. Her eyes had already been jarring as blue as they were, but this gold—it was like two gold coins had been placed inside her skull, reflecting the summer sun above them. 

               Elisa pulled Piper back as the daughter of Aphrodite gasped in shock. Abilene’s face was blank as she spoke; “Choose, Elisa Bardales.” However, this wasn’t Abilene’s voice. Her voice had typically been soft, like she had specially chosen every word in her head before she uttered them aloud. Abilene seemed careful and methodical, and this voice was anything but; this voice was hollow and haunting, it was raspy and rough. 

               The daughter of Gaea drew her sword, the gold glinting in the sunlight. Behind them, Percy and Jason charged for each other.

               If it hadn’t been for the horses, Elisa and Piper would’ve died. Both Tempest and Blackjack balked, aware that something was wrong and it was dangerous. Elisa hooked one arm around Piper’s stomach and pulled both of them out of the way. They rolled across the asphalt and onto the dirt, creating a dust cloud behind them. The rocks embedded into the dirt scraped and bruised their skin as they rolled, but it was the better option than getting trampled by two horses.

               Elisa pulled herself to her knees as quickly as she could, one hand braced against the ground as her vision swam. Her eyes widened as her vision unblurred itself—Percy and Jason were crossing swords. The metals clashed, a mighty clash of bronze against gold, and the sound echoed across the fields almost like gunfire. Sparks flew from the blades as they met in battle. The blades blurred—strike and parry—and the pavement trembled beneath them. The first exchange took only a second, but Elisa felt like she was watching for an eternity, worried one was going to injure the other. The horses pulled away from each other—Tempest thundering in protest, Blackjack flapping his wings. 

               Elisa glanced at Abilene, trying to guess what she was going to do—but how could she even guess? She didn’t know Abilene, and even then, this—the thing taking over her body—wasn’t Abilene. This wasn’t madness, either; this felt very deliberate, planned, and coordinated. Her brain worked a mile a minute—this all felt coordinated, the possessions of Jason, Percy, and Abilene, meaning they obviously had a goal they were working towards. What could they be working towards? What could possibly be the end goal of this?

               Choose, Elisa Bardales.

               The hollow words echoed in her head, and each syllable reverberated inside her skull like drums. Without thinking much further, Elisa stumbled to her feet, Acantha gripped tightly in her hands. Fight fire with fire, part of her brain reasoned. Fight powers with powers; plants with plants. It was stupid, she knew that, but she could also see Abilene raising her sword and the wheat field shivering behind her—almost like anticipating the bloodshed Abilene could cause with her powers.

               She skidded to a stop in front of Abilene, and the brunette’s suddenly cold eyes landed on her. The thing taking over Abilene’s body was struggling—either against Abilene, or it was struggling to control something so foreign to them. However, Elisa could tell there was a struggle. Abilene’s hands quivered as she held her sword, and the wheat field behind her started to bob up and down, as if unsure of what to listen to. The sword gleamed in the sunlight. Abilene’s expression twisted, and she slowly started to back up; however, even her footsteps were hesitant. Then — she went rigid, her back straightened as her face went slack. 

               Elisa threw Acantha out in front of her, the wooden shaft almost like a bar across her chest. Jolts of pain shot up her arms and across her chest and shoulders as Abilene’s sword collided with Acantha. She gritted her teeth, pushing back against Abilene, whose flat part of the golden blade turned to press back. Digging the balls of her feet into the ground, Elisa pushed her left arm forward, and five or so sunflowers extended and wrapped around Abilene’s right arm and leg. Abilene was pulled away, dust billowing behind her as she was pulled off the asphalt and onto exposed dirt. Elisa stumbled, nearly rolling forward; the act of controlling sunflowers took more out of her than originally planned. Vines were her forte, not sunflower stems.

               “Elisa!” Piper shouted, her face contorted with shock. She was frozen—at the sight of Percy and Jason fighting, but also at Abilene and Elisa fighting. She had seen both Jason and Elisa in battles before, but never on opposite sides, and never fighting people they were supposed to be friends with—but they didn’t have a choice. Something was taking hold of the others, and if they, Elisa and Piper, didn’t too something to stop it, Percy and Jason were going to kill each other and Abilene was probably going to kill them all. 

               “I got Abilene!” Elisa shouted back in reply, climbing back to both feet as steadily as she could ( however, her vision still swam from the push of her powers ). “You deal with Percy and Jason! Make sure they don’t kill each other!”

               Piper hesitated for a moment, and Elisa tried not to scream at her again. Whatever she had seen in the visions on Katoptris made her hesitate, and by all accounts, she was still a newbie in demigod terms, only aware of her godly parentage for about six months at this point. But she swallowed hard and scrambled to her feet, her hands extended out in front of her as she ran for Percy and Jason. “Stop it!” she screamed, and a burst of persuasion echoed across the road and fields. 

               Both Blackjack and Tempest reared away from one another, throwing their heads and stamping their hooves loudly. As Piper’s desperate pleas rippled across the grounds, it seemed, for a short moment, that maybe Jason had heard her—Jason and not whatever was currently controlling his body. His brows furrowed and his golden eyes glanced towards the daughter of Aphrodite; however, Percy charged, slamming Riptide into Jason’s blade. In those split seconds, Percy turned Riptide’s blade so the flat of it hit Jason square in the chest. Elisa couldn’t tell if the turn was accidental or on purpose, but the impact was still enough to knock the son of Jupiter off his mount.

               Elisa couldn’t watch any longer, reeling backwards as Abilene’s sword swiped inches from her nose. She gasped, stumbling back and almost falling off her feet. Fortunately, she kept her balance all the while avoiding the sharp blade swiping across the front of her face. The wheat field behind them shook—patches rocking back and forth, parts crumpling like paper, and others snapping in half. Both Elisa and Abilene were wrestling for control of the field as they fought one another—and Elisa’s control was waning. She made a split-second decision. She was losing the plant vs. plants, so … brute force. 

               She took three, large steps forward, her right shoulder crashing into the very middle of Abilene’s chest. Pain shot through Elisa’s shoulder, but Abilene gasped as the air was forcibly removed from her lungs—then she groaned as the air she had managed to gasp in escaped as she hit the hot asphalt. 

               “Abilene, snap out of this!” she shouted at the girl, half wondering if the louder she became, the more likely Abilene would hear her. “I’m hoping this isn’t you! And if it is—”

               “Quite your incessant talking,” Abilene snapped. It was the same hollow voice. She wasn’t even sure if Abilene could hear her anymore. “Abilene is no longer in control.”

               Elisa didn’t want to hurt Abilene, but whatever had control of Abilene’s body didn’t offer her that same courtesy. Elisa was just an annoyance, now—something that was just in their way, stopping them from reaching Jason. She didn’t want to do anything that could potentially hurt Abilene, and so she tried to use more sunflower stems to bind Abilene—a power that would quickly drain her if she wasn’t careful. However, there was only so much Elisa could do without drawing blood. 

               The stems only seemed to anger the creature that had overtaken Abilene. “You cannot stop the inevitable, Daughter of Madness.”

               The line didn’t scare Elisa as much as the creature had hoped. She had heard the line one too many times over her seventeen years as a demigod, and over the nearly five years she had known about about her status as a half-god, half-mortal. “Yeah, sure.” She scoffed lightly. “I’ve heard that one before.”

               The ghostly voice chuckled, and the sound sent shivers across Elisa’s skin. The golden eyes glinted with the sun overhead. “But you have not seen anything like this before. Even your madness has its own limits.”

               Elisa’s scowl turned downward as her heart skipped a fearful beat. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, her voice taking an off-kilter sound. Both she and the creature were aware it had struck a nerve within her.

               “Dionysus’s daughter is fearful,” the hollow voice pointed out, and the look on Abilene’s face was horrifyingly gleeful. “Isn’t that what madness is? Fear? You haven’t changed, Elisa Bardales. You have only grown into your madness. And isn’t that what you’re so afraid of?”

               Elisa scowled. “You—”

               Jason’s shouts of anger cut off Elisa’s string of insults. Far above, the sky cracked and split apart. Both Abilene and Elisa broke apart to shield their heads as lightning splintered down from the clear sky. She stared, her eyes widening as she saw who the arc was aiming for. “Percy—!”

               The lightning ricocheted off Jason’s gladius and struck Percy square in the chest. He flew off Blackjack, skidding a few feet as smoke billowed from his chest and into the air with a small, curling plume. Elisa started to climb back to her feet, ready to run for him—but a thick sunflower stem controlled by Abilene had curled around her left ankle and she flew through the air as it flicked her backwards. Her groans of pain were muffled as she rolled across the ground, pain searing all across the right side of her body. She tried to push herself back onto her feet, with her heart dropping as Jason charged and raised his gladius high above Percy’s head. For a horrible moment, she swore she heard Gaea’s chilling voice laughing in the back of her mind.

               Behind her, she could hear Abilene’s feet hit the ground. She could see her shadow moving in the sunlight, growing longer and longer as she grew closer. Elisa flipped onto her back, jolts of pain jarring through her back. She kicked her right leg out, sweeping it forward and kicking the back of Abilene’s ankles. The daughter of Gaea hissed as her feet fell out from underneath her and she scraped her hands on the asphalt as she tried to save her fall.

               “No!” Piper had long grown desperate. She stood between the four, letting out: “Stop! All of you!”

               Even Elisa was influenced by the charmspeak. She froze, already halfway to her feet—however, now, it felt like her limbs were made of lead. 

               Jason had froze. His sword was six inches from Percy’s face. He turned, the gold light in his eyes flickering uncertainly. “I cannot stop,” the hollow voice replied. “One must die.” 

               Gaining control and feeling back to her limbs was like when your hands or feet went numb from restricted blood flow. It was this almost static-like feeling that slowly grew more and more painful—until it went away. The static feeling went away and Elisa jumped to her feet, kicking Abilene’s sword away from the brunette. The sound of loud as it skittered across the road in the absence of Percy and Jason’s fighting.

               Piper looked at Elisa briefly, scanning the girl’s face, as if making sure Elisa didn’t have any golden eyes. “Who are you?” the daughter of Aphrodite demanded from the creature inhabiting Jason. 

               Jason’s mouth twisted in a crooked, gruesome smile. “We are the eidolons. We will live again.” 

               Elisa looked between Jason, Percy, and then Abilene. “Eidolons … ?” she murmured aloud. She had been studying monsters for years and years now, but this name even escaped her mind. “Are—are you a ghost?”

               The eidolon must’ve not liked Elisa the way it liked Piper as it refused to answer her, turning back to Percy. “He must die.” 

               Elisa’s heart lurched. “Wait—!”

               However, Percy was not as dazed as they had all first thought. He lept up, and swept out a leg—Jason was knocked off his feet, and his head hit the tarmac with a nauseating thunk! Elisa winced, her stomach churning as the sound practically reverberated across the road. 

               Percy rose. 

               “Stop it!” Piper screamed again, but there was no charmspeak within her voice now—nothing except sheer desperation.

               Percy raised Riptide over Jason’s chest. Elisa started to run forward, however, the flat of a blade knocked into the back of her left knee, and Elisa was sent knees-first into the tarmac. She hissed in pain, rolling her legs out from underneath her—the skin of her knees was scuffed, and small pools of blood were starting to form. Behind her, Abilene started to stand up, the ghoulish glow of her eyes there. Instead of striking at Elisa, she only stepped around the daughter of Dionysus—heading for Percy and Jason. Elisa tried stepping up, but as she fell, it seemed she had also twisted her right ankle—it seared with pain as she tried getting up.

               Piper looked between the four, her eyes widening as she saw Abilene step around Elisa and head for Percy and Jason. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She locked eyes with Elisa, and her hands tightened; her knuckles turned white around the hilt of Katoptris. “Eidolon, stop.” 

               She must’ve poured all her anger and rage into the command, her charmspeak twisting those emotions into something commanding—something so commanding that Abilene and Percy both froze in place.

               “Face me,” the daughter of Aphrodite ordered. 

               Both of them turned. Elisa watched carefully, her eyes flickering between Percy and Abilene. Piper stood there, looking between the two eidolons with what Elisa hoped was unwavering confidence. 

               “You have not chosen,” Percy said, though it was so unlike his voice. His eyes were gold instead of green; his face pale and cruel, not at all like what Elisa knew.  “So this one will die.” 

               “You’re a spirit from the Underworld,” Piper declared, and Elisa hoped the daughter of Aphrodite was correct. “You’re possessing Percy Jackson and Abilene Briar. Is that it?” 

               Abilene sneered, and it looked odd on her face. “We will live again in these bodies. The Earth Mother has promised. We will go where we please, control whom we wish.” 

               A wave of cold washed over Elisa. This is what happened to Leo. Elisa should’ve really known! She racked her brain—had Nico ever mentioned these things before? Maybe Annabeth knew, and she told Elisa how you could deal with them. “So it wasn’t Leo who attacked New Rome?” she spoke aloud. “It was you—or … one of your buddies.”

               The thing inside Percy laughed without a sliver of the humor Percy had, and it made Elisa’s stomach churn with anger and disgust. “Too late you realize. You can trust no one.” 

               In the wheat field behind them, something with a sleek black coat rustled around. Elisa swore she even saw the tip of a black wing jut out—before being quickly tucked back away. Simultaneously, Abilene and Percy frowned, starting to turn around to face the noise. However, Piper blurted: “Ignore it! Look at me.” 

               They obeyed the daughter of Aphrodite, both sneering at her. “You cannot stop us,” they whispered in unison. It was like a pair of twin snakes, and Elisa hated it. “We will kill Jason Grace.” 

               Blackjack emerged from the wheat field behind them, moving with surprising stealth for such a large animal. Piper’s face remained even, however, Elisa knew the determined look behind her eyes—the same look as they faced the Earthborn last December. “You won’t kill them,” she ordered, her eyes locking onto the pegasus. “You will knock them out.” 

               The charmspeak washed over Percy and Abilene. They glanced at each other, their weight shifting as they were torn between their own wants and Piper’s commands. “We … will knock them out?”

               A smile suddenly tugged at Piper’s lips. “Oh, sorry.” She shrugged, as if to say Whoops! However, her face was painted with extremely smug pride. “I wasn’t talking to you guys.” 

               Blackjack reared back onto his hind legs, and brought each hoof down onto Percy and Abilene’s heads respectively. Elisa winced silently as the two crumpled onto the pavement with their own crunch!

               Piper raced over to Elisa, pulling the daughter of Dionysus to her feet. Elisa ignored the rest of Piper’s help, stumbling over to Percy’s side. Her ankle screamed at her but she ignored it, kneeling at Percy’s side. 

               “Gods, Blackjack!” she hissed. “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

               The pegasus snorted with indignation. Elisa couldn’t speak Horse, but she had known Blackjack long enough to know he was giving her some sassy reply ( though they both knew Percy was no longer conscious to translate for them ). Tempest was nowhere to be seen—the lightning steed had evidently returned to wherever storm spirits live on clear days. 

               Piper checked Jason and Abilene, sighing quietly. “They’re breathing,” she admitted. 

               “Yeah, it’s a miracle after those kinds of hits,” replied Elisa. “C’mon, we need to get them back to the Argo. And tell the others about those eidolons—Leo’ll be relieved to know it wasn’t him who fired at New Rome.”

ˋˏ [👑 ] ˎˊ

Surprised was an understatement when Elisa and Piper returned with three unconscious demigods and a distressed pegasus. Frank and Hazel tended to Blackjack ( but Elisa didn’t fail to notice the suspicious glances Frank gave her and Piper after he spotted Abilene and the hoof-sized knot on her head ), while Annabeth and Leo helped Piper take the three unconscious demigods to the sick bay.

               With a twisted ankle and what quickly formed to be a pounding headache from her fight with Abilene, she was told only to bring herself to the sick bay. Elisa wasn’t happy with the command, but she complied. She knew fighting Annabeth on this wasn’t going to help—it would only take longer for her and the others to get checked out.

               Coach Hedge wasn’t happy—about the amount of ambrosia they were running through, but mostly for the fact he missed the fight. “At this rate, we’re going to run out of ambrosia,” he grumbled as he broke off a square piece to give to Elisa. “How come I never get invited on these violent trips?” 

               She rolled her eyes, nibbling on the small section. She tasted hints of Callum’s cinnamon swirl bread, and the only reason she stopped even after Piper offered her piece to Elisa was the fact she knew she would burn from the inside out if she didn’t. She would often forget how badly she missed Callum, the bakery he ran, and Albuquerque until she couldn’t—and this was a moment she couldn’t. 

               She shook her head, rattling the thoughts around, but grabbed the bottle of water Annabeth practically tossed at her head. “Leo,” she started, looking at the son of Hephaestus, “please tell me we’re ready to sail?” 

               His posture went rigid, his eyes scanning Elisa’s face worriedly. “Well … yeah, but—” 

               “Head for Atlanta. I’ll explain later.”

               Leo stared for a moment, taken aback. “I—but …” He looked at Piper, and she nodded to him. He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Okay.” He turned around and hurried out of the sick bay.

               Annabeth looked between Piper and Elisa, her lips pursed. She didn’t argue over Elisa’s decisions, moving over to examine the horseshoe-shaped dent on the back of Percy and Abilene’s heads. “What hit them?” she demanded. 

               Elisa took a sip of water, her eyes looking over the bottle and at Piper. “Blackjack,” she answered simply.

               Annabeth stared at her. “Blackjack?”

               The daughter of Aphrodite turned sheepish. “It was my idea …” she admitted, her voice far smaller than it had been when she charmspoke Blackjack into the attack. 

               Annabeth eyed the girl, her arms crossing over her chest. “Oh, really?”

               Piper tried to explain as Coach Hedge applied healing paste to Jason, Percy, and Abilene’s heads. Admittedly, Elisa had never been that impressed with Hedge’s nursing abilities before—but this time it seemed he did something right. Well, that—or Apollo took it upon himself to help heal those three quickly. Or, perhaps, the spirits that possessed them had also made them extra resilient. 

               Elisa could feel herself relax, the tenseness in her shoulders fading, as Percy groaned loudly. She even started to smile when his eyes cracked open and she saw sea-green instead of gold eyes. He groaned again, his hand reaching back to cradle the gradually receding dent in the back of his head. “Did I get hit by a car …?”

               “Horse,” Elisa simply corrected. “But close enough, I s’pose.”

               Percy glanced at her, his brain trying to comprehend. His brows furrowed for a few seconds, but he slowly smiled when he saw Elisa sitting in a chair beside his bed. “Hey,” he greeted. 

               “Yeah, nice to see you, too,” she replied, far happier to see him back to normal than what she was willing to say aloud. 

               Within a few minutes, Abilene, Jason, and Percy were all sitting up in their berths and able to talk in complete sentences—all good signs ( at least, from what little Elisa understood about healing ). All three of them still looked dazed, and they had fuzzy memories of it all, but otherwise, they seemed to be okay. When Piper and Elisa did their best to explain what happened after Bacchus disappeared, Jason winced.

               “Knocked out twice in two days,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Some demigod …” 

               “It wasn’t your fault, Jason,” Piper pointed out. 

               Jason gave the daughter of Aphrodite a weak smile. But he glanced sheepishly at Percy. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to blast you.” 

               Even with his orange T-shirt peppered with burn holes and his hair more disheveled than usual, Percy managed a soft laugh. “It’s nothing.” He waved his hand lazily, shrugging. “Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve been blasted with lightning. Thalia got me good once at Camp.”

               Elisa snorted to herself, having forgotten her first Capture the Flag game at Camp Half-Blood. As terrifying as it was in the moment, Percy and Thalia’s fight was funny looking back on it—with the stupid nicknames and standing opposite each other like some old Western film and all. Percy quickly snapped his eyes over to her when he heard her reaction. Instead of saying anything, he snatched the half-drunk water bottle out of her hands for himself. 

               Elisa opened her mouth to complain, but Jason sat forward and cut her off. “Yeah, but Percy … I could’ve killed you.”

               Percy shrugged, taking a swig of the water. “Or I could have killed you.”

               Jason shrugged. An inconspicuous act, but Elisa read it as Well … if you want to believe that. “If there’d been an ocean in Kansas, maybe—” 

               The son of Poseidon sat up rigidly, his expression twisting. “I don’t need an ocean—”

               “You’re both ridiculous,” snapped Elisa, standing up and grabbing the water back from her boyfriend. “It’s not a Let’s-see-who-can-kill-each-other-first fight.”

               Annabeth grinned amusedly, but Abilene looked guilty. Her blue eyes flickered down to Elisa’s wrapped ankle ( upon Piper’s insistence, because after the ambrosia, the wrap was practically pointless ). “Elisa, sorry about that …” She nodded to the wrap, but the daughter of Dionysus shrugged.

               “S’nothing,” she replied, though it didn’t feel like nothing in the moment her ankle twisted, her knees scraped, and she banged her head on the tarmac. “It was those eidolons, not you.”

               But Abilene still looked guilty, and part of Elisa wondered if some part of Abilene was aware—they had all said they had fuzzy memories, but Abilene seemed to be holding back her powers on the road. If she wanted, she could’ve sicked every strand of wheat on Elisa; sunflowers could’ve grown another twenty feet and swallowed her whole—but they didn’t. And the way Abilene moved around, the way her moves were more sluggish and her hands trembled, made Elisa feel that Abilene—somewhere in her body as the eidolon controlled her body—was fighting against the spirit. 

               The realization jarred Elisa. There was no doubt Abilene was powerful, she was Gaea’s mortal daughter, but to know she didn’t have worse injuries was all because Abilene fighting against the eidolon wasn’t exactly a warm, comforting feeling. What if she couldn’t fight back? What if she decided to fight with one day?

               She stood up, looking away from Abilene and to Percy and Jason. “Look, you guys just need rest, now—”

               Percy shook his head. “Food first,” he interrupted. “Please? And we really need to talk—about a lot. Bacchus said some things that don’t—” 

               Annabeth’s brows furrowed. “Bacchus?” she asked, looking at Elisa. 

               The daughter of Dionysus grimaced slightly. She really didn’t want to bring up Bacchus, but she also knew he had brought up some important information—the twin giants, Otis and Ephialtes. Instead of letting Elisa say anything, Annabeth only raised her hand and continued with; “Okay, fine—we need to talk. Mess hall. Ten minutes. I’ll tell the others. And, Percy … change your clothes. You smell like you’ve been run over by an electric horse.”

               “Geez, thanks …” the son of Poseidon murmured, leaning back in his berth. “Feel like it, too …”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Elisa wasn’t sure what to make of the situation when Abilene came knocking on the door to her cabin. It was clear Leo took inspiration from Cabin Twelve back at Camp for her cabin—the twin bed with a dark wood frame, the dark purple quilt with twirling vines woven within, and white walls with plenty of posters and photos stuck on. The only thing missing was Castor and Pollux, and even Drew barging in from the next-door cabin, Cabin 10.

               The daughter of Gaea looked none the worse after everything, perhaps a couple of scraps from her fight with Elisa; overall, however, fine. It was jarring—some of the few times Elisa had seen Abilene up close, her eyes had been this horrible golden color. And now, her eyes were back to what they were supposed to be—blue. She even gave Elisa an awkward smile instead of that looming sneer the eidolon plastered on her face for Abilene. 

               “Hey,” Elisa greeted, trying to unfurl her confused expression before it sent a worse message to Abilene.

               Abilene lips pursed as she smiled. “Hi.” She glanced down the hall, as if snooping to see if anyone else was walking around. “Look, Elisa, about—”

               “Don’t worry about it,” the daughter of Dionysus cut her off. She waved her hand, her shoulders shrugging lazily. “Besides, I should’ve known something was off. The cold feeling—I had felt it even before we sailed away from Camp Half-Blood—then I saw Leo’s face flash when we we’re eating—I should’ve known.”

               “So … do you what eidolons are?” Abilene asked.

               Elisa thought for a moment. Nico may have mentioned the eidolons once in passing, but that’s if he ever had. “Besides what Piper guessed and what the eidolons possessing you and Percy said … no, not really. I know they’re from the Underworld, possess people, make those people do their bidding, and cause you to feel cold chills when they’re nearby—beyond that, I have no idea.”

               “Oh.” The brunette shuffled on her feet. “I thought … since you’re Bacc—Dionysus’s daughter, that maybe you’d know about them—and how to get rid of them.”

               Elisa pursed her lips. “No, but maybe Annabeth knows. But they did seem to listen to charmspeak, but maybe that also had to do with Piper.” She shrugged. “I dunno, Abilene—but don’t worry about it.”

               The daughter of Gaea sighed quietly, tugging at the ends of her hair. “Yeah, I just wanted to say sorry about it. I wouldn’t have gone if—”

               “Then maybe the eidolons would’ve possessed me or Piper,” Elisa cut off, unsure if it was even possible. “Seriously—don’t worry about it. It wasn’t you in control, and I made it out without too many injuries.”

               She wasn’t sure why she was trying so hard to make Abilene feel better. Half of her didn’t even trust the brunette—not too much anyways, and especially not after being thrown through the air with a sunflower stem. And instead of leaving the conversation there, Abilene lingered for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. 

               “I …” She paused, the words dying on her tongue. “I also wanted to let you know I do have some memories of the fight, but not much.”

               Elisa’s brows furrowed. “Okay. Percy and Jason said the same thing …?” 

               The question was leading, and Abilene followed. The brunette paused, looking almost green in the face and as if she’d rather be anywhere but there. “I meant of what the eidolon—me?—said to you. When I—it was trying to kill you.”

               “Oh.” Elisa’s hand held the doorframe to her room. “Like what?”

               Abilene twirled one strand of hair around her pointer finger. “Something about … you being fearful. Scared.” She quickly glanced at Elisa, lickering her lips nervously. “But all the memories are really, really spotty—at best! And—and I won’t tell anyone, so—”

               “S’fine, Abilene,” Elisa cut her off. “I’m not gonna …” she shrugged, “curse you or anything. Besides, you hardly even remember.”

               “Yeah.” Abilene nodded. But there was some curiosity written across her face. “But … does the eidolon know what you’re afraid of?”

               Elisa stared for a moment, wondering just how much Abilene remembered. And is that what you’re so afraid of? was the last thing the eidolon that took over Abilene said to Elisa specifically. “I don’t know,” she replied instead, despite having her own ideas. “Probably not. I mean, madness is hard to explain, and … so is fear.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Leo gave the helm to Coach Hedge again, after making the satyr promise he would not steer them to the nearest military base “for fun.” The satyr was perfectly happy to take over the helm, but the demigods who knew him were a bit hesitant to leave him alone ( Hedge liked taking over things to make them “educational” and “fun,” clearly having trouble breaking the habit of his days at Wilderness School ).

               The nine demigods gathered around the dining table, and Piper took that chance to explain what had happened at TOPEKA 32—their conversation with Bacchus, the trap sprung by Gaea, the eidolons that had possessed Jason, Percy, and Abilene. 

               Once Piper had finished, Hazel gasped and slammed her hands on the table. “Of course!” she exclaimed loudly, which startled Frank so badly that he dropped his burrito; even Abilene stared at the daughter of Pluto, her eyes widening. “That’s what happened to Leo, too.” 

               Leo slumped in his chair, his arms resting on the table as he was clearly filled with relief. “So it wasn’t my fault,” he said. “I didn’t start World War Three. I just got possessed by an evil spirit!” But his eased smile faltered, and he let out a small sigh. “Oh … that’s not as relieving as I thought.” 

               “Not really,” Elisa bluntly reminded. “The Romans don’t know that—if they would even care at all anymore.”

               Jason leaned forward, his elbows pressed against the wood. “We could contact Reyna,” he suggested. “She would believe us.”

               Admittedly, Elisa and Delaney had started on a bad foot but after freeing Hera, they had managed to compromise. Now, most of their spats happened because they were too alike rather than being sworn enemies, fighting on opposite sides of the war. And Elisa knew if Percy had said anything like that about a girl who looked at him the way Reyna looked at Jason … she wouldn’t be happy. ( And that’s the simplest, least violent answer she could give. ) 

               “Would she, Jason?” she asked, her arms crossing over her chest. “You saw the way those Romans treated you when that eidolon took over Leo and attacked Camp Jupiter—you were Greek to them. No longer Roman. And frankly, I doubt they trust the other Romans on this ship who didn’t get shuffled off to a Greek demigod camp for half a year.”

               Even if Elisa stood behind her words, she regretted delivering them the way she did. Jason stared at her for a moment, his brows furrowing as his eyes flickered—like a sad storm cloud. He never said it aloud, but the son of Jupiter had so much hope for the day he would come back to the demigod camp he was raised in—and that hope shattered as those campers he had trained with turned against him and tried to trample him. She knew he had been struggling with the idea that they wouldn’t want him back; that a place he had spent his entire childhood would be able to move on, throwing him away so easily. 

               He sat back in his seat, his arms dropping from the table. His expression furrowed even more, his eyes scanning over the grooves of the table. He didn’t want to believe that Camp Jupiter could toss him away, and so, he held onto the hope that the one person he rose the ranks with couldn’t do that—Reyna. He glanced at Piper, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “You could convince her, Pipes. Reyna, I mean. I—I know you could.” 

               Piper shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands interlocked as she pulled on them anxiously. She had practically perfected her charmspeak over the months, feeling much more confident in her abilities, and that was the best thing someone could have behind them—confidence. But, now, she looked anything but. “I … could try,” she said halfheartedly. “But Octavian is the one we have to worry about. In my dagger blade, I saw him taking control of the Roman crowd. I’m not sure Reyna can stop him.”

               Jason started chewing on the inner part of his mouth. He always looked sad, part of Elisa wondered if it was who he was or if it had to do with getting kidnapped and losing all his memories ( that he had slowly been gaining back ), but now he looked even more downtrodden.

               “She’s right,” Frank said, nodding lightly. “This afternoon when we were scouting, we saw eagles again. They were a long way off, but closing fast. Octavian is on the warpath.” 

               “Like he’s always wanted,” remarked Abilene almost bitterly. Out of everyone there, she had the second-longest time at Camp Jupiter with three dark lines spaced evenly apart. Three years paled in comparison to Jason’s twelve, but three years she had dealt with Octavian ( and Elisa got the feeling she wouldn’t need three years to get to know that guy ). “Octavian—he’s always been looking for the chance to take all the power he can. And … if Reyna tells him he can’t do something, he’ll say that she’s gone soft—for some Greeks, no less.” She glanced at the demigods who had arrived on the Argo II. “Uh … no offense.”

               Hazel shuddered, twirling her fork around her plate. “Those eagles …” She shook her head. “It’s like they could smell us.” 

               “They can,” Jason answered bluntly, still staring at the table. “Roman eagles can hunt demigods by their magical scent even better than monsters can. This ship might conceal us somewhat, but not completely—not from them.” 

               Elisa stared at the walls—the virtual images of Camp Half-Blood flipping from screen to screen. Her heart ached when she saw the inside of the Big House, where her father and Chiron would sit at the fireplace, one reading a magazine and the other flipping over recently released scholarly textbooks. She had taken for granted that life—the life she had survived years on the streets for. 

               Leo drummed his fingers, and the constant sound was starting to irritate Elisa. “Great,” he muttered sarcastically, his tone dripping with it. “I should have installed a smoke screen that makes the ship smell—like—a … giant chicken nugget. Remind me to invent that, next time.” 

               Hazel frowned. She leaned forward slightly, her head tilted at the boy. “What is a chicken nugget?” 

               Leo stared at the daughter of Pluto. “Oh, man …” He shook his head in amazement. “That’s right. You’ve missed the last, like, seventy years. Well, my apprentice, a chicken nugget—” 

               “Doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupted, her voice sharp as she tried to guide the conversation to the important topics. “The point is, we’ll have a hard time explaining the truth to the Romans. Even if they believe us—” 

               “You’re right.” Jason leaned forward, and his tone was anything but enthusiastic about the truth. “We should just keep going. Once we’re over the Atlantic, we’ll be safe—at least from the legion.” 

               “How can you be sure?” Piper asked, her fingers anxiously drumming on crossed arms. “Why wouldn’t they follow us?” 

               Jason shook his head. “You heard Reyna talking about the ancient lands. They’re much too dangerous. Roman demigods have been forbidden to go there for generations. Even Octavian couldn’t get around that rule.” 

               Elisa pursed her lips. She wasn’t too sure about the Octavian part, but she had already burst Jason’s bubble one too many times publicly, so she decided against voicing her doubts. 

               Frank swallowed a bite of his food like it had turned to cardboard in his mouth. “So, if we go there …” 

               “We’ll be outlaws as well as traitors,” Jason confirmed, his voice as even as any voice could be. “Any Roman demigod would have the right to kill us on sight.” He took a deep breath, and his shoulders sagged as the weight of everything seemed to finally sink in—he was now an outlaw to the only home he’d ever known since childhood, until he found Camp Half-Blood. “But I wouldn’t worry about that. If we get across the Atlantic, they’ll give up on chasing us. They’ll assume that we’ll die in the Mediterranean—the Mare Nostrum.” 

               At the beginning of the conversation, Percy had been too preoccupied with his pizza; however, when Jason said that, Percy pointed a slice of pizza at the blond. “You, sir, are a ray of sunshine.” Every other demigod around the table swallowed nervously and looked pale from the overhead lights, Percy didn’t seem to notice. He continued to enjoy his pizza, casually leaning back in his chair next to Elisa. “So let’s plan ahead,” he started to suggest, “and make sure we don’t die. Mr. D—Bacchus—Eugh, do I have to call him Mr. B now?” From a sideways glance, Elisa glared at him; he quickly shrugged the look off. “Anyway, he mentioned the twins in Ella’s prophecy. Two giants. Otis and—uh—something that started with an F?” 

               “Ephialtes,” Elisa corrected with a short tone. “And it’s not an F it’s an E.”

               Percy shrugged. “I’m dyslexic. Give me a break, Grape Girl.”

               Annabeth frowned at her cup, her finger running along the rim of it. “Twin giants, like Piper saw in her blade … I remember a story about twin giants. They tried to reach Mount Olympus by piling up a bunch of mountains.” 

               Frank nearly choked. “Well, that’s great. Giants who can use mountains like building blocks. And you say Bacchus killed these guys with a pinecone on a stick?” 

               Elisa scowled. The slights against her father had been frustrating already, and now on an empty stomach that was too queasy from nerves to eat, she really was getting annoyed. “A thyrsus,” she snapped, practically hissing. “It’s not a fucking pinecone on a stick.”

               Jason watched her carefully, as if worried she was the one possessed by an eidolon. “I don’t think we can count on Bacchus this time,” he changed the topic abruptly. “He made it clear he wanted a tribute, and that he believed it to be something we couldn’t handle.”

               Leo frowned. “Even with Elisa there? I thought Dionysus had a soft spot for his kids?”

               Elisa sunk in her seat as apologetic eyes turned to her—Piper's and Abilene’s, especially. She didn’t need any pity. Bacchus having a bad reaction to her like she was some pestering allergy shouldn’t have been shocking—she was Greek and they were meeting his Roman equivalent. It was ridiculous to expect Bacchus to welcome a Greek demigod with open arms, especially the daughter of his Greek equivalent. 

               “It was Bacchus,” she said with a stale tone. “That’s the difference, Leo.”

               “Ah.” He nodded as if he understood, but as he looked around the table, he picked up on the sympathetic looks being thrown Elisa’s way. “... What’s the difference?”

               “The difference is that Bacchus didn’t like me as the daughter of his Greek form,” Elisa snapped. “Use your brain, Leo. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

               Silence fell around the table. Most of them avoided her eyes, especially Leo; however, Percy leaned back in his seat, his hand grabbing her’s from underneath the table. Annabeth sent Elisa an odd look—something mixed with disappointment for the reaction but pity for the situation; Elisa hated that look from her friend. The only sound came from above head, where Coach Hedge was singing Blow the Man Down, except his own version of it as he didn’t know the lyrics and made up his own.

               Elisa glared resentfully at her hardly-eaten plate of food. Piper had been so certain that Bacchus was supposed to help, and Elisa knew well that they couldn’t defeat giants without the help of a god. More importantly, the Fates loved their coincidences and full-circle moments. Bacchus had defeated the twin giants in the past, and they were the banes of both Bacchus and Dionysus. The twins and the God of Madness were intertwined, and most certainly would have a showdown again. But Bacchus had been insistent on this tribute … and what kind of tribute could a God of Madness want? Even Elisa didn’t know that answer ( especially for Bacchus ), and the unknown made her shiver. 

               But they had to get to Rom and find the twin giants. They—Elisa—had no other option but to find Nico. She couldn’t let him get hurt—or worse—because she failed him. And they needed to find the answers on how to reseal the Doors of Death. If they were meant to find the twin giants in Rome, the God of Wine surely had to be involved. All of it made Elisa’s stomach queasy, and she had half a mind to curse her mother for the weak stomach—she felt like she was always motion sick. She felt as if there were a million things they had to do, and that they had absolutely no time to do it.

               The blood of a female demigod, Gaea had said, and the blood of a male. Perhaps madness’s daughter has an opinion. The thought of the voice made Elisa shudder. If she understood what she thinks Gaea meant, then …

               “She wants two of us,” Piper blurted, her voice hardly above a murmur. 

               Everyone turned to look at Aphrodite's daughter, and Piper shifted under sudden attention. “Today on the highway,” Piper started, awkwardly glancing from one demigod to the next, “Gaea said that she needed the blood of only two demigods—one female, one male.” She looked at Elisa, who felt chills run down her back. “She told Elisa to choose, or that Gaea will.”

               Abilene suddenly looked green in the face. She always shifted nervously when Gaea was brought up, but now, she looked ready to kneel over and hurl. Elisa didn’t feel too different, either. “She wanted me to choose which one would die,” she said, her voice quieter than normal. She ran her finger along the grooves of the table. “That if I didn’t, she would.”

               Percy squeezed her hand. “Hey, none of us died. So, it’s okay.”

               “Yeah, sure,” Elisa agreed, but her heart wasn’t in it. “But … it’s strange. Why would she say it? Why even act like she was giving me a choice at all? And what does it mean?”

               Leo leaned forward with a sudden interest. “Guys,” he tapped Piper on the arm, looking between Jason and Elisa, “remember at the Wolf House? Our favorite ice princess, Khione? She talked about spilling Jason’s blood, how it would taint the place for generations. Maybe demigod blood has some kind of power.” 

               Leo’s words caused a revelation to spread across Percy’s face. He heaved a sigh, sitting back in his chair. He squeezed Elisa’s hand tighter, his nails starting to dig into her skin slightly. “Oh …” he breathed out, staring into nothing, as if the horse kick to the head finally just registered. 

               Elisa frowned. “Percy?”

               “Oh, bad,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Bad. Bad.” He looked across the table at Frank, Abilene, and Hazel. “You guys remember Polybotes?” 

               Hazel’s face twisted. “The giant who invaded Camp Jupiter? The anti-Poseidon you whacked in the head with a Terminus statue? Yes, I think I remember.” 

               “Oh, yes,” added Frank. “How could we forget?”

               “I had a dream,” Percy said, ignoring the sarcasm from both, “when we were flying to Alaska. Polybotes was talking to the gorgons, and he said—he said he wanted me taken prisoner, not killed. He said: ‘I want that one chained at my feet, so I can kill him when the time is ripe. His blood shall water the stones of Mount Olympus and wake Earth Mother’ … or something like that.” 

               “Or something like that?” Elisa scowled, staring at her boyfriend with a look of disbelief. You either remembered something like that completely or you didn’t, and she felt that she would remember if someone said they wanted to keep her chained at their feet. She sighed, a headache starting to form again. “So, you think the giants want to use our blood, the blood of two of us—”

               “I don’t know,” Percy admitted. “But until we figure it out, I suggest we all try to avoid getting captured.” 

               Jason scoffed softly. “That I agree with.” 

               “But how do we figure it out?” Hazel asked, looking around the table. “The Mark of Athena, the twins, Ella’s prophecy—How does it all fit together?” 

               Annabeth pressed her hands against the edge of the table, turning to the daughter of madness. “Elisa, you told Leo to set our course for Atlanta.” 

               “Yeah.” Elisa nodded. “Bacchus told us we should seek out—” 

               “Phorcys,” Percy said.

               Annabeth looked surprised Percy had the answer. “You know him?” 

               “I didn’t recognize the name at first,” he admitted with a shrug. “Then Bacchus mentioned salt water, and it rang a bell. Phorcys is an old sea god from before my dad’s time. Never met him, but supposedly he’s a son of Gaea. I still don’t understand what a sea god would be doing in Atlanta.”

               Leo snorted through his nose. “What’s the Wine God doing in Kansas? Gods are weird. Anyway, we should reach Atlanta by noon tomorrow, unless something else goes wrong.”

               “Don’t even say that,” Annabeth muttered, rubbing at her eyebrows with a tired expression. “It’s getting late. We should all get some sleep.” 

               The idea of sleep sounded amazing to Elisa. She was the first to stand up, but before she could leave, Piper blurted: “Wait.”

               Everyone froze at once, all eyes moving to look at the girl. Elisa frowned, her hands resting on the table as she was halfway to standing up. “What?” asked Elisa.

               Piper looked anxiously around the rest of the table. Her hands gripped the edge so hard her knuckles were turning a couple of shades lighter. “There’s one last thing,” she started, licking her lips. “The eidolons—the possessing spirits. They’re still here, in this room.”

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter ten

━━ PIPER KNEW THE eidolons were still there, but, admittedly, she wasn’t sure how she knew. When she was younger, the stories of phantoms and tortured souls always freaked her out. Even now, at fifteen, they still do. Her dad, Tristan, used to joke about Grandpa Tom’s Cherokee legends way back when they still lived in Oklahoma; however, even when she and her father lived in that big mansion in Malibu years later, the stories of ghosts and restless spirits her father would tell scared her. She could never quite get those tales out of her head. She was always so paranoid afterward; she felt like she had eyes on her.

               From what Grandpa Tom and her dad told her, many Cherokee spirits were restless. The spirits often ended up losing their way to the Land of the Dead, or sometimes, they stayed behind with the living out of sheer stubbornness. Some spirits didn’t even realize they were dead. The more she learned about the world that was hidden behind the Mist, the more convinced Piper became of one thing: Cherokee legends and Greek myths weren’t all so that different. And these eidolons acted a lot like those restless spirits from her dad’s stories.

               She knew. In the pit of her stomach, she knew—a dense tug from the navel that just told her. These eidolons weren’t gone because no one has told them to leave. It was that simple.

               The sudden silence around the table made Piper’s confidence falter at an alarming rate. She licked her lips, swallowing nervously. She had been so sure, but now, with eight pairs of eyes ( or more ) on her, any confidence she felt in the statement was wilting away right before her eyes. She looked at Elisa—the daughter of Dionysus stared back, halfway out of her seat, her hands braced on the table as she paused from getting up. Her dark eyebrows pinched together deeply as her head turned to the left ever so slightly. Elisa said she could feel the eidolons before, even if she didn’t know what they were at the time. Quickly, Elisa’s eyes flickered from Percy, Leo, Abilene, Jason, and then back to Piper. Even something so small and inconspicuous, it was the confirmation Piper needed—Elisa also believed that the eidolons were still there.

               Piper’s posture straightened in her seat and she leaned forward, closer to the other eight demigods around. She started explaining her gut feeling to them all—the chill down her spine that the eidolons were still present. The more she spoke, the more uncomfortable the others became. Up on deck, ever so slightly, she could hear Hedge singing something that sounded like In the Navy all the while Blackjack stomped his hooves, whinnying in ( justified ) protest. 

               In the end, after a tense moment of silence among the nine, Hazel took a deep breath and loudly exhaled it. Her shoulders sagged slightly in her chair. “Piper is right,” she decided.

               Annabeth frowned, tilting her head at the daughter of Pluto. “How can you be sure?”

               “I’ve met eidolons,” murmured Hazel, her freakishly gold eyes glancing around the table nervously. “In the Underworld, when I was …” she trailed her finger in a circle on the wooden table slowly,  “you know.” 

               For a brief moment, Piper frowned. Then the next moment, her jaw fell slightly as she remembered—dead. Hazel used to be dead. In her own way, the daughter of Pluto too was a ghost reborn. It was eerily fitting.

               “So …” Frank rubbed his hand across his buzz-cut hair as if some ghosts might have invaded his scalp. He kept glancing at Abilene worriedly, but Piper couldn’t tell if he was afraid of or for her. ( Or how much it was of both. ) “You think these things are lurking on the ship, or—?” 

               “Possibly lurking inside some of us,” Piper said. She shrugged. “We don’t know.” 

               Jason stared at the table, his brows knitted together. One hand clenched into a fist, his nails digging into the skin on his palm. “If that’s true—” 

               Piper started quickly; “We have to take steps.” She glanced at Elisa, who had silently sat back down in her seat by now. “I … I think I can do this.” 

               Percy glanced from his girlfriend to Piper, his eyebrows slowly raising. “Uh … do what?”

               “Just … listen, okay?” she asked him. She straightened in her seat, taking a deep breath. “Everybody, listen.” She kept her hands carefully placed in her lap, her fingers treaded nervously together. If she messed this up, it was all on her. No one else could help her this time. But it also meant using charmspeak on her friends—she hated doing it. It was wrong, and she felt horrible for doing it. Her powers turned people compliant, giving them no room for their own thoughts and feelings.

               She swallowed harshly, meeting one person’s eyes at a time—all eight of them. “Eidolons,” she said, pouring everything she could into her charmspeak, “raise your hands.” 

               The charmspeak seemed to wash over the table in a tense wave. Piper had been told—and had seen—the power so strong that it could see it with the naked eye. She was certain that she would never become that powerful, but still, some part of her had hope—at least for moments like this. Where she could be certain that what she was doing was right, and that it was helpful. The tense silence lingered and Piper’s stomach churned. 

               Suddenly, Leo laughed nervously; it was a nervous habit of his. He glanced at the others. “Uh … d’you really think that was going to—?” 

               He never got to finish his sentence. His face went slack, and the fork slipped out between his fingers and clattered loudly on the plate. To Piper’s horror, Leo raised his hand silently and slowly. It was eerily methodical for a guy who was normally bouncing off the walls. To Piper’s horror, Jason, Percy, and Abilene soon slowly raised their hands. Their eyes had become glassy and gold in color; so unlike what she knew their eyes to be normally. Hazel’s breath became caught in her throat, and in the suffocating silence surrounding the table, that was the loudest sound known to man. 

               With a horrified expression, Frank leaned away from Abilene, his chair loudly scooting across the floor. “Gods …” he whispered, moving to wave a hand in front of the brunette’s face. It didn’t break the trace Abilene was under from the eidolon.

               Annabeth looked at Piper imploringly. “Can you cure them?”

               Elisa’s eyes were hard as she looked from her boyfriend, then to Leo, Jason, and then Abilene. “We have to.” It was a statement; a demand. Not a wish, not a question, nor was it an expectancy. Piper didn’t think it was possible, but her stomach twisted into an even worse knot. Her friends were relying on her; her best friends—Leo, Elisa, and Jason ( and Delaney would kill Piper if Jason stayed possessed by the eidolons ). 

               Piper took another deep breath, moving her eyes to look at Leo. He was the least intimidating of the four controlled. “Are there more of you on this ship?” she demanded, her voice laced with charmspeak.

               “No,” Leo replied in a hollow voice. It was a voice that didn’t belong to him; it was a voice so unlike the Leo Piper knew and cherished. This voice held nothing she treasured about Leo—no joy, no laughter. “The Earth Mother sent four. The strongest, the best. We will live again.” 

               She found herself becoming angry as she heard the spirit’s voice within Leo. “Not here, you won’t,” she snapped, fury mixing with the charmspeak. “All four of you, listen carefully.”

               Abilene, Jason, and Percy turned toward her. Those gold eyes were unnerving, but seeing those four like this—so emotionless and out of control with their own bodies—fueled Piper’s anger. “You will leave those bodies,” she commanded. 

               “No,” Percy sneered.

               Abilene let out a soft hiss that sounded so odd coming from her with everything Piper knew about the girl. “We must live.” 

               Frank’s eyes widened quickly as his chair moved farther away. “Mars Almighty, that’s creepy! Get out of here, spirits! Leave Abi and our friends alone!” 

               Leo turned to face him. “You cannot command us, Child of War. Your own life is fragile. Your soul could burn at any moment.” 

               Piper didn’t know what the eidolon meant, but Frank grew pale and his mouth started moving silently like a fish out of water. By his reaction—fumbling for his bow laying against his chair—the eidolon possessing Leo had struck a nerve. Frank struggled to draw an arrow, his hands and breathing shaking. “I—I’ve faced down worse things than you. If you want a fight—” 

               “Frank—” Hazel stood up, holding out a hand to him. “Don’t.”

               Next to the daughter of Pluto, Jason made it to his feet, his dominant hand drawing out his golden sword.

               Panic seized Piper by the throat, making it even harder to breathe. “Wait, stop!” she ordered, her voice quivering. She was rapidly losing faith in her plan. She’d made the eidolons appear, but what now? If she couldn’t persuade them to leave, any and all bloodshed would be her fault. She swore, from the back of her mind, she could hear Gaea laughing.

               For a long, silent moment, Hazel stared at Frank. Some silent understanding passed between them, and then the daughter of Pluto turned to Jason slowly and steadily. Hazel pointed to Piper, and the blond’s golden eyes looked at her. “Listen to Piper,” Hazel ordered, now pointing at Jason’s sword. The gold blade seemed to grow heavy in his hand and—Clunk! The weapon dropped to the floor and Jason sank back into his chair, all to Piper’s shock.

               Percy growled in a very un-Percy-like way. “Daughter of Pluto, you may control gems and metals. You do not control the dead.” 

               The hand Elisa had on the table twitched, as if she was thinking about reaching out and grabbing her boyfriend. Before she could move, Hazel held out a hand to her. “Listen, eidolons,” she said sternly, “you do not belong here. I may not command you, but Piper does. Obey her.” She turned toward Piper, and her expression was clear: Try again. You can do this. 

               Piper found herself incredibly grateful for the daughter of Pluto. She pursed her lips, trying to internally gather all of the courage she could. “You will leave those bodies,” she repeated with even more force than before.

               Jason’s face tightened. His forehead was beaded with sweat and his shoulders visibly became tensed. “We—we will leave these bodies.” 

               “You will vow on the River Styx never to return to this ship,” the daughter of Aphrodite continued, “and never to possess any member of this crew.” 

               There was a collective hiss from the four, and it made Piper’s glower harden. “You will promise on the River Styx,” she insisted, pouring everything she could into the charmspeak. There was no way they would be able to say No ( she hoped ).

               A tense moment of tension—she could feel their wills fighting against hers. They, the eidolons, were trying to fight. Then, all four eidolons spoke in unison: “We promise on the River Styx.”

               “You are dead,” Piper said. 

               “We are dead,” they agreed. 

               “Now, leave.” 

               At the command, all four of them slumped forward. Percy fell face-first into his pizza and Elisa winced. The thud! was muffled by layers of pepperonis, cheese, and tomato sauce. She reached for him, but his indistinct grumbles told Elisa that she was too late. Faintly, the daughter of Dionysus looked a bit amused; her lips twitched as a deep dimple appeared and vanished beside her mouth.

               Piper and Hazel caught Jason’s arms as he slipped out of his chair. Frank hurried forward to grab Abilene by the shoulders before her face slammed into her chicken sandwich. She slumped back into her chair, her face twisted as she let out a dazed “Ugh …”

               Leo, however, wasn’t so lucky. He fell towards Frank and Abilene, but the son of Mars made no move to help Leo ( even though Abilene was completely okay and in her chair safely ). There was a loud thud! as Leo’s arm hit a plate of spaghetti, and then his whole body slammed into the floor, and hard.

               “Ow!”

               Hazel winced, leaning over the son of Hephaestus. “Are you all right?” she asked. 

               Leo pulled himself up, his legs tucking underneath himself. He had a piece of spaghetti in the shape of a 3 stuck to his forehead. “Did it work?” He looked around at everybody, and Elisa made a motion of picking something off her own forehead to him. Quickly, Leo swiped at his forehead, flicking the noddle off.

               “It worked.” Piper nodded to her friend, hoping her gut feeling was correct. “I don’t think they’ll be back.” 

               Jason blinked. “Does that mean I can stop getting head injuries now?” 

               Piper laughed, the action exhaling all of the nervousness that had been tumbling around her stomach. “C’mon, Jason. Let’s get you some fresh air.” 

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Being alone with the demigods she had saved Hera with for the first time in a while made Piper realize how much she missed them. And with Delaney back at Camp Half-Blood, Piper really missed those six months. Part of her even missed the quest to save Hera—but not by much. If anything, she really missed her naivety—about demigods, the Greek ( and add Roman, too ) gods, the giants and Gaea, and the every-looming Giants–Gods war.

               After the fiasco in the mess hall, the four had gathered on the quarterdeck. In a group where it felt as though they couldn’t be further from working together, Piper was grateful to be with people she knew she could trust—with her life, at that.

               Leo stood at the helm, conferring with Festus through the intercom. Since the satellite TV was up again, Coach Hedge was back in his cabin, happily catching up on his mixed martial arts cage matches. Percy’s pegasus, Blackjack, had flown off somewhere; the other demigods were settling in for the night. Jason, still wobbly after everything, leaned against some of the computers Leo had put at the helm. Piper saw Leo frown at the son of Jupiter, but instead of fussing, Leo turned away. Part of Piper wondered if Leo still felt too guilty for the eidolon controlling him to fire on New Rome to fuss at Jason. Camp Jupiter and New Rome had been Jason’s home for twelve, long years, after all.

               The Argo II was racing eastward. The Greek trireme was cruising several hundred feet above the ground. Below them, small towns passed by like tiny, lit-up islands in a dark sea of prairie. The night was warm, and the ship sailed more smoothly than an old, bronze dragon. ( Piper knew from experience. ) She remembered last winter—flying Festus the dragon over the city of Quebec with her friends tagging along for the ride. She had never seen anything so beautiful, or felt so optimistic to finally have a group of people to call friends—in that same breath, she had never felt so terrified of said group learning of the secret she kept at the time and wanting nothing to do with her for lying to them.

               By all intent and purpose, Piper had stumbled her way into these friendships—sort of. In one way, she had stumbled; in another way, it could be chalked up to the Fates; in a third way, it could be up to Hera’s prying fingers that Piper had this group of friends she could fall back on. But she didn’t want to just chalk it up to accident, fate, or Hera ( especially not Hera ). It didn’t seem fair to chalk up friendships that were created and weathered the quest to save Hera to anything but the demigods in the friendships. They had all done what seemed impossible, and done it together.

               If Piper had been with a different set of people flying towards the ancient lands, she would’ve been nervous. Part of her still was, but she had survived bad things with these three already—they could do it again. Only she hoped that Jason was right when he said Romans wouldn’t follow them across the Atlantic. 

               Elisa was poking at some of the computers Leo had welded to be a part of the helm. Leo swatted at her hand with the Wii joystick, and she frowned back at him. 

               “Do that again, Elf Ears, and I’ll twist your nose a hundred and eighty degrees.”

               Leo rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, what-ever—”

               Piper cut him off; “How’s your ankle, Elisa?”

               The daughter of Dionysus looked at her, but she shrugged, her arms crossing over her chest. “S’fine. I don’t even need the wrap. The ambrosia healed it just fine.”

               Piper looked at Jason and Leo. “You guys?”

               Silently, Leo looked at the son of Jupiter, and Jason got the hint—he was to answer first. He adjusted his lean against the computers, shrugging his shoulders as his arms crossed. “I have a small headache,” he admitted, “but … I guess that’s to be expected after how many times I’ve been knocked in the head recently.”

               Elisa grinned slightly. In the moonlight, Piper swore her hair had hints of blue, even though it’s been years since her hair was ( according to her sister Drew and some dated photographs ). “At least it wasn’t a pegasus’s hoof, just a brick, the asphalt, and some possession.”

               “Oh, yeah …” Jason nodded sarcastically. “I feel so grateful.”

               “I’m glad it’s just me in this body once again,” Leo spoke up. He placed one hand on his chest very dramatically. “Now that I know that eidolon was in here … feels weird.”

               Elisa shook her head lightly. “The eidolon wasn’t in your body, it was controlling your mind, Leo.”

               “It still feels weird!”

               Jason smiled at Piper, and in the moonlight, his blond hair looked silver. “Thanks, Pipes,” he started. “You saved us—again.” 

               Admittedly, it had been weird to not like Jason; to not want anything more than friendship with him—at least, in the beginning. Now, Piper couldn’t see him in any other light than a friend. It was easy being friends with him, far easier than trying to be more than friends, that’s for sure. ( Though, Piper often had to remind herself that the memories she had of Jason back in Wildnerness weren’t real, no matter how real they felt—it often ended up alleviating a lot of this weird guilt she held towards Delaney. )

               Piper sighed and planted herself beside Elisa, shoulder to shoulder. “I don't know if Percy will trust me anymore,” she admitted aloud, an odd worry she hadn’t put much thought into until that very moment. “Not after I let his horse knock him out.” 

               Elisa suddenly snorted, and very loudly. “Don’t even worry about that,” she snickered. “If anything, he’s gonna get more shit from Blackjack. That’s who he’s gonna hold it against.”

               Jason grinned lightly as he looked out to the rest of the top deck. “Besides, I get the feeling he needs a knock on the head every once in a while.” 

               “Okay, hey—that’s still my boyfriend we’re talking about here!”

               Piper wasn’t sharing any of their amusement. She frowned down at her feet, her body and mind still on edge from the attack in the sunflower field. “You could have killed him,” she stated. She looked back up, locking eyes with Jason. “You could’ve.” 

               The air became tense around the four. Piper cursed herself in her head for what she said. This was her fault.

               Jason’s smile dropped. “That wasn’t me.” 

               “I—I know,” Piper quickly assured. She wanted to apologize, and take back everything she said moments ago. She should’ve just let them continue joking around, it would’ve been easier. But when she looked between the others, she knew she had opened a door she couldn’t just close. “It’s just … During the fight, Gaea was talking to you, Elisa—”

               “She wanted me to choose,” Elisa interrupted Piper. Her arms crossed over her chest, a makeshift shield. “Yeah, I remember.”

               Piper hesitated, watching Elisa closely. She was always reserved with her emotions, but that doesn’t mean she hid them well. She took a breath, steeling her nerves. “Well … it seems like two of our crew are going to die—or have to die. A boy and a girl—”

               Jason cut her off; “I don’t accept that.” He shook his head, and his voice was incredibly stern and laced with determination, as if he were speaking to the Roman legion once again. “We’re going to stop Gaea. All nine of us are going to come back alive. I promise you.”

               Piper frowned at him. The word promise made her incredibly uneasy. It only reminded her of a line in the Prophecy of Nine: An oath to keep with a final breath. Promises and oaths weren’t that different, and Piper didn’t want Jason to keep a promise with his death—she didn’t want any of these three to do that. She didn’t want to lose anyone on this ship, even the ones she had only just met; they were all brave, good people.

               Another thought crossed Piper’s mind and she blurted it out; “The legend that Annabeth mentioned, about the Mark of Athena …” Her eyes focused on Jason, making Elisa and Leo look at him, too. “Why didn’t you want to talk about it?”

               It was obvious Leo was curious, too. His head perked up, his interest was piqued tremendously. Jason’s expression turned grim and cagey under Piper’s pointed questions and Leo’s awaiting eyes. They all knew Jason had the answers—or, at least, some of them. Even Elisa had to know something. Piper noticed all the glances she exchanged with Annabeth after the Mark of Athena was brought up.

               Jason sighed loudly, as if he had been expecting the question. “Pipes, I … I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. That legend … It could be really dangerous.” 

               “For who?” asked Leo, frowning.

               “All of us,” Jason replied, his voice was heavy with grim and dread. “The story goes that the Romans stole something important from the Greeks, back in ancient times when the Romans conquered the Greeks’ cities.” 

               Silence settled among Piper, Leo, and Elisa as they waited for him to say more, however, Jason seemed to have become lost in thought. That sad look in his eyes seemed to grow tenfold.

               Leo quickly glanced at Piper and Elisa. “I’m gonna guess the Romans didn’t just steal the Greeks' favorite—like—toys, did they?”

               “Leo, be serious,” Elisa snapped quickly.

               “I am.”

               “I don’t know,” Jason admitted. However, he frowned and looked up, quickly backtracking; “I mean, not toys. I mean …” He shrugged. “I don’t know what was stolen. I’m not sure anyone in the legion has ever known. But according to the story, this thing was taken away to Rome and hidden there. The children of Athena, Greek demigods, have hated us ever since. They’ve always stirred up their brethren against the Romans. Like I said, I don’t know how much of that is true—”

               “But why not just tell Annabeth?” Piper asked. “She’s not going to suddenly hate you.”

               “You need to tell Annabeth, Jason.” Elisa nodded. 

               However, Jason didn’t look convinced. “I’m not worried about her hating me. But the legend says that the children of Athena have been searching for this thing for millennia. Every generation, a few are chosen by the goddess to find it. Apparently, they’re led to Rome by some sign … the Mark of Athena.” 

               “We should help Annabeth if she’s one of them,” said Leo. He looked at Piper and Elisa, expecting them to fervently agree. His frown deepened when Jason didn’t nod. “Shouldn’t we? If Annabeth is one of those searchers, and with what you know … we should help her.”

               Jason hesitated for a long moment. “... Maybe” he finally replied. At his hesitance, the others frowned deeply. So Jason added; When we get closer to Rome, I’ll tell her what little I know. Honest. But the story, at least the way I heard it—it claims that if the Greeks ever found what was stolen, they’d never forgive us. The Romans, I mean. They’d destroy the legion and Rome, once and for all. After what Nemesis told Leo, about Rome’s being destroyed five days from now …” 

               An uncomfortable silence fell among the four. Piper studied Jason’s face. For as long as she knew him, and him not the fabricated Mist memories, he had always been so brave and strong; he was rigid with discipline, always doing the right thing because that’s all he knew. He was a leader, and he was a fighter. He shouldered so much responsibility, oftentimes in the name of his friends, and all the while, he made it seem like it was never a problem. But this legend—the idea that it might tear apart their group and level a city—absolutely terrified Jason Grace. 

               Piper wondered what could have been stolen from the Greeks that would be so important. She couldn’t imagine anything that would make Annabeth suddenly turn vengeful. Then again, Piper couldn’t imagine choosing one demigod’s life over another, and today on that deserted road, just for a moment, she had a split second where she almost chose for Elisa.

               Elisa was the one to break the silence next; “Come on, you guys. We need to get some sleep. I have a strong feeling it’s not gonna get any easier from here on out.”

               “Oh. Well.” Leo rolled his eyes, standing up to his full height. “Thank you for your optimism, Lisa.”

               “It’s not optimism, it’s honesty.”

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter eleven

━━ PERCY DREAMT THAT he was drowning. It was a horrible dream. It confused him, and it terrified him—he, Percy, was the son of Poseidon, and that made him immune to drowning. Still, that fear was real; the anxiety was palpable in this dream. It was this pounding against his chest; his heart was beating so hard, it felt the beats in his ribs—this was his pure desperation, his absolute fear epitomizing in a physical sense. 

               It was like he was back in Alaska all over again, making the very simple mistake of one wrong step—then, he was back in the freezing muskeg all over again. The desperation for air was clawing at his chest and throat, now. All the muscles in his body screamed as the cold of the muskeg swallowed him, and he soon found himself choking—the air in his lungs and the mud surrounding him fighting for room in his mouth, nose, and throat. He felt like he was back in Alaska, but this time he was completely alone—no Frank, no Hazel, and no Abilene to put their lives on the line to pull him out of the muskeg.

               For the first time in his life, he understood the fear of drowning.

               It’s just a dream, he tried to convince himself. I’ll wake up. He was just dreaming, and eventually, the sun would rise again and he would wake up. He would be fine. There would be no muskeg. He would be in his room, on the Argo II, flying across the Atlantic Ocean.

               But that reassurance ( that didn’t feel like reassurance ) didn’t make him any less scared.

               His mind was growing hazy, and his vision was becoming spotty with faint star-like impressions along his eyes and heavy mud covering his face. He resisted and fought against the muskeg that was slowly dragging him down—it was a losing battle. His body felt frozen, and he found it impossible to move his limbs, any of his limbs. He was stuck, and none of his friends were there to pull him out; Abilene wasn’t here to risk her life to save his life. 

               He was soon learning that muskeg was far thicker than water was. Water was fluid. It could be many things—gentle, rushing, or completely turbulent. Percy never feared water, if anything, it comforted him. It was his father’s element, after all. Percy could control water; he could make it gentle, rushing, or completely turbulent. But ever since the muskeg in Alaska, he had developed a fear of suffocation. To be completely surrounded by a substance that he couldn’t control, let alone even move through like water, petrified him. It grounded him in a way Percy never thought imaginable.

               The muskeg pressed against his chest. He felt as if his arms were becoming pinned to his sides. His lungs wanted to burst, and Percy knew gasping for air would only worsen it—but every innate human instinct screamed at him to gasp for air. He forced his hands through the cold muskeg, looking for anything above his head he could grab ahold of.

               He found nothing above him.

               For a horrible moment, Percy genuinely thought he was dead. That the son of Poseidon had found a way to drown.

               Stop panicking, he told himself. The muskeg wasn’t real. It was a dream. He forced himself to breathe, feeling the rise and fall of his chest like his ribs were cracking. This isn’t real, he tried to rationalize. It’s just a nightmare.

               He didn’t know if it was the reassurance or the fact he felt as if his lungs were going to burst, but whatever it was, his dream shifted. It changed from muskeg, and Percy didn’t even care where he was now—just as long as his feet were on solid ground. Just as long as he could see the space around him, no longer concealed by the brown bog from Alaska. He would never admit it, not to anyone; he couldn’t ever admit it. What would everyone think of the son of Poseidon, the God of the Sea, who was nervous to go out into water? He was one of the nine, he was supposed to be one of the nine that would save the humans from Gaea. How could he save the world when he feared the one thing he had controlled since he was twelve? Even before he was twelve, just unknowingly. For years, Percy had used his powers—of the ocean, of water—to protect himself and his loved ones. He had fallen into rivers, plummeted from great heights no other person would’ve been able to survive, he had breathed underwater, and healed wounds that would’ve killed him otherwise—all with water. He didn’t understand how he was so afraid of something he used to find so much comfort in.

               He could never admit the fear—hardly even to himself, let alone anyone else. They were counting on him. The moment he admitted he was scared … that was the moment those ridiculous fears would begin to control him. He had seen others become controlled by their fears. He knew better than anyone what it was like to let fear control you—instead of you who would be the one making decisions, it was your irrational fears that were deciding. He thought about Thalia, who was terrified of heights even though her father was Zeus, the God of the Sky. Her brother, Jason, could control the winds—he could fly just by summoning the winds. Thalia couldn’t, maybe not because she just couldn’t harness the wind, but because she had never tried—all because the fear of heights controlled her better than she could control the winds. If Percy was terrified of drowning, then he would start to believe that the next time he was submerged underwater he wouldn’t be able to breathe …

               He forced himself to breathe—a large intake of air through his nose, holding it in his chest for a few seconds, and then exhaling the air through his mouth. It was a dream, and even if it hadn’t been, he wasn’t in any sort of water. He wasn’t in muskeg anymore—no, now he was in a vast, gloomy room. It was a long stretch of these grey, concrete walls sprawling out before him on either side, like he was standing in some sort of underground parking lot. There were rows and rows of stone pillars, parching off in every direction he looked, and they were holding up a ceiling twenty feet above his head. In between the pillars were freestanding braziers—the flames flickering in them turned the surrounding area into this dusty red color. In the hazy, red light, he could just faintly see—above him was a pulley system hanging from the tall ceiling, it was sandbags and rows of dark theater lights strung up.

               Percy could breathe now, but he could hardly find it within himself to move. But if this was to end—this dream was to end—then he had to. He did his best to steel his nerves, but his legs felt weak as he stepped forward. The room echoed horribly, and just enough, he could hear the whirring and creaking of machinery in the dark distance—these huge gears turning over and over, and the sound of water rushing through large pipes. Despite all that faint noise, the crackling of the braziers was nearly deafening. The columns looked old to him, they weren’t modern the way parking structures would be built. ( Then he had the sinking realization that Annabeth had too much effect on him. Here he was, analyzing some concrete pillars …. ) Eventually, he reached a group of boxes that were piled in the chamber. They were wooden crates labeled, and it took him a few moments, but he made out the words: PROPS, WEAPONS, and COSTUMES. In a smaller pile next to the others, another box read: ASSORTED ROCKET LAUNCHERS. 

               Comforting.

               He glanced away from the piles of boxes—and that’s when he saw the giant. ( Or that was his best guess at a giant. )

               The monster was about twelve feet tall. That height compared to humans was formidable, however, that paled in comparison to the other giants Percy had come across—twelve feet was only half the height of the other giants Percy had dealt with. His skin crawled as he remembered Polybotes, the bane of Poseidon. That giant had towered over Percy, to the point he was only a speck compared to that giant. This giant seemed like nothing in comparison, and he didn’t even have a dragon-scaled leg like Polybotes. Nevertheless, this giant had long, purple hair that was braided into a messy ponytail at the back of his head, and the hair was woven with gold and silver coins that glinted just enough from the braziers’ flames. He wore a large, black turtleneck that hugged the giant’s neck, chest, and shoulders, with black pants along with black leather shoes that pointed at the end and curled—like gigantic jester slippers. Strapped to his back was a ten-foot spear that glinted dangerously.

               The giant was pacing back and forth in front of a raised platform. He was examining a bronze hair that was as tall as Percy. He didn’t need to be a genius in giant-ology to know that this giant wasn’t happy. “No, no, no … Where’s the splash? Where’s the value?” He stopped on his leather-pointed shoes, staring into the darkness behind the platform. “Otis!”

               Percy heard Otis before he saw him, but it wasn’t very hard to see Otis once he emerged from the darkness. He quickly realized that Otis was another giant. For a brief moment, he thought he was seeing double—the same, ugly squashed face, the duplicated black outfit, even right down to the curl of the jester slippers. The only difference was that Otis’s braids were this nasty green color, instead of the other’s purple.

               At the sight of Otis, the other giant cursed loudly. “Otis, why do you do this every day? I told you I was wearing the black turtleneck today. You could wear anything but the black turtleneck!”

               Otis blinked as if he’d just woken up. “I thought you were wearing the yellow toga today.” 

               “That was yesterday! When you showed up in the yellow toga!” 

               “Oh. Right.” Otis shrugged, though he didn't look particularly guilty. “Sorry, Ephie.” 

               Otis’s apparent lack of care made the other giant snarl, his yellow teeth baring at Otis. These two giants had to be brothers—twins, even. Their faces were identically ugly. 

               “And don’t call me Ephie. Call me Ephialtes. That’s my name,” snapped Ephie-Ephialtes. “Or you can use my stage name: The Big F!” 

               Otis grimaced, shaking his head slightly. “I’m still not sure about that stage name,” he admitted.

               “Nonsense! It’s perfect. Now, how are the preparations coming along?” 

               “Fine.” Otis didn’t sound very enthusiastic as he took a double look over his twin. “The man-eating tigers, the spinning blades … But I still think a few ballerinas would be nice.” 

               “No!” Ephialtes suddenly yelled, his face twisted with rash irritation. “No. No ballerinas! And this thing—” He waved one hand at the bronze jar in disgust. “What does it do? It’s not exciting.” 

               “But that’s the whole point of the show. He dies unless the others rescue him. And if they arrive on schedule—” 

               “Oh, they’d better!” Ephialtes nodded. Suddenly, he pointed a meaty finger at his brother. “July first, the Kalends of July, sacred to Juno. That’s when Mother wants to destroy those stupid demigods and really rub it in Juno’s face. Besides, I’m not paying overtime for those gladiator ghosts!” 

               “Well, then, they all die,” Otis said casually as he shrugged, “and we start the destruction of Rome. Just like Mother wants. It’ll be perfect. The crowd will love it. Roman ghosts adore this sort of thing.” 

               Percy frowned as he eavesdropped. His skin crawled the longer he stayed in a forced audience of these two giants. It was a dream, he knew that, but yet he felt the need to duck and hide. He crept closer to the boxes, crouching down beside them as he shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. It was a dream, he knew that, but even there had been times when others had almost spotted him as he viewed from his dreams.

               Ephialtes, however, looked unconvinced compared to Otis. “But the jar just stands there. Couldn’t we suspend it above a fire, or dissolve it in a pool of acid or something? Or anything?” 

               “We need him alive for a few more days,” Otis reminded his brother, who didn’t look happy at the reminder. “Otherwise, the nine won’t take the bait and rush to save him.” 

               Ephialtes hummed, reanalyzing the jar with a frown. “... I s’pose. I’d still like a little more screaming. This slow death is boring. Ah, well, what about our talented friend? Is she ready to receive her visitor?” 

               Otis’s face turned sour. “I really don’t like talking to her. She makes me nervous.”

               “But is she ready?” 

               Otis glared at his brother for a short moment. Eventually, he did grumble; “... Yes. She’s been ready for centuries. No one will be removing that statue.” 

               “Excellent.” Ephialtes rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “This is our big chance, my brother.” 

               “That’s what you said about our last stunt,” Otis mumbled, rolling his eyes ever so slightly. “I was hanging in that block of ice suspended over the River Lethe for six months, and we didn’t even get any media attention.” 

               “This is different!” Ephialtes insisted. “We will set a new standard for entertainment! If Mother is pleased, we can write our own ticket to fame and fortune!” 

               “If you say so.” Otis sighed and shrugged. “Though, I still think those ballerina costumes from Swan Lake would look lovely—” 

               “No ballet!” 

               “Sorry …” 

               “Come.” Ephialtes urged his brother forward, waving his hand dramatically. “Let’s examine the tigers. I want to be sure they are hungry!” 

               The two giants disappeared, lumbering into the gloom and red haze surrounding them. When he could no longer see even their forms, Percy turned towards the jar. He had to see what was inside that jar. The way those giants spoke, this jar had something to do with the nine on the Argo II—not just Percy, but his friends.

               He stood up from behind the boxes he had hidden behind. He reached out, willing his dream to push him forward—until he reached the jar. He had to do a little more pushing, but eventually, Percy phased through the ceramic walls of the jar until he was inside. The air hit him in the face like a ton of bricks, and he couldn’t control the way his face physically reacted to it. It was the smell of stale breath and tarnished metal. There was hardly any light inside, and the only light came from the dim, purple glow of a dark sword—Stygian iron. The blade was laid against one side of the container. 

               Percy knew that sword. He knew the owner of that sword. The owner was huddled next to the blade in a small heap—a dejected-looking boy in tattered jeans, a black shirt, and an old aviator jacket. The boy’s face was sunken, and his jet-black hair hung over his forehead into his closed eyes. On his right hand, a sliver skull ring gleamed in the purple light. He had looked like this for years by now, but Percy always had that brief moment of seeing him for the first time in a long time—that brief moment where he remembered what this kid used to be like. So happy, so energetic. 

               “Nico …” Percy breathed, his chest tightening with worry. But he knew the son of Hades wouldn’t be able to hear him.

               The jar was sealed tight—there was no air coming in ( or coming out ), and the air inside was quickly turning poisonous. Nico’s eyes were closed tightly, but—just barely—his chest was moving up and down. He was breathing, but it was incredibly shallow. It was almost like he was meditating, only Percy had never seen meditating become some sort of coma. On the wall beside him, Percy saw barely etched marks—three shallow, jagged lines on the inner ceramic wall he must’ve made with the sword. That had to be Nico’s way of counting how many days he’d been imprisoned—three, long days.

               Percy didn’t know how it was possible to survive that long—three entire days sealed in this jar, and not suffocate all the while. Even in a dream, he was already starting to feel panicky, feeling as if he was drowning in the muskeg all over again.

               Admittedly, he and Nico had a rocky relationship—and that was putting it lightly. Years ago, Percy had failed Nico by failing to protect Bianca on the quest to save Artemis. Then, Nico lied and led Percy straight into a trap set by Hades so he would be imprisoned in the Underworld as Kronos and Luke were just about to attack New York City and Olympus. ( Though, part of Nico had been entirely unaware of what exactly Hades wanted to do … ) Despite all that, Percy tried to put the differences aside—he had been the one to make the relationship rocky in the very beginning when he failed to protect Bianca. He owed Nico a lot, and if not just for Nico, then for Elisa. 

               Then he noticed something at the son of Hades’s feet. There was a small collection of glistening objects no bigger than popcorn kernels. They were seeds, Percy realized. Pomegranate seeds. Three of them had already been eaten and spat out. There were five more still encased in a dark red pulp.

               Percy looked back at Nico, his heart lurching in his chest. He didn’t understand how the pomegranate seeds were keeping Nico alive, but he knew enough to know that their help was only temporary. By the number of seeds spat out, they had five days to find and save Nico—or he would die of suffocation in this sealed jar.

               He leaned forward, closer to Nico, as if that would help the son of Hades hear any better. “Nico,” he started, his voice imploring, “where is this place? Elisa’s worried sick. C’mon, tell me. We’re coming to save you …” 

               Around him, the vision of Nico trapped in that jar started to fade. Percy tried to keep himself grounded, grounded inside the dream; however, keeping yourself in a place where only your mind was was hard. The sound of a familiar voice was stirring him out of sleep: “Percy.”

               Hearing the voice, Percy had a moment where he thought he was still asleep. That the voice was just another dream—a cruel dream where that voice would speak to him again and again, but he would never be able to reach her. Those long, long months he had lost his memories, he often dreamt of one girl—only glimpses, and any time he tried to get closer, she would disappear into wisps of smoke. He dreamt of that girl so often, he often ended up confusing those dreams for his memories. Even now, there was still some confusion if everything he dreamt of that girl was all just fabrications of his mind. He held onto those dreams tightly when he arrived at Camp Jupiter, reluctant to share them with anyone. Whether it was a dream or real memories, it was the clearest thing he knew—that girl with a dimple when she smiled, deep amethyst-colored eyes, wildly curly black hair, and a laugh that was light and airy, like she couldn’t believe she found him funny.

               Percy feared that if he told anyone about those dreams, they would disappear, too. Irrational fear, sure. But it was the one thing he had, and he wasn’t willing to let it go.

               But it wasn’t a dream. That girl’s voice was real, and she was whisper-yelling at him. As he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, he saw her. That fear gripping him—fear of drowning, suffocation, or that she was just a figment of his imagination—by the throat was released. She was real, she was standing by his berth, and she was the one saying his name.

               There had been a time at Camp Jupiter when Percy feared that all those glimpses of this girl were just his imagination working overtime. That the girl—Elisa as Percy was sure her name was at the time, though he had nothing to prove it besides Juno cosplaying as an old lady ( not exactly concrete proof, mind you )—was just a figment of his imagination that was working in overdrive to protect his brain. It was his brain’s way of helping him—giving him something to work toward, a way to give him comfort that he wasn’t entirely alone in a world that was so scary and out for blood.

               Now, he knew that wasn’t the truth. Now that he had his memories back, Percy knew that it wasn’t just his mind trying to protect him. The hope that the dream glimpses of the girl he could never reach was a real girl. She was real, and they did have memories together—his brain hadn’t made it all up.

               Elisa had always been pretty. She had always been cute when she was younger, with the way her cheeks bunched up and the dimple appeared on one side as she smiled, or the way her eyebrows knitted as she concentrated ( or was angry at him for something ), or even the way she would mutter in Spanish as she thought to herself aloud. But then they grew up—both her and Percy. In all of that, he had lost the exact moment when she had changed from cute to beautiful.

               She slumped on the end of his bed, just below his feet, and made the mattress rock back and forth ever so slightly. Her curly black hair fell just below her shoulders, and the curtain bangs around her face were messy—some were sticking straight up like TV antennas. Admittedly, Percy stared at her for a long moment, and the feeling of eyes on her made Elisa turn her head sharply to face him. 

               That action reminded him of the first time he met Elisa, as her head turned to face him sharply in the darkness. He had known about his godly heritage for a few years by then, and admittedly, he was having a small ego trip now that Thalia Grace was back from her time as a tree. He thought, stupidly, that he could save all three half-bloods from Westover’s very own manticore, Dr. Thorn all by himself—Bianca and Nico di Angelo, along with Elisa Bardales.

               He failed miserably. And Elisa didn’t fail to remind him back then, calling him all sorts of insulting names in Spanish as she did so. One of those names even stuck after a while—Chico Pez. ( She was super sentimental that way. )

               “What?” she demanded.

               He blinked at her stupidly, his throat rough as he swallowed. ( He had to be drooling with how dry his mouth was … ) “You’re asking me what?” He cleared his throat, which was heavy with sleep. “Are we there yet or something?”

               She frowned at him, her brows knitting together. “What …? Oh. No.” She shook her head. She shifted on the bed, pulling her legs underneath her and her hands folding in her lap. “It’s the middle of the night.”

               Percy’s eyes widened. His heart started to race as he quickly sat up in his bed. “Wha—wait, what?” He was becoming very aware of the situation, the grogginess from sleep quickly washing away. He was in his pajamas, in his bed. He was sure of it now—he had to have been drooling, or making all sorts of weird noises as he dreamt. No doubt he had a severe case of bedhead and breath that couldn’t smell great. “You sneaked into my cabin?”

               She stared at him, blinking once, then twice. “Why’d you say it like—that?” she demanded, scowling at him. 

               “I, uh—” He was blushing furiously. “Isn’t there a curfew or something? Coach Hedge?”

               Elisa scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’re afraid of little ol’ Hedge?”

               “Uh … have you seen his baseball bat?”

               “Uh—yeah,” she nodded, her arms crossing over her chest, “and he’s threatened me with it many times. I’m still here, clearly.”

               “Oh, sure. Easy for you to say …”

               She glared at him for a moment. Then, she sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I came here ‘cause I had a dream. 'Bout Nico.” Her eyes carefully scanned the bare walls of his room. “I’ve bothered Annabeth and the others enough over the months …”

               “Oh.” Percy straightened. He may have been away for six months ( against his own will, truthfully ), but he still knew Elisa to know she was trying to be vulnerable—and that it took a lot for her to even try.

               She looked away from the bare wall and back to him. “I’m gonna tell the others in the morning, just …”

               “No, I get it. Promise,” he swore. “But … can I change? Brush my teeth?”

               “And your hair,” she advised.

               “You, too,” he replied, rolling his eyes lightly. “It looks like you have antennas sticking out from your head.”

               She scowled at him again, jutting out her foot to try and kick him. However, Percy swung his legs over the side of his bed, just out of reach of Elisa’s foot. She didn’t look too angry, but she was furiously dragging her fingers through her hair, trying to make it obey gravity. “I was gonna show you a place I thought you might like on the Argo.” She mockingly glared at him, wincing slightly as her finger caught a small knot ( though she tried to pretend she hadn’t ). “But—never mind.”

               Percy grinned at her. His pulse was in overdrive still, but it wasn’t from the fear of getting into trouble with Coach Hedge and his baseball bat. “Oh, c’mon. I think the antenna look adds charm!”

               “Whatever, Chico Pez …”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Even for a trireme, the Argo II was a huge ship. Despite that, it still felt cozy to Percy—this unexpected warm feeling that settled into his chest and comforted him. In some bizarre way, it reminded him of his old dorm back in Yancy Academy, a place he hadn’t thought about in years ( for good reason, mind you ). He often went out of his way to not think of any of the boarding schools he had been kicked out of, Yancy Academy especially. None of them were a particularly happy time in his life; however, holding Elisa’s hand made those memories just a bit more bearable. 

               She led him down the steps to the second deck, stopping just past the sickbay to turn an ear out towards some noise. Percy didn’t dare utter even a single word as she peaked around the corner of the sickbay, watching anxiously as she scanned the dark hall. His heart was still racing, now more so with the fear of getting caught by Hedge with his baseball bat. Eventually, Elisa decided the coast was clear of angry Hedges, turning to look over her shoulder at him—subsequently, then, she chuckled lightly at the expression on his face. If it hadn’t been so quiet, just the rumbles of the Argo II making any noise, Percy would have missed the sound. His heart did a pitter-patter as he realized all those vague memories were right—Elisa’s laugh was just as those memories told him all those months on the run.

               He knew what she was laughing at—the nervous expression on his face, as the anxiety of getting caught by Hedge started to take over. He had missed the sound of her laugh so much he couldn’t even pretend to be upset that she was laughing at him. She shook her head lightly, grinning at him, before grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him along. She didn’t say anything as he slipped his hand into hers, interlocking their fingers. She had snuck into his room, gloom clearly written across her face with the news of a bad dream on her tongue, but the more time they spent together, the more Percy started to become on his feet. He missed that; he missed her. Not the troubles of being a demigod—no, he missed how they could spend time together and that overshadowed the troubles that came as a package deal with the godly-heritage-and-godly-powers ordeal. Even when they were battling the troubles—literally battling the monsters, titans, and other deadly beasts—they had done it together. They had nearly died together; they held the sky together, all those years ago. Despite all of that, being with Elisa still made him feel somewhat normal—like they were just a couple of normal, mortal teenagers who were going against their parent's wishes and breaking curfew. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that until he felt almost mortal.

               Percy hadn’t explored anything on the second deck beyond the sickbay, so Elisa was taking the lead this time. She was passing by what looked like an engine room without a second glance, however, Percy pulled her back by the hand as he stalled just outside the door. It looked like a jungle gym—a very dangerous, mechanized jungle gym with pipes, pistons, and tubes jutting from a very large central bronze sphere. Around all of that, he spotted cables that snaked across the floor and ran up the walls.

               He pointed inside the room, asking; “How does that thing even work?”

               Elisa glanced inside, and soon, she shrugged. “Uh … I dunno,” she admitted. “Leo tried to tell me about it, but I only became more confused.”

               He hummed. “That’s reassuring.”

               She rolled her eyes at his use of sarcasm. “It’ll be fine. Leo knows what he’s doing. I mean—it’s only threatened to blow up on us once.”

               Percy looked at his girlfriend sharply. “You’re kidding … I hope.”

               However, Elisa only grinned at him, turning on her heels to walk further down. ( That wasn’t exactly a reassuring response. )

               They continued on their way, working past the many supply rooms and the armory. As they made it toward the stern of the ship, they reached a set of wooden double doors that opened into a large stable. Elisa held the door open for Percy as he slipped inside, and she was careful shutting the right door so too much noise wasn’t made. He took the room in, a smell making his noise itch—the smell of fresh hay and wool blankets. The smell was strong, but it was a comforting scent. It reminded him of the stables at Camp Half-Blood. Lining the left wall were three empty horse stalls, just like the ones used for pegasi back at Camp. Lining the right wall were two empty cages big enough for large zoo animals, and in between those cages were miscellaneous sets of tools, a work table, sacks of food, and other items to care for pegasi—all sorts of stuff you’d see in the stables back at Camp.

               At their feet in the center of the floor was a twenty-foot-square panel, see-through so you could gaze right at the landscape. Far below, the scene was flying by—miles of countryside blanketed by the nighttime, crisscrossed with illuminated highways like the strands of a web.

               Percy glanced back at Elisa, who was still standing by the door, one hand on the doorknob like she was thinking of making a run for it; however, her expression looked pleased and satisfied. “A glass-bottomed boat?” he asked her.

               Her grin widened, and she moved to grab a blanket folded over the stable gate nearest to her. She held it to her chest, the fabric folded over one arm as she stopped beside him. She looked down, her eyes darting right to left as she took in the scenery below. “Yeah,” she finally replied. “It was Leo’s idea—the idea for a stables. But Annabeth was the one who suggested the glass bottom. You know, architect her.”

               He didn’t fail to notice the wistful turn the smile took. Or the way her eyes turned distant and misty, like she was missing something. He knew exactly what she was missing—home; Camp Half-Blood. From twelve to fourteen, it was the very thing she fought so hard to get—traveling across the country completely alone, battling the empousa hunting her, and dealing with Kronos’ goons trying to get her to join their army. He also understood what she had the blanket for—which he took from her arms, laying it on the glass so they could sit down and watch the dark countryside as it whisked by. 

               She sat by him, pulling her knees to her chest and crossing her ankles over one another. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she rested her chin on a knee. She wasn’t one for a lot of physical touch—the simple, easy stuff like hand-holding was what she preferred. However, she didn’t complain when Percy wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to savor the quiet time—something he had longed for the moment he had woken up in the Wolf House months back. If he closed his eyes, he could even imagine that they were back at Camp, sitting around the bonfire with smores and singing campers with them. Times he hadn’t cherished enough until he had lost them.

               Elisa was the one to break the silence first. She said; “Leo built the stables so pegasi could come and go easily. Only it took Annabeth reminding him that they prefer to roam free, so …” she shrugged, jarring Percy’s arm and shoulder, “the stables are always empty.”

               Percy frowned ever so slightly, his eyes drawing back to the glass. He wondered where Blackjack was—probably roaming the skies somewhere, hopefully following the Argo II. Admittedly, his head still throbbed from the horse hoof to the back of the head, but he didn’t hold that against the pegasus. Then, his frown deepened as he thought about Elisa’s words. “What do you mean, come and go easily? Wouldn’t a pegasus have to make it down—like—two flights of stairs?”

               Elisa frowned back, her eyebrows knitting together. Then, her eyebrows raised for a moment, as if in a Maybe he wouldn’t know manner. She shifted so she could tap her knuckles against the glass a couple of times. “The glass are doors, Percy. Like, bay doors. Like, the bay doors on bombers.”

               Percy looked sharply from her, the glass, then back to her. “You mean … we’re sitting on doors? What if they opened up on us?”

               She looked back to the glass. She was silent for a short moment, then, she shrugged. “Then we’d fall to our death. But they won’t—” She quickly glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Probably.”

               “Oh.” He leaned back, resting both hands behind him to keep himself propped up. “Yeah. Great.”

               She rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head. “I showed you this ‘cause I thought you’d like it—not the whole doors-may-open-on-us-ad-drop-us-to-our-death thing, but the fact it’s a stables. You know, remind you of Camp.” 

               Percy stared at her for a long moment. Overhead was a Celestial bronze lamp hanging from one of the beams, and in the amber light, Elisa’s face looked almost ghostly—but still beautiful. The light made her eyes look like two perfectly circular amethyst gems. Even the two hair antennas were gone by now.

               She looked away from him, her eyes darting back to the web of highways below. “It also reminded me of you. The stables, I mean.”

               He stared longer, analyzing the way the bronze lamp created shadows over her face. His heart twisted at her words, and he knew it took her a lot to say them—therefore it meant everything to Percy to hear that, even if it made him guilty. She didn’t mean to guilt-trip him, and he knew she didn’t want to, but his heart still ached to know how much she had suffered from his absence. It hadn’t been his choice, of course, but she still suffered. 

               She looked at him. “Don’t feel bad,” she told him, frowning at the remorseful expression on his face. “S’not your fault. It’s Hera’s—Juno’s—whatever. Besides, you were helping people. That’s what you’re good at.”

               He tried to smile at her, knowing she could read her expression better than she could any book. “Am I hearing correctly? I mean—is Elisa Bardales complimenting me? Could this be? Elisa Bardales?”

               Her pursed lips dropped into a deep scowl. “I take it back. Feel bad. Feel like shit even, Chico Pez.”

               A grin tugged at his lips, the nostalgia for the nickname making his chest happy ( even if it was meant to be insulting ). “Hey, there’s a lot to compliment when it comes to me. One; the son of Poseidon—”

               “—Eh, Theseus—” Elisa shook her head.

               “Two; battled Ares and won. Three; brought back the Golden Fleece—”

               “Along with Annabeth, Grover, and Clarisse,” added Elisa, rolling her eyes.

               “Four; held up the sky—”

               “—So did I. And Annabeth!”

               Percy nudged her with his elbow, making her rock back and forth slightly. “But which one of us fought Kronos?”

               She stared at him, but he could see a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not gonna date an egomaniac, Percy.”

               “There’s a lot to like.” He shrugged, leaning back on his hands once again. She only looked at him from the corner of her eye, shaking her head with a small grin. When she didn’t deny it, his eyebrows raised into his hairline as he grinned. “You’re not denying it!”

               She rolled her eyes. “I’m dating you! You should hope I like you!”

               Percy smiled at her. “What? So, you’ve liked me since you met me?”

               Suddenly, she snorted loudly. “Gods, no. I hated you, Percy. Like, no, really—hated you. Thought you were an idiot. Then, you turned out to be not-so-bad. I still didn’t like you, but holding up the sky with me was nice, I s’pose—”

               “Okay, okay. Fine—”

               “I tolerated you for a few months,” she continued, grinning at him. “Those letters really got on my nerves—”

               He blew a raspberry. “Nonsense. My stick-figure reenactments of my quests were awesome!”

               “Whatever you want to believe …”

               Just underneath the collar of her sleeping shirt was the leather necklace every demigod from Camp Half-Blood had. Elisa had two beads now—one with the design of a labyrinth etched into it and the second with the Empire State Building and the names of lost demigods. But there was a third thing on the leather cord: a red coral pendant Percy had given her not long after they started dating. He had brought it back from his father’s palace from the bottom of the sea. They were a reminder of how far they had come—from fourteen to nearly seventeen. Almost three years. For any regular mortal, that wouldn’t mean much. But to demigods, they were lucky to get birthdays—even if they didn’t feel lucky.

               Looking back on it, those years passed by in the blink of an eye—just as Chiron had warned him ages ago. But they had gone through so much during that time—they had gone through it together, even if they didn’t get along in the beginning. His eyes locked on the grey strand of hair curling around Elisa’s face. Despite the time that had passed, it never went away; a permanent reminder of holding up the sky. She had taken the curse with him so he wouldn’t be alone, and they had shared the burden—together. Even if she said she only tolerated him at the time, you don’t bear the weight of the sky with someone you tolerate.

               He remembered what Juno had told him: To have a chance of saving Elisa Bardales from her own mind. Not exactly comforting news to be receiving about who you thought was your girlfriend after six months ( and hardly any memories ). Juno’s words rang throughout his mind, and Percy found himself frowning. He had all his memories back, and now he remembered everything she had ever gone through. No one deserved to go through what she had, but Elisa didn’t deserve it especially. She was targeted by the empousa, hunted like prey, nearly killed by Brian Anders, taunted by the death of her loved ones, and used by Kronos’s Army. Everything she had ever known in Durango had been pulled out from underneath her feet. The satyr sent to protect and help her to Camp died saving her. Percy never wanted her to go through anything like that ever again. He wanted to try and protect her—but he knew he couldn’t, not from everything out in the world. But he could at least try.

               She shuffled over and rested her head on his shoulder. Half the time, she felt like a satyr with the way she could read his emotions. “You shouldn’t feel bad for going missing,” she told him, reminding him of what she said earlier. “Really.”

               “I—I know—”

               “Yeah, I missed you—horribly. Terribly.” Her voice was heavy and raw, like she was ready to cry. “But I’ve been on the run. It was hard enough, and I had all my memories. I—I couldn’t imagine what it was like to hardly even know your name, and have monsters hunting after you all the while.”

               The knot in Percy’s throat became worse. He had been so focused on survival that he never had the time to stop and think. It was horrible, but the mere idea of Elisa was what had kept him going. He wanted to tell her that, but he didn’t know if he could ever find the right words. It wasn’t something he could say casually. Even if he meant it no matter how he said it, he couldn’t just come out and say it.

               He never did find the right words. Perhaps, part of his brain thought, he could just kiss the thought to her. But he didn’t want to move Elisa, and he wasn’t even sure he could convey everything he wanted in kisses. Besides, sitting here in just Elisa’s company with the view of the countryside below them was enough for the time being. It was exactly what he wanted from the moment he saw her surrounded by the others at Camp Jupiter—to be together and alone with her, with no annoying gods meddling in their business. 

               He remembered earlier in the night, when Piper had forced the eidolon to leave his mind. Percy hadn’t been aware of the presence until it had been forcibly removed via charmspeak. He hadn’t realized how much pain he had been in until the spirit was gone—like a hot spike had been removed from the nape of his neck. His soul settled comfortably back into his body. And sitting here with Elisa made him feel that same way—like a part of his soul had been returned.

               The past few months have felt like another one of his strange dreams. The time he spent training with Lupa, and then his time at Camp Jupiter—they were just as fuzzy and unreal as that fight he had with Jason while they were both under the eidolons’ control. Even then, Percy didn’t regret his time at Camp Jupiter. It had opened his eyes in a lot of ways.

               He glanced at Elisa, only able to see the top of her head. “Elisa,” he began hesitantly, “in New Rome, demigods can live their whole lives in peace.”

               Her breathing changed, just enough for Percy to notice. She sat up, and he saw that her expression had turned guarded. “Jason explained some to me. I mean, I saw New Rome.” Her right hand started to tug at the leather cord. She kept nervously turning the labyrinth bead over and over. “But … Camp Half-Blood is my home—it’s your home. It’s where you belong, Percy—”

               “I know,” he replied quickly. “But while I was there, I saw so many demigods living without fear: kids going to college, couples getting married and having kids. There’s … nothing like that at Camp Half-Blood. I kept thinking about you and me … and maybe—someday—when this war with the giants is over …”

               Elisa’s hand paused on the leather necklace. It was hard to see in the golden light, but he swore she was blushing. She refused to meet his gaze, an expression on her face that even he couldn’t read—it bothered him more than he cared to admit. She almost looked … scared; terrified. 

               Percy wanted to curse himself. He was even afraid that he said too much—no, he knew he had. He had scared her with his big dreams of the future. 

               “I’m sorry,” he rushed out, leaning over to try and get Elisa to look at him. “I just … I had to think of that to keep going. To give me hope. Forget I mentioned—”

               “I—No—I mean …” Elisa’s hands dropped into her lap, and the leather cord laid above the collar of her shirt. “That’s not what I—” She stopped suddenly, taking a deep breath as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Percy, that’s a really, really sweet idea. It’s a sweet dream.”

               He felt as if his heart was hanging in between the two of them as Elisa danced around the topic. Her use of the word “dream” made him incredibly nervous. He felt as if he had just transformed into an elephant and trampled inside a China shop that had been titled Percy’s Hopes & Dreams for the Future! 

               Elisa’s expression was hesitant as she continued, like she was afraid of bursting his bubble. “What if we’ve burned that bridge? Completely? The two camps were separated for a reason. And things had already gone to shit with only the Argo II visiting. If we can’t repair things with the Romans …” Her lips pursed as she looked at him. “I … I don’t know if we could ever belong there, Percy.”

               “But what if we could?” he insisted, pressing the matter. He didn’t want to argue with her, not after everything. He had just gotten her back. But he couldn’t let go of that hope. It felt important to him—not just for him and Elisa, but for all other demigods. It had to be possible to belong in two different worlds at once. That’s what being a demigod was—not quite belonging in the mortal world or up on Mount Olympus, but trying to make peace with both sides. “We could have a life there. Go to college. Not have to worry about monsters, or even going on another stupid quest for the gods.”

               She looked away from him, keeping her eyes carefully glued to the glass beneath them. All the talk of the gods made him remember something—the dream, and how Elisa had said she also had one. He watched her carefully, wondering if it was worth poking after everything. “You said you had a dream—about Nico. What was it?”

               The question made her sigh deeply, and her eyes closed for a brief moment. She was silent for a long time. As long as Percy has known her, and as much as they had gone through together, there were still moments where he felt like he understood so little about her. He knew her from front to back, he knew her quirks, her expressions, her past—yet, at the same time, he felt like he had so little answers as she kept so much of that past guarded close to her chest. 

               “I hadn’t had that dream in a long time.” Percy frowned and looked back at her. Her knees were back to her chest, and she had her arms tightly wrapped around her legs. “The day I was attacked, in Durango. I saw,” she took a breath, her eyes turning glassy, “my mom, Silas—then, the fire. Then the ashes of the building and … all of them. The empousa, Maurelle, was taunting me again. Her voice was the fire—or her voice was in the fire.”

               Percy stared at her. He knew what happened in Durango. Elisa had told him, not because she wanted to, but because she couldn’t bottle it up any longer. Despite that, he had never heard of this dream—and that bothered him. If she told him, he could’ve helped her.

               “Maurelle’s voice changed into Silas and my mom’s.” Elisa sniffled, quickly and furiously wiping at her eyes. “Then, it was Nico’s voice. He …” Her jaw jutted out as tears brimmed in her eyes. “His voice was blaming me for the fact he was missing. Then I saw him in that stupid jar, with those two stupid-looking giants talking ‘bout him like he’s trash.”

               Percy was silent for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. He didn’t comment on her wiping at her eyes. Instead, he said; “So you heard those giants planning some sort of Rome-destroying extravaganza with Nico as the bait and our deaths as the opening event?”

               She nodded. “Gaea’s forces must’ve captured him somehow. But where are they keeping him? I mean—besides the jar.”

               Nico meant a lot to her, Percy knew that. He remembered the way Elisa and Bianca had some silent exchange in Artemis’s tent all those years back, like Bianca was passing the torch of caring for Nico to Elisa. Elisa was now the caretaker for Nico, and she had taken that burden without question and complaint. Nico was like a brother to her. 

               “I don’t know exactly,” he admitted’ Somewhere in Rome. Somewhere underground. You know what they said. They made it sound like Nico had a few days left to live, but … I don’t see how he could hold out that long with no oxygen.”

               “Five more days, according to Nemesis and the amount of uneaten pomegranate seeds at Nico’s feet,” replied Elisa. “That’s Kalends of July.” At Percy’s confused expression, she added; “Kalends, sound like calendar. It’s the Roman word for calendar. Just the Roman way of saying first of the month—at least, that’s what Jason told me. I mean—those pomegranate seeds must have something to do with his survival, but I dunno how they are doing it. We should ask Hazel.”

               “Now?”

               Elisa shook her head. “Gods, no. This’d be horrible news to get in the middle of the night. We can tell her in the morning.”

               Percy frowned as he remembered something else from the dream. “The giants mentioned a statue. And something about a talented friend who was guarding it. Whoever this friend was, she scared Otis. Anyone who can scare a giant …”

               The caged, guarded expression returned on Elisa’s face. She stared down at a lone highway snaking through some dark hills. She knew something, something that she wasn’t telling him.

               “You know something.”

               She let out a deep breath through her nose. “... I can’t say. I promised Annabeth I wouldn’t.”

               He waited for a moment, but she didn’t elaborate with any more details. Elisa just frowned down at the scenery passing below them. She looked lost and torn. She looked pained with secrets and confused with no idea how to solve whatever problem was plaguing her. He wanted to make her feel better and tell her it would be okay—but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to fix everything for both of them so they could have a happy ending. After all these years and all their troubles, none of the gods could deny that they deserved it.

               Whatever she was hiding, it had something to do with Annabeth. They knew something that they were keeping between the two of them. Suddenly, Percy remembered a line from the prophecy Ella spoke: Wisdom’s daughter walks alone.

               Percy had a gut feeling he couldn’t help Annabeth this time, either. He couldn’t do anything for his best friend, other than simply being there for her. He didn’t like it. It made him feel trapped and as helpless as he had been when he’d sunk into the muskeg.

               Elisa sighed suddenly, sitting up straight and turning to look at him. She grabbed his upper arm and squeezed it. “We need to get some sleep—hopefully dreamless, this time.”

               She leaned forward and kissed him briefly. She broke the kiss and stood up, grabbing one end of the blanket—an informal message, telling Percy to get up. He didn’t want to, wanting to pull Elisa back into his arms and continue kissing her; however, he stood up, wincing as his joints screamed at him for sitting awkwardly for so long. 

               Elisa smiled at him faintly as she messily gathered the blanket into her arms. “Sorry for ruining the moment, Percy.”

               He frowned at her. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

               “Almost crying on you wasn’t exactly the highlight of my night,” she replied back. “I hope your girlfriend almost crying to you wouldn’t be the highlight of your night.”

               He considered it for a moment, but Elisa took his silence as agreement. She nodded along, folding the blanket back and tossing it over the stall door. She stopped just before the double doors, locking eyes with him as he stopped beside her. “Try and get some sleep. We’ll tell the others about the dream in the morning.”

               For a brief moment, Percy had a snarky remark on the tip of his tongue: So you and Annabeth can keep those secrets between just the two of you? But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not with the way Elisa looked at him. Instead, he said; “Yes, ma’am.”

               “That makes me sound old!”

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter twelve

━━ THE HOOF-SIZED knot had the viciousness of a tenacious stalker. When she was busy, she didn’t notice it. When she wasn’t busy, it was all she could think about. Technically, the knot on the back of her head was no more after the ambrosia and Coach Hedge’s healing ( though, she was baffled that a satyr could perform healing so well, the fauns at Camp Jupiter couldn’t do anything like that—to her knowledge, at least ). Despite that, she felt like it was still there—this dull throb at the very back of her head if she thought about it too long. 

               And thinking too long was the very thing she did as she tried to sleep.

               It was all a bad combination for sleeping—the phantom hoof-sized knot and its pain, the overthinking, and the sudden fear of sleeping. The eidolon rattled her—even more than the pegasus kick to the head did. It also didn’t feel great having Frank and Hazel ( especially Frank ) fretting over her, handling her with kid gloves. They were worried about her, even if they didn’t say it aloud—they didn’t have to, not with the way they tiptoed around her. She didn’t need their worry. She just needed Gaea to stop meddling in her life. ( However, Abilene knew that was never going to happen—no matter how much she wished for it. )

               They were treating her differently, even if they didn’t intend to. But how could they not treat her differently? Not only had she had her world turned upside down—learning your mother was a goddess would be enough to do that, let alone that the goddess was Gaea—Frank and Hazel had as well. They both had the world-shattering event of learning one of their parents was a god—Mars and Pluto respectively. Then they had another world-shattering realization that the goddess Gaea was trying to rise up again and take over the world ( ending humanity in the process ). To make matters worse, they couldn’t even let the idea of Gaea trying to rise up again settle in as Abilene told them something she feared the most—that she was Gaea’s daughter. 

               It was something she tried to keep from them. It was something she tried to keep from herself. It was this strange sense of abandonment to know the goddess you had prayed to for years was nothing to you. Abilene held no connection to Ceres, and Ceres held no connection to Gaea. ( If anything now, Ceres held resentment to Abilene for her undeniable, unwanted connection to Gaea. ) It was abandonment, but also complete denial—Abilene didn’t want to be a demigod, let alone the daughter of the evil Mother Earth. It didn’t seem possible, it shouldn’t be possible, and yet, Gaea had woken up enough to use the mortal genuity of George Briar to create a human daughter—Abilene Briar. She already wasn’t entirely human. No demigod was. But that undeniable, unbreakable tie to Gaea made her feel alien—like she wasn’t supposed to exist.

               And she wasn’t. Every god would tell her that. Juno had implied it, even if she didn’t say it outright. Even if, to Juno, Abilene had “proven” her loyalties, there would always be a question mark hanging over her head—Would she betray the gods for Gaea?

               She had proven her loyalties. She had proven that she was against the giants, that she was against Gaea. But she didn’t feel like it was enough—that it would ever be enough. She still felt like the odd man out, that she would forever be walking on eggshells around the people on the Argo II. Even worse, she felt like she was walking on eggshells around the people she had traveled to Alaska with. Abilene felt that she had to create this separation between her and the others—all of them, especially Frank. She didn’t want to put him at risk any more than he already was ( as a demigod or as one of the prophesied nine ). It was the fear and anxiety controlling her, she knew that. Yet, that fear and anxiety had her convinced all those worries were correct—no one trusted her, Gaea would somehow convince her to fight against the gods, Gaea would somehow control her, force her to do things she didn’t want.

               That’s why the eidolon scared her so much. That’s why she fought so hard against it.

               Gaea was meddling in Abilene’s life in ways she didn’t even know godly parents could meddle. Gaea’s tampering on her life was going so far that perhaps even Gaea herself didn’t mean for some of it to happen—though, with how conniving the goddess was proving herself to be, Abilene doubted that any of it was accidental. The mere thought of that scared her; the idea of it rattled her to her core. What else was there that Gaea knew but she had no idea about? The goddess was five steps ahead of Abilene at all times, and it was infuriating as much as it was terrifying. She was trying to play a game without even knowing the rules and against someone who was never going to play fair.

               Nothing about it was fair—not Abilene’s birth, not her being denied a loving mother, not her being denied her grandmother, not her being denied the truth, not her being denied the chance of a normal demigod life. For a moment, she had that life—then it was ripped out from underneath her the moment Jason Grace disappeared from Camp Jupiter. That was the start of the train wreck. Jason’s disappearance was the moment the conductor lost control of the train—and then came all the carts slamming into one another, creating a dangerous, deadly domino effect. 

               It wasn’t fair. And the bitterness of it all was becoming an all too familiar taste in Abilene’s mouth.

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but when the breakfast bell rang—nearly rattling Abilene’s entire head as it did so—she found it nearly impossible to get out of bed. She swore she had phantom pains—the out-of-body experience as an eidolon tried to take over her body and try to kill Elisa and Jason, the feeling of a pegasus’s hoof colliding with the back of her head. Not exactly the feeling she wanted to wake up to the very first thing in the morning. However, she knew if she didn’t get up, then Frank would come knocking on her door, asking if she was alright. Abilene didn’t know if she had it in her to turn him away again. She didn’t know if she had it in her to even be completely honest about all the things she felt—how she felt about him, or even about Gaea.

               The mess hall was mostly empty by the time Abilene made her way there. Elisa and Annabeth sat off in one corner, whispering to each other under their breaths. The daughter of Dionysus poked at a chicken biscuit, turning it around as she listened to whatever Annabeth was saying. On her plate, she also had a couple of slices of toast that were slathered in purple jam—grape jam, maybe. Annabeth was dragging a spoon through what looked like cinnamon oatmeal, whispering fervently to Elisa about something. Five or so seats down, on the opposite side of the table, were Jason and Frank, with an open seat between them. Neither of them were speaking, but Abilene could tell with the way Frank tilted his head that he was trying to tune an ear out for what Elisa and Annabeth were whispering about. With the way Jason had his eyes trained on the two with his chin tilted downwards, he must’ve been doing the same thing.

               She gravitated towards the open seat beside Frank. He jumped slightly at the sound of her pulling out the chair—the four chair legs dragging across the wooden floor loudly. All four pairs of eyes turned to her, and a tingle of nerves raced up her back at all the attention. Was she supposed to say good morning? It didn’t feel like a good morning—not to her, at least. It felt like a morning that was already dragging by, and it couldn’t have been more than twenty, maybe even thirty minutes, into the day. She quickly smiled at the four, sliding into the chair she had pulled out.

               “Hi,” she greeted Jason as Elisa and Annabeth stopped whispering to one another. She didn’t know if it was her arrival or if their conversation was naturally ending that was the cut-off for their hushed exchange—she didn’t exactly want to know, in case it was her that was the dealbreaker.

               The son of Jupiter smiled at her, setting the half-eaten donut he had taken from the middle of the table onto his plate. “Hey, Abilene,” he replied. “How’d you sleep?”

               She shrugged, grabbing a donut from the serving platter. It was a casual conversation; small talk people did mindlessly—but Abilene felt herself go rigid at the topic of sleep. She faltered for a moment, turning the donut around in her hand. “Fine, I guess.” She glanced away from the donut and between Frank and Jason, who both looked back at her. Silently, Frank laid his free hand on her knee, making her skin tingle at the touch. “It’s a little weird to be sleeping on a flying ship—to me, at least.”

               Jason thought for a moment, his eyebrows raising slightly. “I guess never thought about the ship flying,” he admitted.

               Frank set his fork down on his plate. He never was a fan of super sweet things like donuts or pancakes, that’s why he was eating a couple of bagels and eggs. “Can’t you fly? I remember hearing that back at Camp.”

               Abilene’s eyes flickered over to Frank. To him, Jason Grace was just a whisper at Camp Jupiter. The son of Jupiter had never been real the way he had been to Abilene and Hazel, who had met him before he disappeared in October. She was sure it was weird for Frank, it was weird for her—she had been friends with the blond, but now, as much as he looked the same, there was something different about him. He was more Greek now, instead of a very rigid Roman. ( It was no wonder the Romans had turned on him so quickly when that eidolon forced Leo to fire at New Rome, but Abilene was never going to say that aloud—not to Jason, at least. )

               “When he’s not getting knocked out,” Elisa added dryly from across the table. Quietly, Annabeth rolled her eyes, shaking her head as if to say I tried to stop her …

               Jason’s eyes narrowed on Elisa in a light-hearted manner. “Oh. Ha-ha, Elisa. Real funny.”

               “I think so, too.” She smiled smugly at him, leaning back in her chair, her breakfast half-eaten and half-forgotten.

               That’s when Abilene truly decided—Jason Grace was different, he was more Greek than any Roman would ever like or accept. It was only that she didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, or if it even mattered at all anymore.

               When everyone finally made it to the mess hall, it was rather loud than it had been before. Percy, naturally, sat beside Elisa, and stole the rest of her breakfast off her plate; however, she didn’t take care, fishing a donut off the middle plate and eating it. Leo came in loudly, with Piper shushing him as she rubbed her eyes and yawned. They filled in the empty seats on the other side of Jason, leaving the open seat between him and Frank. Hazel came in quietly compared to them, smiling at Abilene as she sat down beside her, grabbing a bagel for herself. And then came Coach Hedge.

               Abilene had met her fair share of … eccentric fauns, but this satyr really took the cake. He came in with a bat, practically flying through the door, and making every demigod stop and stare at him. All five feet of him stood just inside the doorway, his nostrils flared as he scanned each and every one of them. His bat swung out in front of him, making those closest to the door, Piper and Leo, lean back. 

               “Which one of you snuck out of your rooms last night?”

               Abilene glanced around the table, her eyes darting from demigod to demigod. What was Coach Hedge talking about? Well—now that she thought about it … she had heard whispers last night, but had chalked it up to her tiredness seeping in. She hadn’t been sure exactly when she fell asleep, but she had been awake for a good portion of the night. And the whispers did sound like a boy and a girl …

               Her eyes flittered back to Elisa and Percy. The black-haired girl rolled her eyes at Hedge, scoffing. “What are you talking about, Hedge? No one left their rooms last night.”

               The satyr’s eyes narrowed on her. “Are you trying to confuse me, Bardales?”

               “You don’t need my help with that—”

               “I’ll have you know,” he continued, making his voice louder to overpower the girl’s snide remark, “that my hearing is excellent for a satyr my age! And I heard some demigods roaming around last night—against the rules! Curfews are curfews for a reason!”

               “Then, why didn’t you confront those demigods?” she asked, her arms crossing over her chest.

               “My shows were too good.”

               Elisa blinked at the satyr for a moment, her jaw falling open slightly. “Then why even—”

               Jason cleared his throat loudly, sitting up in his seat to appear taller. “It doesn’t matter,” he quickly said. “Just grab some food, everybody. Let’s get started.”

               Abilene tried not to glance at Elisa and Percy again. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became—those voices she had vaguely heard did sound like them. But perhaps that was just her memory playing with her. Besides, she had heard that satyrs could read emotions, and if Hedge read her’s ( if he even could ), then his tirade about curfew-breaking demigods would only start up again.

               And if those two had snuck out of their rooms to meet, it wasn’t any of Abilene’s business!

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Abilene got a distinct feeling this meeting was what a war meeting would feel like if teenagers were running a war—but with donuts and pancakes. It was far different from Camp Jupiter, where teenagers were running it, but it was so disciplined and militaristic, that they felt much more like adults. Here, on the Argo II, around the wooden table, with nine demigods and a satyr, it felt like they were almost … playing a very serious game of cards—not too light-hearted, but also not discussing the potential end of the world.

               It was odd. On one hand, the simplistic, laid-back approach made it seem less real. On the other, it made her almost feel normal; it almost made her feel like a mortal, like she was sitting around a cafeteria table, working with her classmates on a large school project. Camp Jupiter, in many ways, was a very severe place at times—they took themselves very seriously, and the structure of it all was comforting after a while ( even if the large-scale efforts were scary in the beginning, like when she saw the legion assemble for the first time ). She liked the amenity, the routine, the predictability of it all. But she had learned to never question anything, especially not the gods. 

               There was a moment of pause as they watched Percy stack four pancakes on his plate, pouring syrup around so it made some sort of golden-colored moat. Elisa watched with an expression of expectancy, as if she expected her boyfriend to be the one to start the conversation. Percy recognized the silence, glancing up from his plate—his eyes widened when he saw Elisa’s expression. His mouth made a small O as he set the fork and syrup down. He cleared his throat, starting to tell the table ( who had all seemingly come to the same conclusion that it had been those two who snuck out of their cabins, though none of them were saying anything to Hedge ) about a dream he had the previous night—these twin giants who were planning a reception for the demigods on the Argo II in an underground parking lot with rocket launchers ( Abilene wasn’t sure how important that detail was ). But his words faltered in his story, his eyes flickering nervously to Elisa. She sat lazily in her chair, but Abilene could see apprehension and irritation in the way her eyes glowered at the wooden table. 

               Percy looked away from his girlfriend, delivering the story of the rest of his dream—he found Nico di Angelo trapped in a bronze jar by those two giants, and he was slowly dying from asphyxiation with pomegranate seeds poured at his feet, some eaten and some not.

               Abilene looked worriedly at Hazel, who had covered her mouth as tears brimmed in her eyes. “Nico … Oh, gods. The seeds.”

               From across the table, Annabeth leaned forward in her seat, her brows knitted together. “You know what they are?” she asked.

               The daughter of Pluto swallowed the bile of emotions in her throat, but she managed to nod. “He showed them to me once. They’re from our stepmother’s garden.”

               Percy frowned, glancing from Elisa back to Hazel. “Your step—? Oh … You mean Persephone.”

               “The seeds are a last-resort food,” explained Hazel. Abilene could tell she was nervous—all the silverware on the table was trembling, slowly inching its way toward the daughter of Pluto. She laid a hand on either side of her plate as her half-eaten donut threatened to tetter off her plate. “Only children of Hades can eat them. Nico always kept some in case he got stuck somewhere. But if he’s really imprisoned—”

               Annabeth cut her off; “The giants are trying to lure us in. They’re assuming we’ll try and rescue him.”

               The blonde’s tone made Abilene nervous. She assumed if the children of Athena would be anything, it would be practical; however, the way Annabeth spoke, it was as if she could see nothing but the practicality of saving Nico. She surely saw Nico as a person, but it was as if her rationalization was that if saving him didn’t help the quest, then saving him was at the top of the To-do list. ( But Abilene hoped she was wrong. She couldn’t imagine Annabeth, from what little she knew about her, to be this callous. She prayed it was her nerves taking over, preaching things that weren’t true at all. )

               Hazel must have picked up the subtle messaging of the tone as well. “Well, they’re right!” she replied, her voice becoming shrill. When no one immediately jumped to her defense, she looked wildly around the table—her confidence in their responses was quickly crumbling. “... Won’t we?”

               Suddenly, Coach Hedge sat up in his seat, his mouth full of white napkins. “Yes!” His answer was muffled, but they all knew he was agreeing. “It’ll involve fighting, right?”

               Elisa scowled at the satyr, her nostrils flared. She was practically bristling like a porcupine. “Not everything is about fighting, Hedge!”

               Abilene laid a hand on Hazel’s shoulder, quickly saying; “No, Hazel, we will save him. But …” She paused, wondering how to word the question without sounding as callous as she thought Annabeth had. “H-how do the seeds work? How do they help Nico?”

               Hazel sank down in her seat, miserably pulling a strand of her curly hair. “One seed a day—that’s if he puts himself in a death trance.”

               Annabeth frowned deeply, pushing her breakfast around in its dish. “A death trance …?” she repeated, her voice becoming less analytical and more … Abilene didn’t know what—sad?

               “It keeps him from consuming all his air,” explained Hazel. “Like hibernation, or a coma. One seed can sustain him a day—barely.”

               Elisa’s expression was twisted with anger and hurt. Abilene remembered the way she had reacted after Hazel brought Nico up at Camp Jupiter—like she knew him personally, and that she couldn’t believe he had a sister ( which wasn’t such an odd thing considering how much of them had siblings from their godly parents ). “He’s had three. Nico, I mean. He has five seeds left. That’s five days—including today.”

               “Hold up,” spoke Coach Hedge, leaning forward in his seat with his hand raised. “How do you know about this, Bardales?”

               Abilene swore she saw the girl’s eye twitch as she looked at the satyr. “I had the same dream. I know what you’re trying to say, Hedge, and you’re wrong—I was in my room all fucking night.”

               Percy laid a hand on the daughter of Dionysus’s shoulder, pushing her back into her seat. “The giants must’ve planned it that way, so we’d have to arrive by July first. Assuming Nico is hidden somewhere in Rome—”

               “That’s not much time,” Piper summed up. She looked between Hazel and Elisa sympathetically. “We’ll find him. At least we know what the lines of the prophecy means now. ‘Twins snuff out the angel’s breath, who holds the key to endless death.’ Your brother’s last name is di Angelo. Angelo is Italian for ‘angel.’”

               “Oh, gods …” murmured Hazel. She placed her face in her hands. “Nico …”

               Abilene silently stared down at her breakfast. Admittedly, she didn’t know what to think of Nico the majority of the time. But clearly, there were people around this table who cared—Hazel and Elisa. He had helped Hazel out from the Underworld, and Hazel held that dear to her heart. He was the reason she was given a second chance at life. Abilene didn’t know the story between Elisa and Nico, but it was clear that Dionysus’s daughter cared. Besides, even if those two didn’t care, no one deserved the death of slow suffocation in a bronze jar. 

               Percy poked at his pancakes with his fork. He glanced up to say; “We’ll rescue him. We have to. The prophecy says he holds the key to endless death.”

               “That’s right.” Piper nodded encouragingly. “Hazel, your brother went searching for the Doors of Death in the Underworld, right? He must’ve found them.”

               “He can tell us where the doors are,” continued Percy, “and how to close them.”

               Hazel took a deep breath, trying to blink away her tears. “Yes … Good.”

               Leo shifted in his chair, nervously glancing at Elisa like he knew what he was about to say wasn’t going to be received well. “Well … Just one thing: the giants are expecting us to do this, right? So we’re walking into their trap, aren’t we?”

               Hazel stared at Leo, her mouth opening and closing like a muted fish. However, finally, she managed to shrill; “We have no choice!”

               The son of Hephaestus spread his fingers, his expression wincing. “Don’t get me wrong, Hazel, that’s your brother. But Nico … He knew about both camps, right?”

               She frowned at him. “Well—yes.”

               “He’s been going back and forth,” continued Leo, “and he didn’t tell either side.”

               On the other side of the table, Elisa’s eyes narrowed in on Leo. Instead of her eyes only twitching in annoyance, Abilene swore they flared angrily—like two vats of wine about to boil over. “That’s ironic coming from the guy who still hasn’t fully admitted to how he found Festus, or was willing to keep a huge secret from us—until he physically couldn’t. If you want to talk about ‘suspicious behavior,’ you’re not any better, Leo!”

               Leo sat back in his seat, a hurt expression coating his face. “That’s not—”

               Suddenly, Jason sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. He stared at Elisa, his expression grim. “Leo has a fair point, Elisa. He’s fair to wonder if we can trust the guy. I’m wondering the same thing myself—”

               Somehow, Elisa’s expression twisted more. “The guy?” she repeated, her voice growing louder. “His name’s Nico, Jason.”

               “O-okay. I should’ve used his name—”

               “You don’t know shit about him,” she continued, cutting Jason off mid-sentence. “Is it ‘cause Hades’s kid? I know your dad doesn’t trust even his own brothers—”

               Piper frowned at her friend, her expression boarding on surprise. “Elisa, you don’t—”

               “No, Piper. I do,” insisted Elisa, her voice scathing, even to the point it made Abilene flinch. The energy had clearly shifted in the room—not with electricity, the way it would if Jason had become upset. It was frenzied energy; uncontrollable. Elisa wasn’t a Roman demigod, but Abilene could clearly see the resemblance just between her and Bacchus—it made her wonder how similar Elisa and Dionysus were. “It’s a fair thing to wonder. To me, it is.” 

               Percy made a move to grab Elisa, however, she swiped his hand away, scowling at Jason and Leo. “You both know that if it had been any one of us that had gone to save Hera in that bronze jar, you wouldn’t question it. But ‘cause it’s Nico, you do.”

               Loudly and suddenly, she pushed her chair away. The sound of the legs dragging across the floor was the loudest thing in the room as she stood up. She made pointed glares at Leo and Jason, ignoring Percy reaching for her again, and stormed out of the mess hall, her half-eaten breakfast forgotten.

               The silence was palpable after that. It was so heavy, that Abilene felt herself sink into her chair with exhaustion. Bad sleep and having your skin tingle nervously as a daughter of Dionysus suddenly became angry was not a great way to start the morning. Admittedly, Abilene had already been wary around the girl for the mere connection of Dionysus—the stories of the God of Madness painted him exactly as that. But Percy clearly trusted Elisa, and that meant something to Abilene. And … well, to judge someone for who their parent was—Abilene had her fair share of that, and it never went in her favor, no matter how hard she tried.

               The silence rattled the room. Percy made moves to stand up, but Annabeth held a hand out to him in the sudden space Elisa had left behind. She shook her head at him, and he frowned back; however, the blonde won as Percy sank back into his seat, looking irked as he poked at the pancakes he hadn’t eaten just yet.

               Hazel took a deep breath, as if trying not to make the kind of scene Elisa had. “I … I don’t believe this,” she started, her voice trembling with the anger she couldn’t breathe away. “Nico’s my brother. He brought me back from the Underworld, and you …” she looked between Jason and Leo, where Leo shrunk even more under the stare, “don’t want to help him?”

               Frank laid a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not what they’re saying, Haze.” But he looked pointedly at Leo. “That’s not what they’re saying, right?”

               Leo blinked, looking incredibly hurt. He kept glancing at where Elisa had been sitting. “I—Look, guys. All I meant was—”

               But Jason raised a hand. His expression was stony, and Abilene got the feeling that Elisa’s words, whether true or not, had struck a rather nasty cord within the blond. “I remember Nico from Camp Jupiter. Now, I find out he also visited Camp Half-Blood. That does strike me as …” he shrugged, “a little shady. Do we really know where his loyalties lie? We just have to be careful.”

               Suddenly, the daughter of Pluto got to her feet. Her whole body was trembling. She pointed a shaky finger at Jason. Abilene had to move her chair to the right as a silver platter suddenly zoomed off the table and flew between her and Hazel, where it splattered scrambled eggs all over the wall. That, however, didn’t even shake Hazel out of her outrage. “You—the great Jason Grace. The praetor I looked up to. You were supposed to be fair—a good leader. And now you—you …” She stomped her foot, yelling; “Argh!”

               Then, she stormed out of the mess hall.

               "Ah, jeez …” mumbled Leo anxiously, picking at a groove within the wooden table. “I should go talk to them—”

               “Let them cool off, Leo,” advised Annabeth, her arms crossed over her chest. “They need time.”

               Abilene didn’t fail to notice the way the daughter of Athena pointedly looked at Percy as she said it. He, however, scoffed quickly and shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, as if he hated to agree she had a point regarding his girlfriend.

               Piper frowned at Leo and Jason, her brows knitting together. “You guys, that was cold of you to say.”

               Jason looked shocked, his mouth making a small O. “Cold? I’m being cautious! It’s not a slight against Nico, I’d say it about anyone who did that!”

               “And I’m not saying Elisa was right to say what she did,” countered Piper. “I’m saying Nico means a lot to her. And that he’s dying. And he’s Hazel’s brother, too. Just … give ‘em a few minutes to cool off.”

               Abilene frowned at her breakfast plate, which had a crack in the middle from Hazel’s anger. Some breakfast it had turned out to be. She knew Piper had a point, but Abilene still felt the need to go check on Hazel. She and Nico had started on an odd foot, but Hazel still held a lot of love, care, and respect for the boy for all he had done for her. To learn that very brother was dying, couldn’t be easy. From the way Piper spoke, it seemed that Elisa and Nico had a very intertwined past, too—to the point she was willing to snap at people she seemingly cared about. 

               From up above, through the many layers of building materials, Abilene heard a faint whirring sound—like a large drill shrilling through the air. It was a sound she had heard before, when she, Frank, and Leo visited the dragon head Festus. 

               Leo’s eyes flickered upwards at the faint noises. “Ah … that’s Festus. I’ve got him on autopilot, but we must be nearing Atlanta. I’ll have to get up there—uh …” he looked around the table with the remaining people, “assuming we know where to land.”

               Percy froze when all pairs of eyes turned to him. He paused, halfway through cutting a portion of his last pancake up. When he didn’t speak up with his ideas, Jason raised his eyebrows. “You’re Captain Salt Water,” remarked the blond. “Any ideas from the saltwater expert?”

               Abilene glanced at Jason silently from the corner of her eye. It almost sounded like resentment in his voice. Part of her wondered if he was still miffed about his and Percy’s duel back in Kansas. He had joked about it, but that was in the immediate aftermath. Who knows what he was thinking now that he had time to sit with the vague memories of the fight—maybe even to the point of a small grudge? You can’t put two demigods in a fight and not have them wondering which one was stronger, especially two demigods who were typically given leadership roles amongst their fellow peers.

               Percy stabbed at the pancake he had cut off. “I’m not sure,” he finally admitted. “Somewhere central, high up so we can get a good view of the city. Maybe a park with some woods? We don’t want to land a warship in the middle of downtown. I doubt even the Mist could cover something that huge.”

               Leo stood up quickly, nodding to the son of Poseidon. “On it,” he promised, racing out of the mess hall and for the stairs to Festus.

               Frank settled back in his chair, his posture rigid and unnatural. He probably felt the same way she did—the desire to check on Hazel, even though they knew she did need time alone. From the moment she had arrived at Camp Jupiter, and was welcomed into the Fifth Cohort, Abilene and Hazel had been close. It was easy to be close to a person like Hazel, who was so kind and caring—about everyone. She didn’t pick and choose who to care about. Abilene was sure Frank held Hazel in the same light. She was one of the first ones to welcome Frank to Camp Jupiter, and she was one of the ones fighting the hardest for him to feel welcomed in the Fifth Cohort. 

               Percy pointed a fork still covered in syrup at her and Frank. “When we land,” he started, “I’ll scout around in Atlanta. Frank, Abi—I could use your help.”

               Frank, however, didn’t look convinced. “You mean,” he took an almost resentful look around the room, “turn into a dragon again?” He sighed, his shoulder slumping. “Honestly, Percy, I don’t want to spend the whole quest being everyone’s flying taxi.”

               Percy shook his head. “No. I want you with me ‘cause you’ve got the blood of Poseidon. Maybe you can help me figure out where to find salt water. Besides, you’re good in a fight.”

               Frank seemed to take that compliment in stride, sitting up a little taller. “Okay—I mean, sure. I guess.”

               The corner of Percy’s mouth lifted as he noticed Frank’s subtle ways of accepting the praise in front of others. He looked at Abilene, and she nodded before he had to say anything. “I’ll be good on the ground. Yeah.”

               “And if you find Phorcys,” started Annabeth, dragging a finger along one of the grooves in the table, “your connection to Gaea could mean something to him. He’s a son of Gaea. It might give you an in.”

               Abilene tried not to feel resentful about the way Annabeth used the word “connection.” She knew the blonde didn’t mean it was an inherently bad thing, but to have any connection to Gaea wasn’t a good thing, either. “Yeah. I mean—no, yeah. I get that. Maybe. I dunno if Phorcys will exactly like the fact I’m not fighting for Gaea, though.”

               The daughter of Athena shrugged casually, as if that was a possibility she had already thought about. “Maybe, maybe not. He might not even be fighting for Gaea—but I doubt it.”

               “I’m going, too!” Coach Hedge spoke up. He looked up at Percy, as if daring him to argue with the satyr. “It involves monsters, and that means maybe some fighting. I’m tired of missing all the action!”

               Percy raised his eyebrows at the satyr, but after a shared look with Frank and Abilene, he only sighed. “Okay. Sure. This is going to be … a lot of fun.”

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Admittedly, Abilene wasn’t one for big cities—a concrete jungle, as New York City was famously referred to. She liked nature—the greenery, fresh air, constant buzz of animals, and the comforting feelings they all brought to her. For most of her life, it was all she had ever known. Helena, Montana was a bigger city for the state, but they only ever visited when they needed to for school or shopping; the Briars lived on the outskirts of Helena, on the farm while they worked for what they needed. It was pretty isolating, but Abilene had learned to love it. She liked the solitude, it helped her keep her mind straight.

               However, quickly and suddenly, the love for nature started souring. She knew why—the rise of Gaea and learning everything she had thought she knew was a total lie. But some part of her still couldn’t let it go—the love of nature. It had been part of her for so long, it was her. 

               The Argo II landed near the summit of a forested hill. Even from here, Abilene could smell the forest—the flowery blooms of southern magnolias, the fresh smell of grass, or even the heavy smell of dirt. Beyond the forest and to the left, there was a cluster of white buildings—like a museum or a university. They were nestled in a grove of pines. Below that and the Argo II, the city of Atlanta laid outwards and onwards—a cluster of brown and silver downtown skyscrapers, rising from what looked like an endless flat sprawl of highways, railroad tracks, houses, and green swathes of forest. 

               Abilene stood near the railing of the deck. Coach Hedge stopped nearby, taking a deep inhale of the morning air. “Ah, lovely spot!” He looked back, nodding approvingly. “Good choice, Valdez.”

               The black-haired boy shrugged casually. “Just picked a tall hill.” He pointed to the cluster of white buildings, adding, “Over there, that’s the presidential library—or something like that. That’s what Festus said, at least.”

               Coach Hedge shook his head adamantly. “I don’t know about that! But do you realize what happened on this hill? Frank Zhang—” he smacked the boy on the shoulder, making him jump in surprise, “you should know!”

               Frank eyed the satyr, rubbing the blooming red spot on his arm. “... I should?”

               Coach Hedge looked affronted with Frank. “A son of Ares stood here!”

               Frank looked over the satyr’s head and at Abilene, but she only shrugged back. “I’m Roman,” he ended up replying. “So … Mars, actually.”

               “Whatever! Famous spot in the American Civil War!”

               “I’m also Canadian.”

               “Whatever! General Sherman, Union leader. He stood on this hill watching the city of Atlanta burn. Cut a path of destruction all the way from here to the sea. Burning, looting, pillaging—now there was a demigod!”

               “Uh … okay, Coach Hedge. Burning, looting, pillaging—all very demigodly activities.”

               Abilene looked back to the city, wondering if Coach Hedge had brought up a fair point, even accidentally: Was this some sort of bad omen? For Romans and Greeks to be back in this city again after so many years? Many human civil wars had been furthered and made worse by the meddling of Greek and Roman demigods of those times. The American Civil War was made worse by the Romans and Greeks who had come into contact after so many years of being intentionally split apart. It didn’t seem like a wise move to go to a very city where a son of Ares had ordered an entire city be leveled by flames to go against the Romans.

               Percy frowned down at the city, stopping by the railing. “Anyway,” he quickly changed the subject, “let’s try and not burn down the city this time.”

               The satyr looked disappointed as he frowned at Percy. “But … Oh, all right. But where to?”

               Percy pointed toward downtown. “When in doubt, start in the middle.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

What Leo had called the presidential library turned out to be the Carter Center. And hitching a ride from there turned out to be easier than Abilene initially thought it would be—they asked some of the staff if they could call a taxi, or just give them directions to the nearest bus stop. Before they even resorted to asking the mortals, Percy had considered summoning Blackjack; however, one nervous exchange between him and Abilene quickly shut that idea down. Both of them were too reluctant to ask the pegasus for help so soon after their last encounter, and the disaster it turned out to be. She didn’t even have to ask if Frank was willing—for what he said back on the Argo II, but the way he already shook his head just as Percy was looking his way.

               So, mortal travel it was. Abilene thought it would be nice for a change.

               One of the librarians, whose name turned out to be Esther, insisted on driving them personally. The insistence and pure niceness radiating from the woman made Abilene worry that she was some monster in disguise; however, Hedge pulled all the demigods back as she led them out of the Carter Center to whisper that she did smell human. ( “With a hint of potpourri,” he added, sniffing the air with his nose raised. “Cloves. Rose petals. Oo—tasty!” )

               The four piled into Esther’s big, black Cadillac—Coach Hedge snagged the front passenger seat, forcing the others to share the back, with Abilene sitting in between Frank and Percy. The drive into downtown Atlanta was almost as informative as it was scary. Esther was so short that she could hardly see over the steering wheel—but that didn’t seem to bother her. She muscled the Cadillac through heavy traffic, all the while, regaling them with stories about the crazy families of Atlanta—the founders of Coca-Cola, the sports stars, and the CNN news anchors. 

               She sounded so knowledgeable, even if those stories weren’t the information they needed. ( But they were quite entertaining to Abilene. ) She seem to know so much, she might even know about what they came to the city for.

               Percy cleared his throat, shifting in his seat so he could lean forward beside Abilene. “So—uh—Esther, here’s a hard question for you: saltwater in Atlanta. What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

               The elderly lady chuckled, looking in her rearview mirror at them. “Oh, sugar. That’s easy—whale sharks!”

               Percy looked at Frank and Abilene, his brows pinching together in confusion. Abilene leaned forward, tugging at the seatbelt around her. “Whale sharks?” repeated Abilene. “Those are in—Atlanta?”

               Esther smiled, the skin around her eyes crinkling with humor. “At the aquarium, hon. Very famous! Right downtown, too. Is that where you wanted to go?”

               Abilene considered it for a moment. An aquarium in Georgia wouldn’t be the first place she’d look for any god, especially one that was all for the sea the way Phorcys is—but it was their best lead yet.

               Percy nodded at Esther, saying; “Yeah. That’s where we’re going.”

               There was already a line forming at the main entrance by the time Esther dropped the four off. Before she left, she insisted on giving them her cell phone number ( in case of any emergencies, she told them ), money for a taxi ride back to the Carter Center, and a jar of homemade peach preserves—which, for some reason, she kept in the trunk of her car in a cardboard box. Frank stuck the jar in his backpack carefully, thanking Esther along the way. She had already switched from calling him sugar to son. 

               As she drove away, disappearing into the busy Atlanta traffic, Frank asked; “Are all people in Atlanta this nice?”

               Hedge grunted, sniffing his nose at the jar of peach preserves in Frank’s backpack ( who quickly jerked it away from him with a frown ). “Hope not. I can’t fight them if they’re nice. That’s just wrong.” He turned away from the street and to the aquarium. “Let’s go beat up some whale sharks. They sound dangerous!”

               Abilene pursed her lips. She didn’t know how to break it to him that out of all sharks, whale sharks were one of the most peaceful. Instead, she settled for; “How ‘bout we don’t commit animal cruelty here? I don’t think the employees will like that …”

               “We’ll just fight them, too!”

               She decided better than to argue this time.

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

The odd thing about being half-mortal, half-god ( or just one of the odd things ), was forgetting how mortals do things—especially if a lot of time was spent where mortals couldn’t go, like Camp Jupiter. Maybe stupidly, Abilene had forgotten all about paying to enter places like this, or that she even might have to stand behind huddles of traveling families or kids from summer camp.

               Seeing the elementary kids in their matching T-shirts from various summer day camps caused Abilene a twinge of sadness. She had never gotten to go to any of the summer camps around Helena before she left her dad’s, but it reminded her of Camp Jupiter—the matching shirts, especially. Such a simple thing created such a lifeline that the people there, at Camp Jupiter, with her knew all she had gone through—because they had gone through it too. Now, that she was shed of that purple T-shirt ( mostly cause it was ripped and dirty after what went down in New Rome ), it reminded her—even if she wore the same purple shirt, many of those campers wouldn’t view her with that connection she did. All because of Gaea. Camp Jupiter had been her home since she was thirteen, and for something completely out of her control, she had lost it. 

               Suddenly, Percy sighed. He looked away from the elementary kids and to the Georgia Aquarium. “Well … I guess we wait in line. Anybody have money?”

               Frank patted down his pockets. “Uh … three denarii from Camp Jupiter. Five dollars—Canadian.”

               Coach Hedge stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling out his finds. “Three quarters, two dines, a rubber band, and—score! Celery!” 

               Abilene’s expression twisted with some revulsion as the satyr started munching on the celery. As he chewed, Coach Hedge started eyeing the change and rubber band—like they might be next on the snack menu.

               Percy watched the satyr with the same apprehension. “Great …”

               As it turns out, his pockets ended up being completely barren—except for Riptide, his magical sword that could conceal itself as a ballpoint pen when not in use. Truth be told, Abilene didn’t exactly want to pat down her pockets. If she did, and if Hedge thought she found something, then she’d have to pull out the charred piece of wood Frank had trusted her with; the piece of wood that was his lifeline. It meant a lot he even trusted her with it, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t constantly worried—her mind constantly flitted back to the fact she was carrying around what was decreed to be his lifeline by Juno.

               The line inched forward bit by bit, kids chattering loudly as the parents or camp chaperones tried to keep them under control—until a woman in a blue-and-green Georgia Aquarium shirt came up to the four, smiling brightly.

               “Ah! VIP visitors!” she greeted loudly, earning some looks from nearby visitors. She had perky, dimple cheeks, thick-framed glasses, braces, and frizzy black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had to be in her mid-to late-twenties, but the way she looked and dressed made her look younger at first glance. Along with her Georgia Aquarium polo shirt, she wore dark slacks and black sneakers—typical employee uniforms. She bounced on the balls of her feet as she walked for them like she couldn’t contain her energy. Abilene had to squint to read her name tag—Kate.

               Kate stopped in front of the four, ignoring the staring guests. “You have your payments, I see …” she noticed, taking a look at the random assortment of change in Coach Hedge and Frank’s hands. “Excellent!”

               Percy blinked at the woman. “What?”

               Kate scooped the three denarii out of Frank’s outstretched palm, and he flinched. “Yes, that’s fine. Right this way!”

               Instead of waiting for them to reply, she spun on the balls of her feet. Still bouncing as she walked, she trotted off toward the main entrance. Waiting guests stared in bewilderment and slight envy. Abilene was sure it had to be an odd scene—the four, out-of-place-looking group gets this VIP treatment from an employee, who had easily ignored everyone else. It surely didn’t help that none of them were kids.

               Percy looked at the others. “A trap?”

               Frank nodded. “Probably.”

               “Has to be,” agreed Abilene.

               Coach Hedge turned up his nose again, sniffing at the air. “She’s not mortal. Probably some sort of goat-eating, demigod-destroying mortal fiend from Tartarus.”

               “You don’t have to sound excited,” remarked Abilene, frowning at the satyr.

               However, Coach Hedge only grinned back. “It’s awesome. Let’s go.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

The non-mortal employee was playing a long game as the VIP treatment didn’t stop just inside the entrance door. Perhaps that was because mortals were still milling about. Inside the doors, Kate got the four past the ticket queue, excitedly leading them into the aquarium with no problems ( except for the confused glances of Kate’s fellow employees and miffed, waiting customers ). 

               Kate grinned back at them, bouncing as she walked. “Right this way,” she instructed. “It’s a wonderful exhibit. You won’t be disappointed. So rare we get VIPs.”

               Frank nervously tugged at the shoulder strap of his backpack. “You mean … demigods?” He whispered the last word to her, glancing around to see if any mortals may have heard him.

               Kate winked at him impishly, putting a finger to her mouth in a Not too loud motion. “So over here is the cold-water experience, with your penguins and beluga whales and whatnot. And over there …” She pointed to the opposite side of the cold-water experience. “Well, those are some fish—obviously.”

               Abilene didn’t know too much about sealife and its fishes, but neither did Kate, seemingly. She could name the more well-known animals like beluga whales, but as they came across small fish that Abilene didn’t even know the name of, Kate seemed stumped—but not bothered by it, like she didn’t really care to learn. They passed one huge tank filled with all sorts of tropical-looking species ( to Abilene’s best guess ), and when Frank pointed to a particular fish and asked what it was, Kate told him; “Oh, those are the yellow ones.”

               ( Under his breath, Percy mumbled; “No shit …” Abilene elbowed him in the side. )

               Eventually, Kate led them past a gift shop. But Frank slowed down, making Abilene slow down. He wandered inside, checking out a messy-looking clearance table stacked with clothes and toys.

               Kate took notice, telling him; “Take what you want!”

               Frank looked up, blinking owlishly at her. “Really?”

               She nodded. “‘Course! You’re a VIP!”

               He hesitated for a brief moment—then, he was stuffing some half-folded T-shirts in his backpack. 

               Percy looked on bewildered. “Dude, what are you doing?” he asked loudly, making some other customers look over.

               Frank shushed him, stuffing another T-shirt into his backpack quickly. “She said I could. Besides, I need more clothes. I didn’t pack for a long trip!”

               Abilene looked from Frank and back to the clearance table. He was right—with the way things happened back at Camp Jupiter, she didn’t have time to pack anything, especially considering there was a chance they would never be going back to Camp. Quickly, she snagged a couple of shirts for herself, stuffing them inside the backpack. Frank didn’t care to take notice, adding a snow globe to the stash. Then, Frank picked up a braided cylinder about the length of a finger.

               He paused, turning the hollow cylinder over in his hands. “What is—?”

               “Chinese handcuffs,” answered Percy.

               Frank faltered again, frowning deeply at the word Chinese. He looked almost offended. “How is this Chinese?”

               “It’s a gag gift, Frank,” explained Abilene. “It’s just what they call it. I’d get ‘em all the time as a kid.”

               “You guys!” Kate called from the wide-open entrance to the gift shop. “Come along.”

               Frank frowned at the gag gift, his brows knitting together. Percy patted him on the shoulder, saying; “We’ll show you later.”

               Frank looked at the two for a moment, then—he quickly stuffed the finger trap into his backpack. The three hurried out of the gift shop, trailing after Coach Hedge and Kate through the Georgia Aquarium. Kate led them further into the aquarium, with guests becoming less and less common—Abilene felt the bud of anxiety start to bloom bit by bit as she walked. They were walked into an acrylic tunnel by Kate, and Abilene saw fish swimming overhead without a care in the world. It was gorgeous, but she had to remind herself that Kate was a threat. Coach Hedge had already detected that she wasn’t human. Any minute, when all the mortals were not around, she would turn into some horrible creature and attack them. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem much of a choice but to play along with her VIP tour—until they could find the Sea God Phorcys, that is.

               Eventually, they emerged into a viewing room that was awash with blue light. On the other side of a glass wall was the biggest aquarium tank Abilene had ever seen. Huge fish were cruising around in circles aimlessly, including two spotted sharks, both easily twice the length of Abilene. They were large and slow, with open mouths and no teeth.

               Coach Hedge’s eyes lightened up when he spotted the sharks. “Whale sharks,” he greeted, sounding pleased to have found what he thought was his opponent. “Now we shall battle to death!”

               Kate let out a small laugh. “Silly satyr. Whale sharks are peaceful. They only eat plankton.”

               Abilene stared at the employee. Coach Hedge had said she wasn’t human, but how could she know he was a satyr? He was wearing pants and specially fitted shoes that covered his hairy legs and goat-like hooves, with a baseball cap covering his horns—the way they normally did to blend in and hide in the mortal world. The bud of anxiety had fully bloomed now. The more Kate giggled, the more Abilene’s anxiety lurched in her stomach.

               Coach Hedge, however, didn’t seem fazed by Kate’s knowledge. “Peaceful sharks?” he repeated, disgust clear in his voice. “What’s the point of that?”

               Frank stepped closer, reading the plague in front of the glass tank. “The only whale sharks in captivity in the world …” he mused, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s kind of amazing.”

               Abilene frowned to herself. It was amazing to learn about nature and its animals, but she never quite liked the idea of keeping them captive. She supposed most of that had to do with her own fear of being trapped in places. She preferred the wide-open parts of nature compared to the cramped, tiny aspects of nature like caves. 

               Kate nodded. “Yes, and these are small. You should see some of my other babies out in the wild.”

               Frank quickly frowned at the woman. “Babies …?” he repeated.

               Judging by the wicked glint in Kate’s eye, Abilene was sure that she meant to use the word babies—and that she didn’t want to meet these so-called babies. 

               Percy stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants, probably grabbing ahold of Riptide. “So, Kate,” he started. “we’re looking for a guy—I mean, a god. His name’s Phorcys. You know him?”

               Kate snorted at his question. “Know him? He’s my brother. That’s where we're going, sillies. The real exhibits are right through here.”

               She gestured to the far right wall with one hand. Suddenly, the solid black surface rippled—a dark tunnel appeared, leading through to a luminous purple tank on the other side. Kate strolled into the dark tunnel, not once looking back to see if the others were following. The last thing Abilene wanted to do was follow, but if Phorcys was really on the other side ( and he had the information they needed for their quest … )

               As soon as they exited the tunnel on the other side, the five spilling into the room bathed in purple, Coach Hedge whistled loudly. “Now that’s interesting.”

               Gliding above them in the water were huddles of multicolored jellyfish. They were the size of trash cans, with hundreds of tentacles shooting out from their bodies that looked like silky barbed water in the purple water. One jellyfish had a paralyzed ten-foot-long swordfish tangled in its grasp. Abilene winced as the jellyfish slowly wrapped its tendrils around the prey, tighter and tighter. 

               Kate beamed at Coach Hedge. “You see? Forget the whale sharks! There’s much more.”

               She soon led them into an even larger chamber, lined with even larger aquariums. On one wall, a glowing sign proclaimed in red, neon letters: DEATH IN THE DEEP SEAS! Sponsored by Monster Donut. It took Abilene a couple of tries to really read the sign with her dyslexia, and then it took a minute for the words to sink in. She focused more on the “Death in the Deep Seas” part, however, Percy seemed rattled by the inclusion of “Monster Donut.”

               He looked at Kate sharply. “Monster Donut?” he asked, his eyebrows raising into his hairline.

               “Oh, yes.” Kate nodded. “One of our sponsors.”

               Abilene frowned at the son of Poseidon oddly, trying to figure out why he wanted to ask about Monster Donut of all things. However, he only shook his head in an I’ll tell you later manner when they locked eyes.

               In one aquarium were a dozen of hippocampi—horses with the tails of fish—that drifted around aimlessly. She had never seen hippocampi in the wild before, but she had heard stories and she had seen artistic depictions of them—nothing she had ever seen and heard before made them sound this … lifeless. They floated around, occasionally bonking their bodies against the glass—but it didn’t faze them at all. It was like they weren’t even aware of where they were. Their minds seemed addled with something.

               Percy stopped in front of the hippocampi, frowning deeply. “This isn’t right …”

               Abilene turned away from the tank, looking to the other side of the room—and she wished she hadn’t. At the bottom of a much smaller tank sat two Nereids—female sea spirits—that sat cross-legged, facing each other, and playing a game of Go Fish. Like the hippocampi, they looked incredibly bored with where they were. Their long, green hair floated listlessly around their faces. Their eyes were half closed as they shuffled brightly-colored Go Fish cards.

               Percy’s face twisted with anger. He stomped away from the tanks, heading right for Kate. “How can you keep them—here?”

               However, Kate deeply misunderstood Percy’s anger. “I know …” she sighed sadly, frowning at a hippocampus turning in slow circles. “They aren’t very interesting. We tried to teach them some tricks, but no luck, I’m afraid. I think you’ll like this tank over here much better.”

               Percy opened his mouth to protest, but Kate was already moving on. Abilene had to hook her arm with Percy’s to keep him moving. She didn’t like it either, but this was their best ( and only ) lead for their quest.

               Suddenly, Coach Hedge cried; “Holy mother of goats! Look at these beauties!”

               Abilene didn’t see it, but Coach Hedge enjoyed the more … aggressive and scary parts of nature compared to her. It was two sea serpents he was gawking at—thirty-foot-long monsters with glowing blue scales and jaws that could have bitten a whale shark in half. In another tank, peeking out from its cement cave, was a squid the size of an eighteen-wheeler, with a beak like a giant bolt cutter. In a third tank held a dozen humanoid creatures—they had sleek, seal-like bodies, dog-like faces, and human hands. They sat on the sand at the bottom of the tank, building things out of large Legos; however, these creatures looked just as dazed as Nereids.

               Percy opened and closed his mouth wordlessly at them. “Are-are those—?”

               “Telkhines?” Kate finished for him. “Yes! The only ones in captivity!”

               “But they fought for Kronos in the last war!” he protested. “They’re dangerous!”

               Kate rolled her eyes at him. “Well, we couldn’t call it ‘Death in the Deep Seas’ if these exhibits weren’t dangerous. Don’t worry. We keep them well sedated.”

               Frank’s eyes widened. “Sedated?” he repeated. “Is that even legal?”

               Kate appeared to not have heard him—or she was good at tuning people out. She turned on her heels, still bouncing with each step, as she continued to talk. She pointed out other exhibits she thought looked interesting and dangerous enough to talk about, but Abilene lingered in the back. She glanced back at the telkhines’s tank. One of the obviously younger telkhines was trying to make a sword out of Legos; however, his brain was too addled by the sedatives that he could hardly put the pieces together, let alone make a sword. She remembered them from the fight against Krios on Mount Othrys, a memory she didn’t want to relive, but now she just felt sorry for these sea demons. No one deserved captivity like this. 

               “And these sea monsters,” Kate narrated up ahead, making Abilene jog after them, “can grow five hundred feet long in the deep ocean. They have over a thousand teeth. And these? Their favorite food is demigod—”

               Frank faltered in his step, tripping over his own feet. “Demigods?” he yelped as he rightened himself back onto both feet.

               “But they will eat whales or small boats, too,” added Kate, as if that made the information any better. She turned back around to face them, spotting the apprehensive faces of Frank, Abilene, and Percy; she blushed. “Sorry … I’m such a monster nerd! I’m sure you know all this, Percy, being the son of Poseidon and all.”

               Percy went rigid beside Abilene. She flexed her hands, wishing she had enough sense to bring Viridis with her. She hadn’t, knowing they were venturing into a city filled with mortals—one wrong move, suddenly she and the Mist's interpretation of the sword would be snapshotted onto a newspaper in black and white. Kate wasn’t human, but even then, she just knew too much about them: that Coach Hedge was a satyr, that they were demigods, that Percy was a son of Poseidon. 

               “Who are you?” demanded Percy, scowling at Kate. “Does Kate stand for something?”

               Kate frowned at Percy, looking confused. “Kate …?” she repeated, glancing down at her name tag. Then, her eyes widened and she laughed slightly. “Oh! No, it’s—”

               “Hello!” a new voice greeted, booming through the aquarium.

               From the darkness, a small man scuttled out. At first, Abilene thought it was a trick of the light, but then, she got a closer look—he walked sideways on bowed legs like a human-sized and shaped crab. His back was hunched, and his arms were raised on either side of him like he was holding invisible platters. He wore a wet suit that was several horrible shades of green. On it, glittery silver words were printed down the side and read: PORKY’S FOLLIES. A headset microphone was clamped over his greasy, wiry hair. His eyes were this milky blue, with one a lighter shade than the other. Though he smiled, he didn’t look friendly—it was more like his face was being peeled back in a gigantic wind tunnel.

               “Visitors!” he greeted, the word thundering through the microphone and into Abilene’s ears. He had a DJ’s voice—deep and resonant, but it didn’t match his appearance at all. “Welcome to Phorcy’s Follies!”

               He swept his arms in one direction, as if directing their attention to something spectacular—but nothing happened. He swept his hands dramatically again, turning his body as he did so. But, again, nothing happened.

               “Curse it …” he grumbled. “Telkhines, that’s your cue! I wave my hands, and you peal—energetically—in your tank, do a synchronized double spin, and land in a pyramid formation. We practiced this!”

               Throughout all of this, the telkhines had paid the man no attention at all. It was like they couldn’t even hear him.

               Coach Hedge leaned toward the crab man, taking in a dramatic sniff of the glittery wet suit. “Nice outfit,” he complimented.

               Abilene curled her nose. She wanted to believe he was kidding, but she hadn’t seen the satyr in anything but gym uniforms since she met him.

               The man beamed at Coach Hedge. “Thank you! I am Phorcys.”

               Frank shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the words on the wet suit. “Why does your suit say Porky, then?”

               Phorcys snarled, wiping furiously at the words on his wet suit. “Stupid uniform company! They can’t get anything right!”

               Kate tapped her name tag, bringing the attention back to her. “I told them my name was Keto. They misspelled it as Kate. My brother …” She looked at Phorcys and shrugged. “Well, now he’s Porky.”

               “I am not! I’m not even a little porky. The name doesn’t work with Follies, either. What kind of show is called Porky’s Follies?” He turned from Kate to the demigods, making them flinch back. “But you folks don’t want to hear us complain, I bet. Behold, the wondrous majesty of the giant killer squid!”

               He gestured theatrically up toward the large squid tank. This time, something did happen—fireworks shot off in front of the glass right on cue, sending up geysers of golden sparkles. Suddenly, music was coming from overhead speakers, swelling to help the moment. The lights brightened, revealing—the wondrous majesty of an … empty tank. The squid had apparently decided it was best to sulk back into is cave rather than be used as entertainment.

               “Curse it!” Phorcys yelled again. He wheeled around, pointing a meaty finger at his sister. “Keto, training the squid was your job. Juggling, I said. Maybe a bit of flesh-rending for the finale. Is that too much to ask?”

               Keto scowled at the Sea God. “He’s shy, Porky. Besides, each of his tentacles has sixty-two razor-like barbs that have to be sharpened—daily.” She turned on the balls of her feat to face Frank, whe took a step back. “Did you know the monstrous squid is the only beast known to eat demigods whole, armor and all, without getting indigestion? It’s true!”

               With each word she sprouted off, Frank took small steps back—until he bumped into Abilene, who grabbed him by the elbow to keep steady.

               “Keto!” Phorcys snapped—literally, since he clicked his fingers to his thumbs like crab claws. “You’ll bore our guests with so much information. Less education, more entertainment! We’ve discussed this.”

               She frowned. “But—”

               “No buts! We’re here to present ‘Death in the Deep Seas!’” He quickly looked at the four VIPS. “It’s sponsored by Monster Donut!”

               His last words, Monster Donut, reverberated through the room with an extra echo. Abilene didn’t know if it was an added effect, or if he was just that loud. Overhead, lights flickered and flashed. Smoke clouds billowed from the floor, making donut-shaped rings that made the room smell like a donut shop.

               The god grinned at the working special effects, seemingly happy one was working in his favor. “Available at the concession stand. But you’ve spent your hard-earned denarii to get the VIP tour, and so you shall! Come with me!” 

               “Uh—hold it,” started Percy.

               Phorcys’s smile melted—in an ugly, jarring manner. “Yes?”

               He pointed at Phorcys. “You’re a sea god, aren’t you? Son of Gaea?”

               Abilene shifted on her feet nervously. Annabeth had brought up the fact that Phorcys was a son of Gaea, and that it might be a valuable connection to make between her and him—something to cling onto in hopes of getting any sort of answers. But now, after seeing Phorcys, Abilene wanted to high tail and run.

               The god sighed. “Five thousand years, and I’m still known as Gaea’s little boy. Never mind that I’m one of the oldest sea gods in existence.” He looked pointedly at Percy, saying; “Older than your upstart father, by the way. I’m God of the Hidden Depths! Lord of Watery Terrors! Father of a Thousand Monsters! But, no …” His shoulders sagged. “Nobody ever knows me. I make one little mistake, supporting the Titans in their war, and I’m exiled from the ocean—to Atlanta of all places.”

               Keto stepped in, adding; “We thought the Olympians said Atlantis. Their idea of a joke, I guess, sending us here instead.”

               Percy’s eyes narrowed on her next. “And you’re a goddess?”

               She smiled happily. “Keto, yes! Goddess of Sea Monsters, naturally! Whales, sharks, squids, and other giant sea life—but my heart has always belonged to the monsters. Did you know that young sea serpents can regurgitate the flesh of their victims and keep themselves fed for up to six years on the same meal? It’s true!”

               Frank’s face churned at the news, and he held his stomach like he was going to be sick.

               Coach Hedge’s eyebrows raised underneath the cap of his hat. He looked almost excited. “Six years? That’s fascinating!”

               Keto’s smile seemed to brighten. “I know!”

               “How exactly does a killer squid rend the flesh from its victims?” pried Hedge, looking at the goddess curiously. “I love nature.”

               “Coach Hedge!” complained Abilene. “Why would you want to know that?”

               The satyr frowned at her. “Don’t start with me, Abilene—”

               At the sound of her name, Phorcys looked at her, his bulging eyes scanning her once, then twice. Keto looked at her brother pointedly, and Abilene got the feeling her name was a common discussion between the two siblings. Of course it would be—she was a child of Gaea, like them. 

               The Sea God shifted like a crab, looking at her closer. “Ah, you’re Gaea’s demigod. I thought you’d be more … well, more.”

               Abilene frowned at him, part of her offended. “Excuse me?”

               “Look at me, Abilene!” Phorcys gestured to himself, his claw-like hands clacking. “I catch people’s eyes! You … well, you blend in. Not that it’s a bad thing. But isn’t it better to catch attention?”

               Percy curled his top like at the god. “Yeah, you catch eyes all right …” he murmured under his breath. 

               Phorcys, however, didn’t seem to hear him ( or was choosing to ignore him ). He opened his mouth to say more, but Keto beat him to the punch. She slipped between Frank and Abilene, smiling at the brunette. “We’ve heard a lot about you! I mean—”

               “Stop!” Phorcys demanded, scowling at his sister. “You’re ruining the show, Keto! We haven’t made it to that part yet. Now—” he whirled around, facing the Nereids’ tank, “witness our Nereid gladiators fight to the death!”

               A mirrored disco ball descended into the Nereid exhibit, making the water dance with multicolored lights. Two swords fell from the top, slowly sinking through the water—until they plunked right into the sand soundlessly. The Nereids ignored it all, continuing to play a round of Go Fish.

               Phorcys stomped his legs sideways. “Curse it!”

               Keto grimaced, trying to share a tired look with Abilene, who only blinked back. “Don’t mind Porky. He’s such a windbag. Come with me,” she linked an arm with Coach Hedge and grabbed Abilene by the arm with her other hand, “my fine friends. I’ll show you full-color diagrams of the monsters’ hunting habits.”

               Abilene grimaced, trying to pry Keto’s hands off her arms; however, the goddess had a stone-like grip. She exchanged panicked looks with Frank, quickly realizing that Keto thought that some weird, sisterly bond could be forged between the two.

               Coach Hedge looked elated at the prospect. “Excellent!”

               Frank made moves to grab Abilene, but Keto whisked her and Coach Hedge away. Soon, they were getting lost in a maze of aquarium glass, with the Goddess of Sea Monsters leading them right through the tanks of her little babies.

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter thirteen

━━ FRANK WAS QUICKLY learning many things. One; monsters and gods didn’t blend in as well with the mortal world as much as they would like to believe. ( Perhaps Frank should learn that maybe the mythical beings didn’t want to blend in that well judging by the way it seemed that Phorcys didn’t even try to look at least a little bit human. ) Two; some goddesses ( or gods, he supposed ) were weirdly sentimental. He figured they would all take on the out-for-demigod-blood-and-meat façade, but Keto was oddly sweet to Abilene. ( But then his brain also thought that perhaps Keto thought there was still a chance that Abilene would still turn—but there was absolutely no chance of that happening! ) Three; when you go on a quest with somebody, quickly having to escape what was supposed to be a home for demigods like them, you’re not exactly keen on letting them out of your sight—especially while in the grasp of some monster-goddess (even if that goddess was technically Abilene’s half-sister ). 

               Admittedly, there could have been four, five, and even six other things he quickly learned—but panic seized him by the chest too hard for him to try and think of any more things. He quickly reached out for Abilene, trying to grab her other arm, and to pull her away from Keto and back to him—but she, the goddess, and the goat-brained ( scarily aggressive ) Coach Hedge disappeared around a dark corner of the back part of the aquarium. Just vaguely, he could hear Keto sprouting off a bunch of sea monster facts, all of which Coach Hedge awed and oohed over, but Frank couldn’t hear Abilene. He didn’t know if it was just because Hedge and Keto were so loud, or if it was because she was trying to find a way back without setting off any Keto’s alarm bells. 

               Frank roughly swallowed, trying not to choke back his tongue, which felt like it had swelled twice its size in a matter of seconds. He quickly took the spot next to Percy, feeling sweat build up on his palms and bead across his hairline. He fought the urge to reach for his bow, exchanging a nervous look with the son of Poseidon. Unwillingly, the four from the Argo II had taken on a divide-and-conquer strategy. Not to jinx themselves any worse than they already had been, but Frank had no idea how any part of this situation could end up in their favor. He saw Percy reaching for his pants pocket, where Riptide was—but Frank quickly grabbed his upper arm, shaking his head. With the way Phorcys was watching them, they had no chance of the element of surprise. More importantly, they hadn’t gotten any useful information out of this god—yet, that is. And once they did (Frank was trying to be positive here), they would hightail it out of the aquarium—along with Abilene and Coach Hedge.

               If they could find the exit, that is. 

               ( No, Frank, he reminded himself. Bad thoughts only lead to bad solutions. You’ll find the exit. Most importantly, with Abilene and some answers from Phorcys. )

               Phorcys looked the two boys over, his thick eyebrows knitting together ever-so-slightly, creating a thick wrinkle between them. “Oh, it’s fine!” he assured them, waving his claws passively. “Keto might be a little boring, but she’ll take good care of your friends.” He put his claw by his mouth, quieting his voice to add, like it was some secret; “Especially Gaea’s little demigod. Can’t risk anything happening to her.”

               Panic seized Frank by the throat instead of just his chest. “What do you mean by that? What about Abilene?”

               “All in due time!” replied Phorcys, quickly evading Frank’s interrogations. “The best part of the tour is still yet to come! C’mon, hurry up! We don’t have all day. The aquarium has strict business hours, you know.”

               Rather reluctantly, Frank and Percy followed after Phorcys—further into the aquarium, and further away from any sign of mortal presence. Frank tried not to focus on it, it was only making his panic worse. But the heavy silence settling over the three allowed room for a lot of worries to bloom: What if they don’t find Abilene and Coach Hedge? What if they can’t find him and Percy? What if Phorcys traps them? What if they can’t get any information out of Phorcys? What if they can’t find an exit—

               Percy’s voice was the thing to burst the bubble of Frank’s consuming worries. “So …” he took one large look around the hallway basked in lights reflecting through water, “Dionysus sent us here.” 

               Frank looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Bacchus.”

               From the corner of Percy’s eye, he gave Frank a rather nasty look—whether he intended to or not, Frank didn’t know. “Right … The Wine God. Whatever.” Frank grimaced to himself, wondering how Bacchus felt that this was who his daughter was dating and the sour look that Percy just gave him. Percy pursed his lips, looking back to Phorcys. “Bacchus said you might know what your mom—you know, Gaea—is up to, and these twin giant brothers of yours—Ephialtes and Otis. And if you happen to know anything about this Mark of Athena—”

               Phorcys frowned at them. “Bacchus thought I would help … you?”

               Frank glanced at his friend nervously. He didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that was never even a thought that had crossed Phorcys’s mind.

               Percy blinked for a moment. “Well … yeah.” But he quickly straightened his posture, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. “I mean, you’re Phorcys. Everybody talks about you!”

               Frank glanced from his friend to the god. He didn’t have to have gone on a quest with the son of Poseidon previously ( it’s a wonderful bonding experience; really brings people together ) to know where Percy was going with this.

               The God of Hidden Depths tilted his head to one side—almost so that his mismatched eyes were nearly lined together. “They do?”

               Percy nodded fervently. “Of course they do!” He nudged Frank in the side with his elbow, eyeing the son of Mars with a Don’t mess this up kind of look. “Don’t they, Frank?”

               “Oh, uh—” Frank quickly cleared his throat, rubbing the spot of pain from Percy’s bony elbow. “I mean, sure! Yes, they do. People talk about you all the time!”

               Phorcys perked up, trying to straighten the front of his wet suit. ( It didn’t work, like—at all. ) “What do they say?” he pried, curiosity heavily lacing his words.

               Frank shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. As the son of Mars, lying was never a given talent for him. Truthfully, he hated lying, even if it was for the best ( or to keep them alive ). “Well …” he looked off to one side, raking his brain for anything, “you have … great pyrotechnics! And a good announcer’s voice. And—uh—a … disco ball—?”

               Phorcys cut him off. “It’s true!” he agreed, though Frank wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing with. He clicked his fingers and thumbs together excitedly, much like a crab would. “I also have the largest collection of captive sea monsters in the world!”

               “And you know stuff,” added Percy, leaning forward ever-so-slightly as his eyes narrowed on the god. “Like about the twins and what they’re up to.”

               “The twins!” Phorcys’s voice echoed, causing Frank to jump slightly from the sheer volume. In front of the sea serpent tank, sparklers blazed to life—orange, yellow, and red sparks shot off in front of the glass, hardly jarring the inhabitants any. “Yes, I know all about Ephialtes and Otis—unfortunately for me … They’re just a bunch of wannabes! They’ve never fit in with the other giants. Too puny—and those snakes for feet. Horrible thing, really …”

               Percy’s confusion curled into one of disgust, as if recalling something dreadful. “Snakes for feet?”

               “Yes, yes. Keep up!” Phorcys replied impatiently. “Ephialtes and Otis—they knew they couldn’t get by on their strength alone. That’s why they decided to go for drama—illusions, stage tricks, that sort of thing. You see, Gaea shapedher giant children with specific enemies in mind. Each giant was born to kill a certain god. Ephialtes and Otis … Well, together they were sort of the anti-Dionysus.”

               Percy stared at the god, his jaw nearly going slack. “Anti-Dionysus? Dionysus, God of Madness?”

               Phorcys nodded. “Sort of. Together, they have enough power to rival the god.”

               “So …” the son of Poseidon’s eyebrows knitted together, and Frank got the feeling he was mulling over some pretty nasty ideas by the way his face twisted, “they just want to replace all the wine with—like—cranberry juice? Or something like that? … Right?”

               The God of Hidden Depths snorted loudly. “No, nothing like that! Ephialtes and Otis always wanted to do things better—flashier, more spectacular! Oh, of course—they wanted to kill Dionysus. But first, they wanted to humiliate him by making his revelries look tame!”

               Frank glanced at the sparklers in front of the sea serpent tank—they had long stopped going off by now, and all that was left were some faint scorch marks on the floor just around the base of the sparklers. He knew Bacchus and his Greek form were both gods of festivities and madness, so it wasn’t shocking news to learn that his giant counteracts were the same—wildcards to the point their second moves could never be guessed. “Like … by using stuff like fireworks and disco balls?” he asked Phorcys.

               The Sea God’s mouth stretched back into that wind tunnel-like smile. “Exactly! I taught the twins everything they know—at least, I tried to. They never listened. Their first big trick? They tried to reach Olympus by piling mountains on top of one another. It was just an illusion, ‘course. I told them that it was ridiculous. ‘You should start small,’ I said. ‘Sawing each other in half, pulling gorgons out of a hat. That sort of thing. And matching sequined outfits. Twins need those!’”

               “Right. Sure,” replied Percy in what could’ve been a passive manner. However, the way his eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes brewed like mini hurricanes, Frank knew that something was troubling him. “Say, Phorcys, how would Ephialtes and Otis feel about a … daughter of Dionysus? I know you said they want to humiliate him and want him dead, but—”

               “You’ve fought Polybotes, haven’t you, Son of Poseidon?” The god’s eyes twinkled like he knew exactly what Percy was trying to dance around. The prick of fear grew as Phorcys knew Percy was a son of the Greek Sea God—how he knew that, Frank had no idea. “That god, Terminus, had to help you kill him. It’s no shock to know that Ephialtes and Otis want anything related to Dionysus also dead.”

               Frank looked between his friend and the God of Hidden Depths. Percy looked like he had half a mind to jump for the god, either to strangle him or something even worse. He fully realized what Percy had been dancing around—Elisa, his girlfriend, was the daughter of Dionysus; Ephialtes and Otis, together, were supposed to be the anti-Dionysus. Phorcys made a great point that Polybotes stopped at nothing to try and kill Percy solely because Percy was the son of the god Polybotes was born to destroy. ( Not that Frank was going to say that aloud. He didn’t want Percy on his case for something that wasn’t his fault. ) He tried to lock eyes with Percy, but when he did, all he could get across was If you do that, we’re screwed!

               “Right,” sneered Percy, glowering at Phorcys. “So, the twins are—”

               “Oh,” Phorcys cut Percy off, “preparing for their doomsday show in Rome.” However, his face somehow twisted even more. “It’s one of Mother’s silly ideas. They’re keeping some prisoner in a large bronze jar.” He suddenly turned toward Frank, who fought the urge to back away. “You’re a child of Ares, aren’t you? You’ve got that smell. The twins imprisoned your father the same way once.”

               “Uh—child of Mars,” corrected Frank. “Hang on … those twin giants trapped my dad in a bronze jar? Wait—are you saying I smell?”

               “Yes, another stupid stunt,” replied the Sea God, rolling his eyes dramatically. “How can you show off your prisoner if he’s in a bronze jar? No entertainment value. Not like my lovely specimens!” He abruptly spun on the balls of his feet, gesturing wildly to the hippocampi—who were bonking their heads apathetically against the glass.

               Frank shook his head, trying to shake away the sudden addled feeling washing over him. It had to be the sea creatures—their muddled states were taking a toll on him, maybe because of his ancestry to Poseidon all those years ago.

               Percy closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He let it out just as fast, opening his eyes to look back at Phorcys. “You said this … this doomsday show was Gaea’s idea?”

               “Well …” Phorcys grimaced to himself, “Mother’s plans always have lots of layers.” But he quickly perked up, like he remembered he had a façade to keep up. “But the earth has layers! Many layers! I s’pose that makes sense why her plans have so many!”

               “Uh-huh …” Percy nodded slowly; however, he still looked like he’d rather try his luck by strangling the god. “And so her plan …”

               “Oh, she’s put out a general bounty on some group of demigods,” the God of Hidden Depths replied casually. However, Frank felt a prick of fear bubble its way back into his stomach. “She doesn’t really care who kills them, as long as they’re killed. Well,” he quickly reconsidered, tilting his head to one side, “I take that back. She was very specific that two must be spared. One boy and one girl. Tartarus only knows why. At any rate, the twins have their little show planned, hoping it will lure these demigods to Rome. I s’pose the prisoner in that jar is a friend of theirs or some such. That, or perhaps they think this group of demigods will be foolish enough to come into their territory searching for the Mark of Athena.” He elbowed Frank in the ribs, and he stumbled away, clutching his side ( and regretting standing so close to the god ). “Ha! Good luck with that one, eh?”

               Frank laughed nervously, feeling sweat build up on his palms. “Yeah. Ha-ha. That would be really dumb because,” he swallowed, “uh …”

               His mind blanked, and he found himself blinking owlishly at the god. Phorcys narrowed his eyes on the son of Mars. Beside him, Percy slipped his hand into his pocket—where Riptide must be. Phorcys clearly had some brains to him, he’ll eventually figure out they were the demigods with the bounty on their heads and not just your run-of-the-mill demigods.

               However, Phorcys’s narrowed eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled widely. He moved to elbow Frank again, who fought back a groan. “Ha! Good one, Child of Mars. I s’pose you’re right. No point talking about it. Even if the demigods found that map in Charleston, they’d never make it to Rome—let alone alive!”

               “Oh. Uh … yeah. You know, the map in Charleston,” Frank said, louder than he meant. However, he meant the very wide-eyed look he shot Percy’s way. He couldn’t have been more obvious, even if he held up a large sign that read CLUE, PERCY! CLUE RIGHT HERE!

               “But enough boring educational stuff!” Phorcys changed the topic, patting Frank on the shoulder. “You’ve paid for the VIP treatment. Won’t you please let me finish the tour? The three denarii entrance fee is nonrefundable, you know.”

               Admittedly, Frank wasn’t stoked about the tour—not the fireworks, donut-scented smoke ( it only made him miss breakfast and sitting with Abilene ), or the depressing, captive sea creatures. But he shared a glance with Percy, and they had come to a silent agreement: they could humor the crabby, old Sea God, at least, until they found Coach Hedge and Abilene, and made it safely to the exit. Besides, Frank figured, they might be able to squeeze a little more information out of Phorcys along the way.

               “Afterward,” started Percy, stopping Phorcys in his tracks, “can we ask questions?”

               “Of course!” agreed the God of Hidden Depths. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” He clapped his hands twice—on the wall, under the glowing red signs, a new tunnel opened up, leading into another tank. “Walk this way!”

               And Phorcys scuttled sideways to and then through the tunnel.

               Frank paused, watching with the absurdity that was the god’s walking. “I …” He turned sideways, glancing back at Percy. “That tunnel doesn’t look that small. Do we have to—?”

               Percy uncrossed his arms, grabbing Frank and pulling him along. “It was just a figure of speech, man. Surely you’ve got those in Canada.”

               “Oh. Ha-ha. Real funny, Percy.”

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

The tunnel ran underneath a tank the size of a gymnasium, in the very middle, with water all around them—only being held back by thick glass. It was majestic, even if it was empty of sea life and dotted with some cheap tank decorations here and there. Frank had to guess that there had to be about fifty thousand gallons of water behind the glass. If the tunnel were to shatter for some—for any—reason …

               He fought back a full-body shudder, but he was still scared. He couldn’t breathe underwater ( unlike Percy ), and he wasn’t entirely in the business of testing if his connection to Poseidon, faint or not, would help him in any way.

               Fear prickled along the back of his neck—like some pesky bug, bobbing and weaving around his hand as he went to scratch the back of his neck. He couldn’t focus on the apprehension and dread, it would only make him notice less. It would only make him not notice anything important; anything that Phorcys might slip up and say. It also might make him miss an opportunity to grab Abilene and run for the exit. But his heart was pounding—some part of him knew they had messed up by following Phorcys into this tunnel.

               But what other choice did they have?

               Phorcys suddenly stopped in his tracks in the middle of the tunnel. He spun around dramatically, spreading out his arms proudly. “Beautiful exhibit, isn’t it?”

               Frank tried to swallow his fear back down, taking a closer look around the large tank. In one corner of the tank, snuggled in a forest of fake kelp, was a life-sized, plastic gingerbread cottage—it had bubbles coming out of the chimney instead of smoke. In the opposite corner was a plastic sculpture of a guy in an old-fashioned diving suit, and he was knelt in front of a treasure chest. Every few seconds, the plastic lid to the chest would open—it would spew bubbles, and then it would sink back closed again. Littered across the white sand floor were glass marbles the size of bowling balls, and there was a strange assortment of weapons—like tridents and spearguns. Outside the tank’s display wall was an amphitheater with seating for several hundred people.

               Frank slowly looked back to Phorcys to ask; “What do you keep in here? Like … giant killer goldfish?”

               Phorcys raised his eyebrows at the son of Mars. “Oh, that would be good! But, alas, no, Frank Zhang, Descendant of Poseidon. This tank is not for goldfish.”

               All the fear and panic he had been trying to get rid of seemed to jumble up into one gigantic ball and knock him right in the chest—to the point Frank became winded from Phorcys’s words alone. He flinched, taking a step back as he grabbed onto his backpack. Truthfully, if he needed to swing it at the god’s head, he would gladly do it.

               Percy stepped forward, frowning at the God of Hidden Depths. “How d’you know Frank’s last name?” he demanded, sneering at Phorcys. “How do you know he’s descended from Poseidon?”

               “Well …” The god shrugged, doing his best to look modest. ( It didn’t work. He ultimately ended up looking like he had been caught unorganizing someone’s bookshelves—childish and bizarre. ) “It was probably in the descriptions Gaea provided. You know, for the bounty, Percy Jackson.”

               From the pocket of his pants, Percy ripped Riptide out in pen form, but with just one move of removing the cap—a Celestial bronze sword shimmered into existence, glinting blue light from the water surrounding them. “Don’t double-cross me, Phorcys. You promised me answers.”

               “After the VIP treatment, yes,” agreed Phorcys, wagging a finger at the son of Poseidon. “I promised to tell you everything you need to know. The thing is, however, you don’t really need to know anything.” His grotesque smile stretched wildly, making Frank’s skin crawl. “You see, even if you made it to Rome—which is quite unlikely—you’d never defeat my giant brothers without a god fighting at your side. And what god would help you? So I have a better plan: you’re not leaving. You’re VIPs—Very Important Prisoners!”

               In speedy tandem, Frank and Percy responded—the son of Poseidon lunged for the god while Frank unhooked his bag from his shoulder, using both hands to launch it for Phorcys’s ugly face. However, the God of Hidden Depths simply disappeared, leaving behind small whisps of blue smoke and the faint smell of donuts. 

               The god’s voice reverberated throughout the aquarium’s sound system, echoing loudly down the tunnel. “Yes, good! Fighting is good! You see, Mother never trusted me with big assignments, but she did agree that I could keep anything I caught. You two will make an excellent exhibit—the only demigod spawn of Poseidon in captivity. ‘Demigod Terrors,’ hm … Yes, I like that! We already have sponsorship lined up with Bargain Mart. You two can fight each other every day at eleven AM and one PM, with an evening show at seven PM.”

               Frank spun around, looking at all the water surrounding them. “You’re crazy!” he yelled up to Phorcys, wondering if the god could even hear him.

               “Don’t sell yourself short, Frank Zhang!” chided Phorcys with what sounded like a giddy tone. “You’ll be our biggest draw!”

               Frank looked at Percy, and the two had another silent exchange: Get the hell out of here. They both ran in opposite directions—but Frank ended up barreling shoulder-first into a glass wall. He rammed his shoulder in it again for good measure, but it didn’t crack, didn’t splinter, and didn’t give at all. Percy seemed to be having the same problem at the opposite end of the tunnel. Their tunnel had become a bubble—and bubbles were prone to bursting. Panic welled up inside his chest and he knew there was no swallowing it back down this time. He placed his hands against the glass—it was softening, melting like ice, slowly chipping away. Sooner rather than later, the water would come crashing in. Frank couldn’t breathe underwater but he could transform …

               From the opposite end, Percy shouted loud enough for the god to hear. “We won’t cooperate, Phorcys!”

               “Oh, I’m optimistic,” the Sea God’s voice chirped through the speakers, as if he was hardly listening to them. “If you won’t fight each other at first—no problem! I can send in fresh sea monsters every day. After you get used to the food here, you’ll be properly sedated and will follow directions. Believe me, you’ll come to love your new home.”

               Over their heads, Frank saw that the glass dome had started to crack and it had begun to leak onto the floor. He breathed in deeply through his nose, half wondering if this was the last time he’d ever get any sort of air. 

               “I’m the son of Poseidon!” Percy yelled and his face was hardened with determination. However, Frank could hear the smallest sliver of fear in his voice—something had really rattled Percy, only Frank didn’t know what. “You can’t imprison me in water. This is where I’m strongest!”

               Phorcys’s laugh seemed to echo all around them, like fifty forms of the god had them circled. “What a coincidence! It’s also where I’m strongest. This tank is specially designed to contain demigods. Now, have fun, you two. I’ll see you at feeding time! And while you two wait, I’ll go and see if I can have a little chat of my own with Gaea’s own demigod—talk some sense into her. Try and teach her a thing or two about families and tricks.”

               And then—the glass dome shattered, with shards of glass and water crashing over them.

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Frank panicked. Well, he panicked more than he was already freaking out. The divide-and-conquer strategy had turned out to be a fluke ( maybe even some long con game planned by Phorcys and Keto for the easy killing of demigods and satyrs ). Abilene was off with Coach Hedge and a Sea Goddess ( even if the goddess was technically Abilene’s half-sister ). Phorcys was all cryptic, mentioning Ephialtes and Otis, the bronze jar, Charleston, and Rome. Percy looked violent for all the mentions of wanting Dionysus ( and any of his daughters ) dead. Frank realized that his connection to Poseidon didn’t mean much—unless turning into a giant goldfish counts, clothes, backpack, and all.

               It wasn’t his brightest idea, nor was it his proudest moment. But he was breathing underwater, so that counted for something ( or … that was what Frank was telling himself ). Still, he wished he had Percy’s abilities. Below him, the son of Poseidon stood at the bottom of the tank, the layer surrounding him, the way it looked when hydrophobic things were plunged underwater. On the floor, Percy turned in a full circle, then—he looked up. His face morphed into a range of emotions—worry, confusion, shock, humor, and then, what seemed to be annoyance. 

               Percy’s voice echoed throughout Frank’s mind. Dude. A goldfish?

               Admittedly, Frank blanked for a moment, too shocked that Percy could talk to him underwater without opening his mouth—like his thoughts were being propelled through the water and to Frank. I … I freaked, okay? We were talking about goldfish, so it was on my mind. Sue me.

               Percy looked out of the glass, pinching the bridge of his nose. I’m having a telepathic conversation with a giant koi. Great. Can you turn into something more—I dunno—useful?

               Frank focused hard, racking his mind for something that could be useful. If he had known long ago that he could transform into animals, he would’ve read up on more of them … Hammerhead shark? That could be useful. He focused, imagining his body twisting and turning into the elongated form of the shark—

               Nothing. He didn’t feel any change, and by the way Percy was reacting, Frank had not changed from his giant koi form. Sorry, he said, apologetic for his uselessness. He knows that he told Percy back on the Argo II that he didn’t want to end up being the pack mule while they were out exploring Atlanta, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to end up being the group’s pet koi while in the city. I’m stuck. That happens sometimes when I panic.

               S’fine, replied Percy. Let’s figure out how to escape.

               To try and be useful, Frank quickly swam around the large tank, looking in corners, very top of the glass, where the ceiling and the glass wall meet, for trapdoors at the ceiling or floor—nothing. There were not any exits that he could find. The top was covered with Celestial bronze mesh, almost like how in the malls, stores will have metal fences covering their doors and glass windows while closed ( only now, Frank was getting the feeling they were stuck inside the store ). Percy tried to cut through the mesh with Riptide—but he couldn’t even make a dent, let alone an exit. Next, he tried to smash through the glass wall with the hilt of Riptide—again, no luck. Then he repeated his efforts with several of the weapons lying around the bottom of tank, discarded and for decorations. ( He ended up breaking three tridents, a sword, and a speargun—but he didn’t break into an exit. )

               When it wasn’t the first thing Percy suggested, Frank was hesitant to bring up the idea of controlling the water. Something in this aquarium had clearly rattled Percy—whether Phorcys, the talk of Ephiatles and Otis ( and how they hate anything to do with Dionysus ), or seeing all the mistreated sea animals. Frank didn’t know exactly what it was, but something was keeping Percy back from controlling the water—until they had already exhausted every other option. He tried to expand and break their way out of the tank—but that didn’t work. Then he tried to use the water to explode the top, ripping apart the Celestial bronze mesh—that didn’t work. All Percy ended up accomplishing was blowing the lid off the plastic treasure chest. Whatever it was—whether it was Phorcys or the water was just simply enchanted—Percy’s control of water had failed them.

               That’s all I can think of, he reported back to Frank through water telepathic communication ( if that’s what it was called ). We’ll just have to live in a plastic gingerbread house, me having to fight my giant goldfish friend, and waiting for feeding time.

               Hey! shouted Frank, indignant at Percy’s words. I’m not going to stay a goldfish forever!

               He hoped at least. Even as time wore on, his anxiety levels weren’t lowering any. Phorcys had promised that they’d eventually learn to love it—but Frank doubted it. He thought about the dazed telkhines, the Nereids, and those hippocampi—all swimming around in their tanks in lazy circles, bored and completely dazed. It was no way for anyone to live, even sea creatures. The thought of ending up like that scared Frank.

               He forced himself not to focus on the negative. It wouldn’t help any. He forced himself to keep looking around the tank—for anything he or Percy could’ve missed. They would find a way out; they would find a way to defeat the giants ( even if all the gods were incapacitated between their Greek and Roman forms ). He swam along one end of the tank, scanning the top and bottom for anything, but something outside the tank caught his eye—

               Percy, look! he shouted, sending the message through the water.

               Outside the glass, Keto was leading Abilene and Coach Hedge through the amphitheater. To Frank, it looked like the goddess was lecturing to them about something—probably something to do with sea monsters—all the while the satyr nodded and admired the stadium seating. Abilene was trailing behind, watching Keto nervously, her arms crossed over her chest protectively—like she was worried the goddess was going to make a sudden move.

               Abilene! Coach! Percy yelled, but Frank eyed him. There’s no way they could hear telepathic yelling. 

               Frank bumped his head against the glass, creating a few dull thuds that could hardly be heard. None of them seem to notice—not Keto, not Hedge, and most importantly, not Abilene. The Sea Goddess guided the two briskly across the amphitheater. She didn’t even glance at the tank, hardly even acted as if it was there—probably because she assumed the tank was still empty. She pointed to the far end of the room, as if to say, Come on! More gruesome sea monsters this way! Frank panicked more. They only had a few more seconds until Coach Hedge and Abilene would be gone. Percy swam to be beside Frank—

               Abilene, Coach Hedge, and Keto were five feet from the exit.

               Suddenly, Percy dropped down and scooped up one of those giant marbles. Frank quickly swam out of the way as Percy pulled his arms over his head and back—and he hurled it at the glass, his entire body pitching forward from the weight. The marble hit the glass wall with a dull thunk! It surely wouldn’t be loud enough to attract attention.

               Frank’s goldfish heart sank like a giant rock. The three were walking closer to the exit now—four, three feet away from the exit. However, Coach Hedge faltered in his step. He paused long enough to glance over his shoulder. When he saw a giant koi and Percy inside the tank, his expression went through many changes in a matter of mere seconds—incomprehension, surprise, outrage, and then, a mask of calm.

               Abilene started to notice the fact Coach Hedge had paused. She moved around to look at him, but he quickly grabbed her by the upper arm, wheeling her back around. Before Keto could notice anything herself, the satyr quickly pointed toward the top of the amphitheater. To Frank, it looked like he might have been screaming, Gods of Olympus! What is that?!

               Keto frowned to herself, looking to where the satyr was pointing. Coach Hedge quickly pushed Abilene out of the way, who stumbled back, opening her mouth to say something when—the satyr promptly took off his fake foot, leaping like a goat to ninja-kick the Sea Goddess in the back of the head with his goat hoof. Abilene balked as Keto, Goddess of Sea monsters, crumpled to the floor. Frank had been hesitant about the saytr, the whole aggressive-and-in-love-with-mixed-martial-arts-cage-matches ordeal, but he had proved himself to be incredibly useful.

               Coach Hedge grabbed Abilene by the back of the shirt, dragging her over to the glass where Frank and Percy were. He spun her around, giving Percy a look while holding up his palms. Frank guessed it meant, What in Hades are you doing in there, Jackson?

               Percy pounded his fist on the glass and mouthed, Break it! The glass!

               Abilene stared, her eyes flickering between Percy and Frank in his koi form. Her jaw dropped, and she looked as if she had trouble wrapping her mind around the situation. Frank? she yelled, pointing at the giant koi. Frank cringed to himself as much as he could while a giant fish. He waved his left dorsal fin, wondering how embarrassing this was going to be later ( and how much Percy and Abilene were going to hold this over his head ). 

               Behind the two, the Sea Goddess began to stir—sitting up and cradling the back of her head as she winced. Percy pointed frantically past Hedge and Abilene, and the two spun around. The satyr moved like he was warming of his leg for another round of satyr kicking time, but Abilene shot her arm out in front of him, shaking her head adamantly. She pointed back to Frank and Percy, looking like she was saying, Keto’s immortal, Coach Hedge. She won’t stay down easily. We need to get them out and get us out of here!

               The satyr looked disappointed but he turned back around. On three, Percy mouthed to them, holding up three fingers and gesturing at the glass. All of us hit it at the same time.

               Coach Hedge nodded like he understood. Hitting things was a language the satyr was well-versed in ( Frank didn’t need to know the satyr a long time to know that ). Percy bent down and scooped up the same marble from before. Frank, we’ll need you too. Can you change forms yet?

               Frank hesitated, focusing on the way his body felt—still felt like a fish, but he felt like he had more control than he had before. Maybe back to human.

               Human is fine! Just hold your breath. If this works …

               Behind the two outside the tank, Keto was getting to her knees. They couldn’t waste any more time. Percy counted down with his fingers: one … two … three! Frank turned back into a human, feeling his bones creak and groan, his muscles pinching and tightening as they changed shape. He did his best to ignore the pain, shoving his shoulder against the glass. The coach did a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick with his hoof. Abilene also slammed her shoulder into the glass, but Frank could tell by the way her face was screwed up, she was putting all her weight and some weight of the earth behind it. Percy pulled back the marble again, slamming it into the wall—but Frank swore he felt the weight of the water shift, even the temperature started to change, like it was responding to Percy’s emotions. 

               The glass wall cracked—fracture linked zigzagged from the many different points of impact. Even more fractures started to appear from the sheer pressure of water, and suddenly—the tank burst. Frank was sucked out in a torrent of water, coughing and spluttering as some of the water got into his mouth and then lungs. He tumbled across the amphitheater’s cold floors with Percy, some of the large marbles, and a couple of clumps of plastic seaweed. Abilene jumped out of the way of some of the marbles, pushing some wet hair that had become plastered to her face out of the way. Keto, who had just gotten to her feet, was pushed back down as the kneeled diver statue slammed into her like it wanted a hug.

               Coach Hedge spat out salt water, his hat dripping with water. “Pan’s pipes, Jackson, Zhang! What were you doing in there?!”

               “Phorcys!” spluttered Percy, hastily climbing to his feet. “Trap! Run!”

               Abilene grabbed Frank by both hands to yanked him to his feet as Percy and Coach Hedge started to run. She kept ahold of him with one hand, pulling him after her as she ran after the others. Overhead, alarms blared as they fled away from the exhibits. They ran past the Nereids’ tank, and then the telkhines. Frank knew the telkhines had turned against the gods in the last Gods–Titans war, but even they didn’t deserve to live like this. He wanted to free them, but how? They were drugged and sluggisih, and they were sea creatures. They couldn’t just pluck them out of their tanks; they needed the ocean to survive.

               But if Phorcys caught them, Frank had no doubt the Sea God would try and put them back in some tanks—along with Abilene and Coach Hedge, who definitely had no chance of surviving that. And if Keto caught them, she would surely be ready to feed them to her beloved sea monsters.

               Over the sound system, Phorcys’s voice boomed: “Percy Jackson! Frank Zhang!”

               Around them as they ran, flash pots and sparklers were exploding randomly—the four had to duck and weave, covering their heads and coughing as donut-scented smoke filled the halls. Music scratched to a halt only to start again—it was five or six different tracks of music, and they were stitching together loudly, creating this horrible amalgamation of music from the speakers. Lights popped and caught fire as all the special effects in the building were triggered at once.

               Frank, Abilene, Percy, and Coach Hedge all stumbled out of the glass tunnel, breathing heavily as the scent of donuts followed them. They found themselves back in the whale shark room, where Coach Hedge had decided he should try and fight some of them. The mortal section of the aquarium was filled with screaming crowds—families and day camp groups were running in every direction, all the while as staff raced around frantically, trying to assure them that it was just a faulty alarm system. 

               But Frank knew better. He tightened his grip on Abilene’s hands as they plunged into the running crowd of mortals, heading for the exit.

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter fourteen

━━ USING ANGER AS a crutch and a shield was nothing new for Elisa. Truthfully, if anything, it was extremely expected behavior. Dionysus had warned her that her wrath; her anger; her ability to fly off the handle at anything she didn’t like—that was her fatal flaw. It was why Brian Anders was dead, why Elisa still didn’t entirely understand Bianca’s decision to join the Hunters, it was why Elisa was so mean to Percy in the beginning, it’s why Maverick was dead. Wrath was her fatal flaw, and more specifically, her inability to control her wrath would be the thing most likely to get her killed. Part of her already knew that, but she never wanted to admit it to herself. No one ever does. No one ever wants to admit there’s this one trait about them that could be the very thing that could get them killed, especially if it’s a trait like anger. 

               No one ever wants to be angry. People just are. Elisa just is, despite how hard she’s tried not to be so angry. Her wrath clung to her the same way her past did, both things she tried so hard to run from, and both things that were so closely intertwined that it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. So much of her past was littered with moments where the wrath had won and Elisa had done something irreversible. The guilt was almost as heavy as the anger was. She thought, perhaps hopelessly, that after some time, the weight of that flaw would become bearable—it never really has, she’s only grown more used to the feeling of that constant weight, like she was holding up the sky all over again.

               It was why she really needed to apologize—to Leo and Jason, whichever one she came across first. The guilt started to worm it’s way inside the moment she snapped at Leo, calling him just as untrustworthy as Jason believes Nico to be just because of some “suspicious behavior”—but once the match was lit, the fire was going, and there was nothing to be done besides waiting it out. The match was Elisa’s already haywire emotions. She was sick to her stomach at the mere idea of Nico being captured, let alone to actually see him in that bronze jar with Tweedledee and Tweedledum talking about using him as “bait.” She had promised Bianca years ago to take care of Nico, and Elisa dropped the ball—horrendously. If she hadn’t worried and fussed over Percy being missing ( even after she knew where he was and that it was just a waiting game until the right time ), then maybe she could’ve contacted Nico, convinced him not to go looking for the Doors of Death by himself. Elisa never exactly told Nico that Bianca asked her to look after him, she knew he would’ve never liked to be babied like that—but even he knew, there was no way he didn’t. 

               The lighting of the match was Leo suggesting that Nico was somehow suspicious for everything he’s done—for both camps. It shouldn’t have made her as upset as it did, but it did, and the match was lit, and it was exposed to a lot of oxygen. The small flame flickering on the match roared to life when Jason then doubled down for Leo, saying that the son of Hephaestus had a “fair point.” Truthfully, at that point, Elisa started to nitpick everything they were saying, with the match being thrown to the ground, landing on a bunch of flammable objects—and there, Elisa Bardales had made a scene out of her wrath and loud mouth. It wasn’t exactly a new situation for her. She was known to let wrath control her tongue and actions; wrath was her fatal flaw.

               When she stormed out of the dining area, she quickly retreated to her room, regret of her words already crashing into her like a tidal wave. Even if she did regret saying those things, a large part of her was still angry—and that large part of her felt justified in all those nasty things she spewed at Leo and Jason. She was still so angry that she didn’t feel bad for what she said necessarily, just that she did it so publicly. It was confusing. All of her knew it was wrong; one half of her regretted it; the other half felt justified—like the angel and devil on each shoulder, pulling her in opposite directions. She knew she needed to apologize to both Jason and Leo, that was a given, but she also knew she needed to cool off more before she even tried—she still felt justified in the words, just that it was the wrong moment. She said mean things, she knew that, and even if she felt justified or not, her words were scathing and said in the heat of the moment—so how much did she really mean, or was it just her anger talking for and to her?

               It was nearly an hour before she peeked her head out of her room, looking from left to right for any sign of demigod activity—nothing except the door to Annabeth’s room was jarred ever-so-slightly. Her stomach churned at the idea of seeing anyone, embarrassment pooling in the bottom of her gut like a rock as she thought back to the scene she caused at breakfast—it wasn’t her proudest moment, really. But she also knew if anyone would understand, it would be Annabeth. She had been putting up with Elisa since they were fourteen. From saving the daughter of Athena on a quest to then studying the labyrinth together that very next summer ( along with Clarisse La Rue, and honestly, that was like surviving continuous monster attacks with how hot-headed both Elisa and Clarisse are ), and then saving Olympus only a year after that—Annabeth had seen even worse of Elisa.

               It was only a rather downtrodden Hazel who was also in Annabeth’s dorm. Elisa paused in the doorway, holding the door halfway open as she froze at the sight of the daughter of Pluto. “I—uh …” She gave a tight-lipped smile to the two. “Hey.”

               Annabeth stopped rubbing Hazel’s back, looking up at the newcomer. She smiled back, though her grey eyes looked stormy, like she was mulling over some pretty bad thoughts. “Hey, Elisa. I was just telling Hazel about some of Percy’s best Seaweed Brain moments. You got any you want to tell?”

               “Uh …” Elisa trailed off, all the words she was prepared to say to Annabeth leaking out of her ears. She had expected the blonde to be looking at the laptop given to her by Daedalus, and that she would have to pester the daughter of Athena before a conversation could be had. She hadn't expected there to already be someone taking Annabeth’s attention. “Well … there was this one time he played a round of rock paper scissors with one of the Hundred-Handed Ones—he pulled a gun to win.”

               Hazel’s golden eyes widened. “Like … a real gun?”

               Annabeth suddenly snorted loudly, covering her mouth. “No, no! He made a gun with his hands, Hazel.”

               But the daughter of Pluto only frowned. “But that’s not the rules of the game …”

               “Exactly.” Annabeth nodded. “Percy managed to convince the Hundred-Handed One into thinking it was.” She looked back up to Elisa, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees. “So, what d’you come here for?”

               “Oh. Right …” The daughter of Dionysus looked aside, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a brief moment. She was half-tempted to lie and say “Nothing important,” but … “Well—I was asking if you knew where Leo or Jason were. Either of them? I should say sorry for—you know—what happened the morning.”

               The blonde nodded, like this was what she wanted the girl to say. “Leo should still be in the engine room last I heard. Jason … I dunno. Maybe up on the deck with Piper.”

               The last thing Elisa wanted was an audience for her apology. Not because it would make apologizing harder ( which it would ), but because she wanted to talk to them alone. It’d be easier to see where their heads were without any other company around. It would help to see if they really were okay, instead of just putting on a face for the others. “Oh … Okay, then. Thanks, Annabeth.”

               She turned, her back facing the two in the dorm, when Annabeth called out; “You know, Elisa, you should talk to Leo first. He seemed really shaken up after you left.”

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Elisa had learned a lot from Beckendorf for the time she knew him. One of the most important things she learned from him was that she did not have enough patience for anything blacksmithing or metalworking ( but she already had a strong feeling that she was not cut out for a life behind an anvil ). So when she met Leo ( not even half a year after Beckendorf's death ) and spent an entire quest with him, it was natural she would start learning things from him—it almost gave her whiplash and serious heartache at the same time when she thought about it.

               So she tried not to.

               She knew what Beckendorf would tell her—some strange analogy about letting metal sit will make it start to rust, and how humans are the same way, and how that meant Elisa stewing on her emotions for as long as she did would mean she would become "rusty" ( that she would become covered in a layer of such anger that she would lose sight of who she is underneath all that "rust" ). And he wasn't wrong, but she couldn't even hear the long, drawn-out explanation from him, she had to just know that was what he was going to say.

               She knew Leo felt stuck in the shadow of the former Head Counselor for Cabin Nine; in the shadows of Beckendorf. Leo felt the coldness of the shadow the moment he was claimed, when the "curse of Cabin Nine" had been uttered as the symbol of Hephaestus appeared over his head—an outline of a hammer in this fiery red color. Then, he was given the bunk bed of the former Head Counselor, Beckendorf. Then, he learned that wielding fire wasn't common nor was it desired of any child of Hephaestus. And then it was finding an out-of-control, out-of-commission Festus and Bunker Nine—it was one bad thing after another. Beckendorf was beloved by Camp ( and he still is, it's just that people struggle to say his name aloud after what happened to him and the Second Titan War ). Leo never told Elisa, but she knew he had to be feeling the weight of Beckendorf's legacy—especially after he was given the role of Head Counselor and tasked with the giant undertaking of building the Argo II from scratch.

               She never brought the conversation up to him, knowing exactly how he would react—if he was caught on a bad day, he would snap at her, and if he was caught on a not-so-bad-day, he would make some corny joke to worm his way out of the conversation. He was good at doing that, but she supposes being a runaway kid for so long makes a demigod a good talker, even if it is through corny jokes.

               Leo was right where Annabeth said he would be—the engine room. The son of Hephaestus was on the opposite end of the bronze sphere from the doorway Elisa stood in. She paused in the open doorway, the loudest sounds being the constant rumbles the engine room was making—pistons letting pressured air out, pipes carrying all sorts of materials, cables whirring lightly as they carried information—and Leo muttering under his breath. Most of it was in Spanish, meaning Elisa understood everything he was saying—they were the only two fluent Spanish speakers on the ship. ( The whole "Spanish Word of the Day" thing had slowly come to a stop as time whirled on, and as the day of the Summer Solstice came closer—and Jason was still terrible at Spanish after months, so not much had changed. )

               Elisa licked her lips, taking her hand off the wooden door frame of the engine room. She either stood there until Leo moved and found her lurking or if the others returned from Atlanta with news about Phorcys … or until she really worked up the nerve to apologize for what she said to him. She sighed quietly, the sound muffled by the loudness of the engine room, and stepped inside.

               Leo immediately looked up when he realized someone was in the engine room with him. He sat at the base of the bronze sphere, his back pressed against the metal, as he had papers strewn around him. He had a well-used notebook laid on one leg as he flipped through loose papers. From what Elisa could tell, in the notebook, it looked like mock drawings of what became the bronze sphere Leo sat with his back against.

               "Those old plans for the Argo?" she asked, filling the silence.

               The son of Hephaestus blinked at her, the ends of his curly, black hair getting into his eyes. He quickly brushed the hairs out of his eyes, looking back down to the notebook. He started flipping through the loose pages. "Yeah." His answer was short, but his tone was even shorter.

               Elisa pursed her lips, looking aside to see the warped reflections of themselves in the bronze sphere. "I'm sorry," she bluntly stated it. "For what I said back at breakfast. It wasn't right. You—"

               "I wanted to include another valve coming out of here," Leo broke in. He pointed above his head, somewhere off to the left of the upper side of the sphere. "I ran out of time."

               Elisa's brows furrowed together as she silently looked to where he was pointing. "It's …" This had to be his way of telling her to shut up with the apologies. "The ship's good, Leo—it's amazing, actually."

               He turned back around, pressing his back against the sphere once more. He looked up at her, placed the pages in the notebook, and flipped it closed. "Thanks, Lisa."

               She pursed her lips, shrugging lightly. "I shouldn't have … said what I did. It was being mean to be mean."

               He started cleaning up the pages tossed aside onto the floor and Elisa took that as her invitation to sit down. She sat down quietly, pulling her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. The bronze sphere was warm to the touch, making her tense muscles almost relax—she knew she was on edge, but she hadn't really just how on edge she was until now.

               Leo was silent for a moment, tucking his legs underneath himself. He ran one finger over the edge of the notebook absentmindedly, looking off to the wall opposite of them that was filled with pistons and pipes and tubes. "I wanted to add another valve there 'cause it would help release extra stress if the ship gets overloaded."

               She tightened her grip on her wrist. "Leo, the Argo II is solid. And you know that, too. This ship is amazing, and it was practically a one-man team—you."

               "I feel like that's all I have to offer, though," he replied. "The ship, I mean."

               She looked at him sharply, frowning. "That's not true!" she said quickly, almost sounding offended for him. "Even if it was, the Argo's the only reason we're on this quest." She looked at him for a long moment, however, Leo didn't look back. He grabbed the notebook he had closed, flipping through it again—he wanted something to keep his hands busy. "Leo … you can't seriously think that? You're vital to this quest. You wouldn't be one of the nine if you weren't."

               When he didn't immediately reply, she started with; "Not even just this quest. If it weren't for you, Hera would probably be that giant's wife. And I don't like Hera but that would suck for her—and for that giant, too." She nodded to herself, like she was so sure that marriage would have been more miserable than the one between Hera and Zeus already was. "And if she had become his wife, then the whole quest would've meant nothing. Piper's dad would be dead. Gaea would've already risen. We'd all probably be dead—"

               "Okay, Elisa," the black-haired boy broke in. "I get it." If someone didn't know Leo, they would probably think he was annoyed with her. However, she could see him fighting back a smile—his lower lip was starting to pout as he raised his eyebrows.

               She unwrapped her arms, letting her legs flatten out against the wood floors. She carefully placed her hands in her lap. "I am sorry," she insisted, looking at Leo from the corner of her vision.

               "I think you've told me that once or twice now," he replied. "No, wait—three times."

               She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Really?" she asked, sarcasm woven into her words. "It's almost like—just maybe—I want to say sorry for what I said."

               "S'okay," he accepted the apology. "I mean—it really did hurt my feelings, but …" He shrugged. "It's not like I've never lashed out in anger before. Besides, I was shitty about the whole leave-Nico-behind thing. I forgot—Well, I forgot how close you guys are."

               Elisa frowned at her feet, one ankle crossed over the other as her posture slumped forward. She was glad, in a way, that Leo was accepting the apology; but the other half of her felt like he was just trying to push it under the rug, trying to act like it never happened in the first place. "I …" She trailed off, looking at Leo slowly. "You sure you're okay? What I said was uncalled for."

               The son of Hephaestus shrugged. "You were angry and upset."

               "And I was trying to hurt your feelings."

               He nodded. "It worked—but I'm okay." He gave her a thumbs up, untucking his feet and placing the bottom of his shoes firmly on the ground. Elisa felt that pang of guilt come back as she watched him stand up, brushing off the back of his pants. "I'd be upset if any of the others suggested we just leave you, Laney, Pipes, or Jason behind—you know, the people I came to Camp with."

               Elisa's brows knitted together slowly as she mulled over his words. "You came to Camp with …? What d'you mean?"

               Leo dropped the notebook on a cluttered, metal desk with a small thump! There were no legs under the table as it had been screwed to the wall. Elisa presumed it was for storage as well, as Leo had stuffed metal shelves under there, all labeled messily in permanent marker on the front. "You came to Camp with Nico, didn't you?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her.

               Her frown deepened as she watched Leo. "Well … yeah—How did you know that?"

               He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at her. She saw that his expression was almost sheepish. "Well … Annabeth mentioned it once."

               "Annabeth?" Elisa repeated. "Why would she talk about that?"

               He shrugged lightly once again. He pulled out the very bottom drawer with his foot, and the jangling of metal tools rattled loudly in her ears. "It just—I dunno—came up …? I mean—I said something about," he waved one hand lazily, reaching down to grab some sort of tool Elisa didn't know the name of, "being at Camp for only half a year or so—before the Argo II was finished—arriving in December and all. Annabeth mentioned that you also made it to Camp in December. She said that most campers come in spring or summer."

               She didn't expect to become on edge at the mention of how she arrived at Camp years ago—two and a half years ago, to be exact. It was only two and a half years, but it felt like a lifetime as she thought back. But she didn't want to think back on that time—a time before Camp Half-Blood. Or even that brief time when both Bianca and Nico were at Camp, but neither one was interacting with the other. At the time, Elisa feared that's how it was going to be for however long she or Nico lived … because she thought Bianca was going to outlive them, being a part of the Hunters of Artemis.

               Of course, that's not how it ended up. Bianca died to stop the defective Talos; Nico ran away in a moment of insurmountable grief; Elisa was left at Camp Half-Blood with the broken pieces of the life she had tried so hard to keep together. After the monster attack in Durango, after leaving Callum in Albuquerque, Elisa fought to make it to Camp Half-Blood. She fought so hard, chased by monsters, and ended up hours away from Long Island—all the way in Bar Harbor, Maine, where she met Grover, and he recognized her as another demigod that needed to be taken to Camp. That's when he told her why he originally came to Maine—nature spirit rumors and his satyr nose telling him about two potential demigods in Bar Harbor. In Westover Hall, specifically.

               Truthfully, first meeting the di Angelos, Elisa didn't see them as anything more than just something else to keep track of—a couple of annoyances that were hindering her from arriving at Camp. But they wormed their way in—Nico with his always chipper attitude, always happily talking away about … anything, really; Bianca with a much calmer disposition, sharing amused, albeit tired, glances with Elisa, as Nico prattled on. The two girls even shared a dorm at Westover, where they would talk at night about practically anything on their minds—anything on Bianca's mind, at least. Elisa didn't want to admit that the di Angelos were slowly chipping away at the walls she had so crudely built. The conversations between Bianca and Elisa were slower, more calm, without Nico coming in to happily talk about Mythomagic or whatever the other boys at Westover were teaching him.

               But it all completely flipped on its head when Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia arrived at Westover Hall. Somehow it changed even more when Bianca joined the Hunters, practically shoving the responsibility of Nico onto Elisa's shoulders in what felt like a matter of seconds. Truthfully, she still didn't entirely understand Bianca's desire to join—she understood that Bianca wanted to be more than Nico's sister ( and, honestly, she was more of his parent than a sibling ), but … Elisa didn't fully, truly understand. At this point, she didn't think she ever would.

               She didn't like thinking back to her life at Westover or when she had just arrived at Camp Half-Blood—many of the memories were just too painful to willingly think about.

               "Yeah." She nodded to Leo. "Yeah, I made it to Camp in December and—like—immediately snuck onto a quest with Percy."

               The son of Hephaestus was quiet for a moment, often how he mulled over a thought, whether to bring it up or not. He licked his lips before saying, "She also mentioned that … some people died on that quest."

               "Don't ever mention Bianca to Nico."

               His brows knitted together. "Bianca's—"

               "Is Nico's sister." Elisa nodded. "She—was Hades's daughter."

               "Was?"

               "She chose rebirth. She wants to make it to Isles of the Blest."

               Leo faced her, leaning his left hip against the end of the table. He held the tool with his right hand, it dangling beside his leg. "And the other person—?"

               "Zoë." Elisa pursed her lips tightly. She and the lieutenant of the Hunters had started off rocky, but she had quickly grown to appreciate the Hunter—Elisa knew if she really needed advice, she could've gone to Zoë. "She was a daughter of Atlas, used to be one of the Hesperides—until she was written out for helping a hero."

               She watched Leo for a moment. He wiped the tool off his blue jeans slowly—back and forth, both sides, against the well-worn material as he thought and processed. When a few more seconds passed and he hadn't said anything, she spoke. "You asked. I'm not telling you to make you …" she shrugged lightly, "feel bad or something. Yeah, I made it to Camp in December a couple of years ago. With Nico and Bianca."

               He started turning the tool over in his fingers, apparently when he felt that he had wiped enough grime off the silver metal. "… I shouldn't've asked," he eventually decided.

               Her eyes slid over to the messy desk. She remembered how rocky she and Percy had started off—part of her blamed everything turning on its head at Westover with his arrival ( when it had in a way … ) and then he kept pushing for information about her, thinking he could help as he had been told for years at that point that he was a hero ( potentially the hero in the Great Prophecy ). She snapped at him, and he apologized for all the pushing—it was Percy holding up his hands in surrender, and Elisa lowering her clenched fists. She still didn't like him, let alone tolerate him, at that time.

               But things change.

               "It's not a crime to ask," she told him, wincing lightly as she moved her legs, her joints stretching and groaning. She placed the soles of her shoes firmly on the ground, bracing her hands flat against the floor—but before she could start to get up, there was the sound of rapid footsteps down the hall, and Jason and Piper appeared in the doorway to the engine room.

               "Guys!" Piper's voice was shrill against the constant rumble of the engine and all its parts. "Their back! And they're being followed!"

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

Elisa and Leo hurried after Piper and Jason, running up the stairs two steps at a time. She guided her hand along the metal railing the cool-to-the-touch feel sending shock waves through her fingers and up her arm. As the four ran, Piper was trying to tell Leo and Elisa what she knew—something about Frank running into Annabeth's dorm, Frank yelling that they were being chased by … Porky, and needing to go quickly before whatever was chasing them caught up.

               In full truth, Elisa didn't care about most of that. At least, it wasn't her top priority. She needed to know if Percy was alright.

               Elisa was the last one to reach the deck, skittering to a stop behind Piper and Jason. Moving her head to look between the two, the scene was a weird one—Annabeth, Hazel, and Frank were all on their feet ( though, Frank, was in weirdly stiff but somehow damp clothes, like they had been washed in pure starch ); however, Frank was bent at the waist, his hands braced on his knees, as he gasped for air with red cheeks. And sprawled across the wooden deck like discarded trash were Abilene, Hedge, and Percy. The four who had gone to find Phorcys all looked exhausted—except for Hedge, who was grinning up at the blue sky with a dazed, pleased smile. He kept muttering, "Awesome … Awesome …" under his breath.

               Leo stared at the scene with pinched eyebrows. He heard the same spiel from Piper as Elisa did, and what was happening on deck seemed nothing like what the daughter of Aphrodite was telling them. "What? What?" he cried, spreading his hands, still holding onto the metal tool from the engine room. "What's wrong?!"

               Frank stood up, brushing the palm of his hand over his military cut nervously. "Followed!" he yelled, his dark eyes frantic.

               Jason frowned at the son of Mars. "Followed by what?"

               "I don't know!" admitted Frank, his voice raising an octave as his panic rose. "Whales? Whale sharks? Sea monsters? Probably Kate and Porky!"

               Annabeth looked at the boy, her grey eyes flashing in what looked like annoyance and frustration. "That makes absolutely no sense," she decided matter-of-factly. She pursed her lips, looking back to the four still at the top of the stairs. Her eyes locked on the son of Hephaestus, who stood beside Elisa. "Leo, you'd better get us out of here."

               Leo shared a brief glance with Elisa, shrugging lightly as he stuffed the tool into the back pocket of his jeans. He quickly ran for the helm, flipping switches, turning gears, and all sorts of other machine stuff Elisa didn't know about. Soon, before Kate or Porky could storm the ship, the Argo II was rising into the sky. As Leo flew the craft, Annabeth went to man the aft crossbow, watching out for anything Frank said could be following them. From how Annabeth watched with stormy, grey eyes, Elisa assumed the coast was clear of whales, whale sharks, and Kate and Porky.

               Even with the smooth takeoff ( especially considering a lot of their previous takeoffs, like having to leave New Rome and Camp Jupiter in flames and being stormed with angry Romans ), the four who went into Atlanta didn't even begin to recover until the Atlanta skyline was only a hazy smudge in their path. Elisa crouched next to Percy, who was covered in nicks and scratches, like he had jumped through a window ( and knowing him and his knack for finding trouble, he probably had—or, at least, something similar ). He glanced at her through narrowed eyes and she was pleased to see they were still sea green and not a scary golden color. The eidolons hadn't come back, as Piper made them promise. Her boyfriend grasped her hand, using his fingers to squeeze her palm as if to say, Be right with you, just as soon as the world stops spinning.

               She tried to cover a grin, standing up and grabbing his other arm, so their arms were criss-crossed over one another. He cracked his eyes open, not fighting too hard as she pulled him up into a sitting position ( though Elisa had a feeling he had gone dead weight just to annoy her some; he had a knack for knowing just how to annoy her, too ). He kept holding one hand even after he was in a comfortable sitting position, but Elisa didn't argue even if the idea of people seeing them made her skin want to crawl. ( She needed to work on that. It was obvious to everyone, including herself, that she had feelings for Percy, and letting other people see that wasn't a bad thing, even if it made her feel mortified and awkward. )

               When Atlanta wasn't even a small smudge, but only a small blip on the horizon, did Percy get to his feet. He held on his other hand, grasping the air for Elisa to grab his palm. Their arms were crossed over one another again as she helped pull him to his feet. His grasp was weak and his knees looked ready to buckle underneath him at any moment. It's why she still didn't argue or shake off his hold when he kept one hand interlocked with hers, even with Piper snorting to herself and looking amused.

               "Charleston," said Percy suddenly. He hobbled beside Elisa like an old man as she walked for the railing. He sounded shaken up. Something must have happened in Atlanta to make him like this. "We need to head to Charleston."

               From the middle of the deck, Jason frowned deeply. He looked from the front end of the Argo II, at Percy and Elisa. "Charleston?" He repeated the name as if it brought him bad memories. "What exactly did you find in Atlanta?"

               Frank suddenly slung a backpack off his shoulders, setting it down at his feet. Elisa watched as he unzipped it and started pulling out— "Some peach preserves," he said. "Some T-shirts. A snow globe. And—um …" he pulled out a finger trap, turning it over in his hand, "these not-really-Chinese-but-called-Chinese handcuffs."

               Quietly and ducking his head slightly, Percy snickered at the bewildered look on Elisa's face. Of all of Ares's ( Mars, whatever ) offspring she met, Frank was the weirdest of them all. He wasn't even very … son of Mars-esque, who she assumed would be at least remotely similar to all of Ares's children back at Camp Half-Blood. He didn't continuously throw out insults and threats, he seemed pretty level-headed ( if not a bit shy ), and didn't act as if the first course of action had to always be some act of violence. Truth be told, she didn't know what to make of Frank.

               Annabeth's nostrils flared slightly as she took a deep breath. She seemed close to grabbing the son of Mars by the shoulder and shaking him. "Frank, how 'bout you start from the top" —her eyes flickered to the jar of peach preserves in one of Frank's hands and the finger trap in the other— "of the story, not the … souvenirs."

               All ten on the ship gathered up on the quarterback so Leo, from where he stood navigating the Argo II, could hear the relaying of the Atlanta visit. The job of telling the story was juggled between Percy, Frank, and Abilene—the four made it to the Georgia Aquarium, were found by "Kate" ( who ended up being Keto ), and then Percy and Frank were trapped by "Porky" ( Phorcys ) as Keto led Abilene and Hedge on a tour about sea monsters. Even with Hedge's interjections here and there, "That was awesome!" "Then I kicked that old goddess in the head!" Elisa didn't fail to notice the way Frank glanced at Percy when they started to tilter on the conversation with Phorcys.

               When describing the Georgia Aquarium, Percy's jaw clenched before he mentioned all the captive sea creatures—they were drugged and used for entertainment. Even if Elisa despised monsters like the telkhine, even a fate like that is a cruel one. That must be what got under his skin so well from the visit to Atlanta.

               "That is horrible, Percy," she agreed. She squeezed the upper part of his right arm as he glared down at the floor beneath them. "We'll go back and get them."

               Percy slowly nodded. "Yeah. Just … in time. I just have to figure out how. I wish …" However, instead of finishing his thought, he only shook his head. "Forget it. First things first, we've got to deal with the bounty on our heads."

               By now, Coach Hedge had lost interest in the Atlanta debrief—most likely because it was no longer about him and his very brave action of kicking Keto in the head. He wandered over to the bow of the ship, practicing his roundhouse kick and complimenting himself on his technique.

               Annabeth watched the satyr for a moment. Her knuckles tightened around the hilt of her dagger. "A bounty on our heads …" she murmured. But then, she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "As if we didn't attract enough monsters already."

               Leo peered up curiously. "Do we get those Wanted posters? Like, the ones in all those old Western films? And do they have our bounties—like—broken down on a price list?"

               Hazel's nose wrinkled as she frowned at the son of Hephaestus. "What are you talking about?"

               "Just curious how much I'm going for these days." Leo shrugged to himself. "I mean … I can understand not being as pricey as Percy or Jason. But I've got to be worth—like—two, three Franks?"

               "Hey!" Frank complained loudly.

               "Whatever. It doesn't matter who's worth more on the bounties," snapped Elisa, scowling at the two bickering. "We just need to make it to Charleston and get that map Phorcys mentioned."

               Piper leaned her right hip against the control panel. Her dark brown hair was tucked behind her ears, making them stick out ever so slightly. "A map …" she repeated, frowning down at her shoes. "But a map to what?"

               "The Mark of Athena," Percy said, his eyes flickering to Elisa and then Annabeth. She straightened, her arms crossing over her chest as Athena's daughter quickly looked at the two. She had promised Annabeth not to say anything, and she hadn't, but Percy was his usual self and was trying to burden himself with everyone else's problems. He looked at Elisa again, but she couldn't tell if it was out of annoyance that she wouldn't say anything or fear that he had overstepped. "… Whatever it is," he continued carefully when neither Annabeth nor Elisa bit his head off. "We know it leads to something important in Rome. It's got to be something that could heal the rift between the Romans and Greeks."

               Hazel's brows knitted together in deep thought. "The giants' bane," she added.

               Percy nodded. "And in my dream, the twin giants said something about a statue."

               Abilene was still watching Hedge from the bow of the ship. She was twirling one end of her brown hair around and around her forefinger. "Keto mentioned something like that … Something about statues being stuck at the bottom of the ocean—forgotten about but still important. I think that's how she said it."

               Frank rolled his not-Chinese-but-called-Chinese finger trap between his forefinger and thumb slowly. "According to Phorcys, we'd have to be insane to try and find it … What is it?"

               Annabeth straightened as eight pairs of eyes settled on her. She had a top section of her blonde braids pulled away from her face, but the bottom half fell over her shoulders. Her jaw ticked, and Elisa got the feeling that Annabeth had ideas—as she always did—but didn't want to share ( something that was also not new for her ). She knew about Annabeth's bizarre argument with her mother in New York City after leaving Sally's, and she knew about the coin Annabeth had and how her cap of invisibility had lost its touch—but that was all Elisa knew. She had pieces of the puzzle, but they were pieces on polar opposite sides, and the picture was far too big for her to piece together alone.

               Annabeth licked her lips before replying. "I'm … close to an answer," she told them. "I'll know more if we find this map." Her eyes locked onto the son of Jupiter. "Jason, the way you reacted when Charleston was brought up … Have you been there before?"

               The son of Jupiter spun the silver ring on his forefinger; the gift from Delaney. "Yeah," he admitted. "Reyna and I did a quest there about a year ago—if I remember right. We were salvaging Imperial gold weapons from the C.S.S. Hunley."

               Piper frowned. "Hunley?" she repeated.

               Leo's eyes suddenly lit up like a kid's on Christmas. "Whoa! That's the first successful military submarine! From the Civil War. I always wanted to see that!"

               "It held a secret stash of Imperial gold torpedoes—until we rescued them and brought them back to Camp Jupiter."

               Hazel frowned deeply at the blond. "So the Romans fought on the Confederate side? Really? That's horrible!"

               Jason blinked owlishly at her. "Wha …? Oh, no. No! It's super complicated but …" he debated for a moment, "the Civil War was entirely mortal. Just the Romans and Greeks would come in contact and the Mist would make it seem like that was another Civil War battle. The Hunley's another one of the Mist's tricks." His expression suddenly turned sheepish and he pursed his lips. "But, yeah, it was horrible. And some of the demigods did bad things—made bad decisions. Like, maybe being too suspicious or speaking without thinking."

               Hazel stared at him, her arms slowly uncrossing from across her chest. It was slowly dawning on her that this was Jason's attempt at apologizing for what happened at breakfast.

               Suddenly, Jason elbowed Leo in the side. The son of Hephaestus yelped, cradling the spot just below his ribs. "I mean … yeah. Bad choices," he echoed Jason's words. "Like not trusting people's brothers who—you know—might need saving." He glanced at Elisa. "Hypothetically speaking."

               Silently, Jason also looked at Elisa. She could tell what his telepathic question was: Are we okay? She shrugged, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She wasn't happy about what Jason said, but her words

               Hazel pursed her lips, however, she did seem just a little bit lighter than when she was talking to Annabeth in the dorm room. "… Fine. Back to Charleston." She looked back to Jason. "Are you saying we should check over that submarine again?"

               Jason shrugged lightly. "Well … I can think of two places in Charleston that we could search. The museum where they keep the Hunley—that's one of them. It has a lot of relics from the Civil War." He looked back at Annabeth. "A map could be one of the relics. I know the layout pretty well. I could lead a team inside."

               Leo glanced away from the bow of the Argo II. "I'll go," he offered. "I'd like to see the Hunley if I can."

               Jason nodded to his friend. He turned to Frank—who had the finger trap stuck on both of his forefingers. His lips were pursed tightly as he tugged both fingers in the opposite directions. Jason hardly took notice, telling the son of Mars; "You should come, too, Frank. We might need you."

               Frank suddenly stopped, the finger trap stretched thin as he pulled his fingers apart. "… Why?" His frown deepened as he tugged at the finger trap some more. "It's not like I was much good at that stupid aquarium."

               Percy had noticed Frank's finger-trapped predicament, trying to look sympathetic as he covered a smile. He patted his friend on the shoulder, saying nothing about the gag gift. "You did fine, Frank," he assured. "It took all four of us to break that glass."

               "Besides, you're a child of Mars," Jason continued, his tone matter-of-fact and stable, like he was creating war plans with some other Romans around some large, round table. "The ghosts of the defeated causes are bound to serve you. And the museum in Charleston has plenty of Confederate ghosts. We'll need you to keep them in line."

               Frank looked up sharply at the mention of ghosts. The flushed color of his cheeks as he tried to catch his breath earlier was long gone. Now, he looked pale and frightened at the idea of controlling a bunch of spirits of dead soldiers. Elisa eyed the finger trap the son of Mars was still ensnared in, remembering a vague comment Percy made about Frank—something about a giant goldfish before Frank quickly continued with his retelling. Sure, he could turn into a gigantic, flying dragon; in that same breath, she was also watching him struggle with a Chinese finger trap and she had the mental image of Frank as a giant koi. It wasn't exactly doing wonders for his image.

               Frank glanced at the son of Jupiter again in a hesitant manner. "… Okay. Sure," he relented to Jason. But he was frowning back down at his fingers again, trying to pull them out. "But, um, how do you—?"

               Leo noticed Frank's predicament, chuckling to himself. "Man, you've never seen one of those before? It's easy to get out."

               The material stretched as Frank tugged again—but no luck. Even Abilene was trying not to smile, watching the son of Mars quietly. But Elisa could see the brunette's hand twitched, like she was fighting back the urge to try and help. Frank grimaced with concentration, not realizing he had everyone's attention by now. And right before Elisa's eyes, he disappeared. The finger trap snapped back into its normal shape and fell to the floor with a quiet thud. Where Frank had been standing—a green iguana was sitting beside the empty gag gift called Chinese handcuffs.

               A beat of silence reverberated among the four still human-shaped demigods—until Leo spoke, that is. He raised his eyebrows at the animal, saying in what sounded like his best impression of Chiron, "Well done, Frank Zhang. That's exactly how people beat Chinese handcuffs. They turn into iguanas."

               With the silence broken, everyone broke out into loud bouts of laughter. Elisa thought she saw the iguana's face twist in concentration before Frank appeared again—in his typical, human form this time. The tips of his ears were beet red as he quickly picked up the discarded finger trap. He shoved it into the back pocket of his pants, managing an embarrassed smile.

               "Anyway," Frank spoke up, his voice breaking through the small giggles and snickers still echoing around. He was clearly anxious to change the subject from his and the finger trap. "The museum is definitely a place to search. But—uh—Jason, you said there were two places."

               Jason's lingering smile quickly faded. Whatever the second place was, Elisa knew it wasn't a pleasant place. He opened his mouth to say something, however, he closed it just as quickly. Finally, he started speaking. "Yeah. The second place. It's called the Battery—it's a park right by the harbor. The last time I was there—with Reyna—we saw something in the park." He shrugged, mostly to himself, as his brows furrowed deeply as he tried to recall the memory he had completely forgotten about only six months ago. "It—it was a ghost or some sort of spirit, like a Southern belle from the Civil War. It was glowing and floating along in the park. We tried to approach it, but it disappeared whenever we got close. Then Reyna had this feeling—she said she should try it alone. She thought—maybe—it would only talk to a girl. She went up to the spirit by herself, and sure enough, it spoke to her."

               The other eight waited in baited silence, especially Leo, Piper, and Elisa. Stories of Jason before his memory wipe were all so interesting—it was almost like hearing about a completely different Jason Grace. ( And in a way, it was. )

               When he didn't continue, Annabeth prodded the topic. "What'd the spirit tell Reyna?" she questioned, peering at the blond with raised eyebrows.

               "Reyna never told me. She refused to," he admitted. "But I knew it had to be important. When she came back she was pretty … shaken up. I figured that maybe she got a prophecy or some bad news. But …" he trailed off, almost like he was unsure to give this piece of information, "she never did act the same around me after that."

               Elisa's eyes narrowed on the son of Jupiter. She didn't fail to notice the way Reyna looked at Jason—with this sense of longing but deep resentment, as if she did miss him for all those months but didn't want to face the fact she had been left behind. It was a feeling Elisa understood. She also didn't fail to notice the way Jason tried to talk about Reyna as little as possible. With his memories back, there must be things he does remember about his life at Camp Jupiter—about Reyna especially. But …

               While she was walking around with Piper and Jason, she had heard other Romans talking about how it was pretty normal for praetors to start dating—something about spending so much time together, it was inevitable that the two leaders grow close. It made her skin crawl knowing that Percy had been made praetor, but Jason had also been praetor, and for far longer than Percy ever was. She looked at Piper and the daughter of Aphrodite only shrugged, like this was an idea she had long since considered—that maybe, at one point in time, Reyna and Jason were almost dating, if they already hadn't started. Or at the very least, it was what everyone had expected of the two since they were praetors together.

               Not that it was Elisa's place to say anything to Delaney. ( Unless she forcibly made it her place. ) But she was certainly going to prod Jason about this later.

               Annabeth adjusted her grip on her knife. "A girls' adventure, then," she decided. "Lisa, Pipes, Abilene, and Hazel can come with me. We'll try to find that ghost in Battery."

               Elisa's expression twisted at the command from Annabeth ( because it certainly wasn't an offer or suggestion ). Not even counting the recent experience with the eidolons, approaching ghosts wasn't exactly something on her bucket list—especially spirits that change people with bad news or prophecies. She's already had her fill of bad news and prophecies. However, she didn't try and argue with Annabeth, and neither did Hazel, Abilene, or Piper. Though, Hazel did look nervous. No doubt her time in the Underworld had given her enough experiences with ghosts for two lifetimes. Abilene didn't look stoked about going ghost hunting either, especially after her personal run-in with the eidolons. Piper nodded to Annabeth, and she looked the least nauseous of Abilene, Hazel, and herself about leaving to go ghost hunting.

               Elisa realized something—she, the other girls on this ship, along with Leo, Jason, and Frank all leaving to go on separate missions would leave Percy alone. Even worse, alone with only Coach Hedge. It wasn't exactly the situation a caring girlfriend should leave her boyfriend in. Truthfully, she wasn't exactly happy about leaving him so she couldn't be around him—not after Hera kidnapping him and putting him to sleep for so many months. She looked up at him, they locked eyes, and she asked him a silent question. He shrugged lightly and nodded as if to say, Yeah, I'll be fine.

               Besides, Elisa reasoned with herself, he could use a break. Seeing those sea creatures trapped and drugged really rattled him. But there was also clearly something else he was keeping. She just knew it, especially with the way Frank glanced at Percy at the mention of the twin giants.

               "It's settled," decided Annabeth. She looked to Leo, who was studying his console as Festus creaked and clicked over the intercom. "Leo, how long until we reach Charleston?"

               "Good question …" he murmured. "Festus just detected a large group of eagles behind us—long-range radar, still not in sight."

               Piper worriedly leaned over, trying to make sense of the console. "You sure they're Roman?" she asked, peering up at Leo through her lashes.

               The son of Hephaestus rolled his eyes dramatically. "No, Pipes. It could just be a random group of eagles flying in a perfect formation." He stamped his foot as she shrunk back in embarrassment. "Of course they're Roman! I s'pose we could turn the ship around and fight—"

               "Which would be a very bad idea," Jason broke in, frowning down at the console. "It would remove any doubt that we're enemies of Rome."

               "I've got another idea," Leo replied. "If we went straight to Charleston, we could be there in a few hours. But the eagles would overtake us, and things would get complicated—well, more complicated. Instead, we could send out a decoy to trick the eagles. We take the ship on a detour, go the long way to Charleston, and get there tomorrow morning—"

               Hazel was already starting to protest the idea, opening her mouth to say something; however, Leo raised his hand to continue. "I know, I know," he told her quickly. "Nico's in trouble and we have to hurry."

               "It's June twenty-seventh," she said. "After today, four more days. "Then, he dies."

               Elisa's stomach churned and she forced herself to take a deep, attempted calming breath. Leo glanced at her quickly. "I know!" His voice had turned shrill. "But this might throw the Romans off our tail. We still should have enough time to reach Rome."

               Hazel frowned. "When you say should have enough—?"

               "How d'you feel about barely enough?" Leo replied back, his tone short.

               The daughter of Pluto put her face in her hands, her lips mouthing the count to three. "This sounds just about typical for us."

               Annabeth jumped in, pressing Leo on his plan. "What kind of decoy are we talking about here?"

               "So glad you asked, Annabeth!" The son of Hephaestus spun around, facing the console. Everyone watched as he punched a few buttons on the console, rotated the turntable, and repeatedly pressed the A button on his Wii controller really, really fast. He pressed the button to the intercom, saying, "Buford? Report for duty, please."

               Frank stared in bewilderment. "Someone else's on the ship? Who's Buford?"

               All of a sudden, a white puff of steam shot out from the stairwell. And a table Elisa recognized came clattering onto the deck—an automatic table Leo named Buford. She hadn't seen much of him since they left Camp Half-Blood. He mostly stayed in the engine room. ( Leo insisted that Buford had a secret crush on the engine. ) He was a three-legged table with a mahogany top. His bronze base had several drawers, spinning gears, and a set of steam vents. He was toting a bag like a mail sack that was tied to one of his legs. He made it to the helm, making a sound that was something like a train whistle.

               Leo grinned proudly at the table. "This is Buford," he announced to everyone.

               Frank slowly raised his eyebrows. "You name your furniture?"

               Leo snorted. "Man, you just wish you had furniture this cool. Buford," he turned back around to face the table, "you ready for Operation End Table?"

               Buford let out a stream of smoke. He clattered away, heading for the railing at the edge of the deck. Elisa watched with raised eyebrows as his mahogany top split into four—perfectly and evenly cut as they elongated into wooden blades. Then, as the blades started to spin, the three-legged table took off, the bag trailing after him.

               "A helicopter table …" Percy muttered under his breath. "I have to admit—that's cool. What's in the bag?"

               "Dirty demigod laundry." Leo shrugged, looking back at the son of Mars. "Hope you don't mind, Frank."

               There was a choking sound as Frank balked. "What?!"

               "It'll throw the eagles off our scent."

               "Those were my only extra pair of pants!"

               Leo shrugged in what looked to be his best attempt at remorseful. "I asked Buford to get them laundered and folded while he's out. Hopefully, he will." He spun around to face the stairwell Buford had just come from, grinning to himself. "Well! I call that a good day's work. I'm gonna calculate our detour route now. See y'all at dinner!"

Chapter Text

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter fifteen

━━ FOR AS LONG as she can remember, Annabeth did her best to put her past behind her. It had been nearly ten years since she first ran away from home; nearly ten years since she met Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace. Truth be told, Annabeth Chase was terrified of turning seventeen. It wasn't because she was scared of growing up, it was the age Kronos started talking to Luke in his dreams—whispering things, telling him how the world would be so much better if the Titans were ruling the world once more. She was scared the day she turned seventeen, it was less than a month away now, that Gaea—or even Kronos—would start talking to her.

               It was an irrational fear, and she knew that—that doesn't mean she didn't worry. However, as she felt that small part of her brain worry, she could practically feel her ego bristle at the mere idea ( mere fear ) of her ending up like Luke. Her pride was like a little devil on her shoulder, whispering things into her ear—You saw Luke as Kronos whispered to him, you know what to look out for. You wouldn't be as stupid as to actually believe the Titan Lord. But she had also thought Luke would be smarter than to believe Kronos, too.

               With how hard she fought to put her past where it needed to stay—behind in, in the past—it was no wonder she never spoke about Luke anymore. She had known him for nearly a decade now—well, knew of him. She stopped knowing who Luke truly was when he became a pawn of Kronos and his Titan Army. He was as intertwined in her past as her mortal family—something she would like to forget about rather than spend hours upon hours mulling over. At least, with her mortal family, she could still go to them and talk; with Luke, she had to live with the knowledge that he sided with the Titans and died because of his betrayal.

               There was a time she did love him. As much as any twelve-year-old girl could. In all honesty, she wasn't even sure if it was love—if it was love, or this weird infatuation her mind conjured to try and cope with everything that happened between the two of them; between her and Luke. He was a pillar of her life from seven to twelve; he gave her the knife she still uses to this day, the knife he eventually used to …

               As much as she likes to ignore it, she can never fully deny the impact Luke Castellan had on her. As any seven-year-old girl, she clung to the admittedly attractive, older boy. Any seven-year-old would have, not even thinking about everything else they had made it through together. Her crush was obvious, and Annabeth could feel her insides twist when she even began to think about all the things she did to try and gain his attention. All the silly, little things she did that she was certain would win his love. It was probably the only thing she had those other young girls experienced, too—that stupid crush on some much older boy that would never happen.

               Luke wasn't naïve. If anyone was aware of the crush, it was always going to be him. Up until he became a pawn and spy for Kronos, he never did anything about it—until he did. He tried, many times, to use that stupid crush Annabeth had to try and convince her to fight for the Titans—for his side, as he always tried to insist instead of saying for the Titans. The horrible thing was, she was almost convinced at times. Luke did bad things, but he wasn't all bad. That's what she told herself; it was the idea she clung to as she watched him steal, lie, and kill for Kronos and the Titans—as he tried to get back at his father for what happened to him and his mother.

               In the end, Luke Castellan tainted every last memory Annabeth had of him. And she hates him for it.

               As he was dying, on the floor of the Olympian throne room, he asked if she had ever truly loved him. Originally, she thought he meant romantically—and perhaps some part of him did—but as the months wore on, she realized he may have meant it as, Do you still hold love for me after everything I did?

               The truth is, Annabeth doesn't really know. The quickest answer, off the top of her head, would be yes. She still holds love for Luke. But as time wore on, months spent searching for Percy, the more the anger started to build. None of this was Luke's fault ( that's what she tried to tell herself at least ), but the domino effect was in fully play—perhaps if Luke hadn't helped Kronos rise, then maybe it wouldn't have stirred Gaea into waking earlier. Perhaps she could be living at Camp Half-Blood with Luke, Thalia, Grover, and even Percy and Elisa. However, that was wishful thinking. That doesn't mean some part of her still didn't long for some sense of normalcy—as normal as a half-blood could get.