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Chapter Text

During the Heroic Age, just being a child of a god alone would not mean you were a hero. But if you were a hero, you became ímitheos, half-god. 

Perseus Kaimana Jackson - Percy to his friends, not that he has many of those - was destined to be both. 

He began his journey on a field trip in sixth grade. 

Percy was a student at Yancy Academy, a last shot boarding school for troubled youth. It could be said that Percy was a problem kid. After all, he’d been expelled from five schools in as many years, which was actually almost impressive for a middle schooler - and he always seemed to get into the most trouble on field trips. 

But he had promised his principal, his favorite teacher, his best friend, and the spirits of his ancestors that he would behave on this trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art - and he planned to, really! It’s just that Nancy Bobofit was such a bitch. 

Nancy was a freckled menace with a mane of orange-red curls and a knack for taking things that didn’t belong to her while convincing teachers that she was innocent of all wrongdoings, really! 

The main difference between her and Percy was that while she actually did the things she was accused of, her family had money, so teachers actually cared about her. Meanwhile, they just wrote Percy off as a future criminal. 

Percy wouldn’t act like he was perfect - he had what most adults called an attitude problem but what he called unrelenting anxiety and issues with tone (plus a healthy dose of distrust for authority that he got from his māmā and his theía). He also wasn’t an especially good student, his love for learning easily surpassed by his struggles with his dyslexia and ADHD. 

But one thing he wasn’t was a bully which meant he was a better person than Nancy - who was currently driving him insane by talking over Mr. Brunner’s lesson in the middle of the Graeco-Roman exhibit. 

Mr Brunner was their Latin teacher. He was a scruffy man with thick, graying hair and warm brown eyes. He was in a wheelchair that he had decked out to include a lap desk and an umbrella when he wanted it to. He wore tweed, always smelled like coffee, and kept a sword in his classroom. He was the coolest man Percy had ever met. He also happened to be the first teacher Percy had ever had who seemed to actually care about him. 

Now, Percy didn’t fully understand why he was taking Latin classes in middle school (rich people shit, he guesses), but the subject was actually super interesting for him. For some reason, Latin was easier for him to read than English and the old Graeco-Roman tales had been ingrained in his mind by his māmā and theía so that part was at least super easy. Memorizing the names of random Roman figures was way harder but Mr. Brunner somehow managed to make it fun. All of this made it so Latin was not only Percy’s favorite class, but also the only one he could force himself to pay attention to. 

On the other hand there was Ms. Dodds, the other teacher on the field trip, who may as well have been the devil incarnate. She was a statuesque old woman from Georgia who always wore a badass leather jacket with all black outfits, had sharp green eyes, and called people honey in the most condescending way possible.

No one would have been surprised if she had ridden a motorcycle into the classroom on the first day, probably directly into a student. Percy wanted to like her, but she seemed to have a vendetta against Percy specifically. This was showcased by her currently giving him the Evil Eye whenever he tried to shush his classmates. 

Mr. Brunner was currently talking about the art on the walls while Nancy made jokes about the naked men on the steles. No one seemed to care about her crude comments but when Percy hissed at her to shut up, the room went silent. Of course. 

“Mr. Jackson, do you have something to add?” Mr. Brunner asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Percy ducked his head. “No, sir,” he mumbled. 

“Well, while you have my attention, what does this art represent?” Mr. Brunner asked. 

Percy hated being the center of attention, but his māmā’s habit of having his bedtime stories be the Greek myths, made it so he immediately recognized the depiction on the stele. “That’s Kronos eating his kids, right?” he asked. 

“Correct,” Mr. Brunner said, a hint of a smile on his kind face. “And why did he do this?” 

Percy aimed for confidence as he answered. “Kronos was the king god at the time, though they called him and his siblings Titans, and he heard a…uh…prophecy that he was gonna be overthrown by one of his kids, so he ate them? Or, well, he ate five of them. His wife, Rhea, the queen of the Titans, hid their youngest and tricked him into eating a rock instead. 

“Then the youngest, Zeus, grew up and trained and stuff and eventually came back with his first wife, Metis, an ocean nymph, and they tricked Kronos into eating like…a gross combo of mustard and wine so he’d barf up Zeus’s brothers and sisters - ” 

“Nice!” one of the guys behind Percy interjected. 

“ - and then there was a huge war between the Olympians and the Titans, called the Titanomachy, which the Olympians won. And Zeus became the new king god,” Percy finished, chewing on his lip. 

“Absolutely correct, Mr. Jackson,” Mr. Brunner said. 

“Okay, but who cares?” Nancy muttered to her friends. “This Greek shit doesn’t matter. What job is gonna ask you why Kronos ate his kids?” 

“What a wonderful point, Miss Bobofit,” Mr. Brunner said serenely. Nancy turned a bright red, a couple of shades darker than her curls. “Do you have an answer, Mr. Jackson?” 

Why was Percy being targeted here, again? He sighed. “Well, uh, you can always learn from the past,” he said. “Isn’t there some quote about not knowing the past and then making the same mistakes? And, also, there are still jobs in studying Greek myth, so I guess one of those.” 

Mr. Brunner nodded, though he didn’t seem fully satisfied. “An excellent answer,” he said. “Full credit. Zeus did indeed trick his father into disgorging his siblings with a mixture of mustard and wine. The other soon-to-be Olympians, being immortal, had been able to age unimpeded in their father’s stomach and emerged fully grown. The gods defeated their father, cut him up into hundreds of pieces, and scattered them into the darkest pit of the Underworld, Tartarus. Anyways, on that happy note, lunch time! Ms. Dodds, please lead the way.” 

At lunch, they were sitting outside. It was a dreary day with overcast skies, the clouds almost black as a storm began to brew. The weather had been odd since Christmas, but Percy tried to ignore it as he sat down at the fountain next to his only friend, Grover Underwood. 

Grover was a cool kid with dark brown skin and thick curly hair who would’ve been the most unpopular student in their year if it weren’t for Percy and his unquenchable need to stand up to bullies. He was a socially awkward nerd with a passion for environmental activism and good Mexican food, especially enchiladas, and his need for crutches made him a prime target for assholes. Percy loved him with his entire heart. 

“Dude, how do you know so much about Greek Mythology? You hate school,” Grover said. 

Percy shrugged. “Māmā loves the subject, so the myths were my bedtime stories,” he said. “She would’ve been a Classicist, but she had to drop out of high school so she never got to study it in college.” 

“Wow,” Grover said. “That’s wild.” 

“Hey, man, you have something in your hair,” Percy pointed out. 

Grover brushed it out. “Oh, it’s just Nancy’s gross lunch. She’s been throwing pieces of it at me since we got on the bus.” 

“Dude,” Percy said. “You gotta stand up for yourself.” 

“I know, I know! But Nancy just doesn’t matter, okay? I don’t care what she does!” 

“What was that, cripple?” Nancy sneered, as she sauntered up, followed by her bully friends. “You got something to say?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Nancy!” Percy snapped. 

“Aw, look, the retard defending the cripple. How precious!” Nancy cooed. She then proceeded to dump her lunch on Grover’s lap, peanut butter and ketchup sandwich and all. 

“Oops!” she said. “I swear, the spaz must be contagious, I really need to stay away from you freaks.” 

Percy saw red, but he stayed sitting, even as a wave roared in his ear. However, next thing he knew, Nancy was sitting in the fountain, screaming bloody murder. “Percy pushed me!” 

“What?! No I didn’t!” Percy exclaimed. 

Ms. Dodds chose that moment to materialize in front of them and grab Percy by the ear. He yelped in pain as she hissed, “Come with me, honey. You stay right here, Mr. Underwood. I have no use for you.” 

“But - ” 

“Stay!” Ms. Dodds snarled before dragging Percy off. 

As they stormed past Mr. Brunner, who was absorbed in his novel, Percy felt a weight settle into his pocket. 

When they reached the Graeco-Roman exhibit, Ms. Dodds let Percy go and strode up to a frieze of the gods, a manic expression contorting her face. 

Percy shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a heavy metal pen sitting in his right pocket that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He felt goosebumps erupt down his arms. Ms. Dodds was making some heavy growling noise as she stared at the frieze, murder in her fiery green eyes. 

Even without the weird, bestial noise, Percy would’ve been freaked out. Why was the exhibit so empty and dark? What was Ms. Dodds going to do to him? He didn’t think she cared that physical punishment was illegal in New York. 

“Save us the trouble, Perseus Jackson, and admit you did it,” Ms. Dodds said cryptically. “Confess and you will suffer less pain. I do not wish to hurt you, since you come from the same breed as us.” 

“Wh - what, ma’am?” Percy asked. “I promise I didn’t push Nancy!” 

Ms. Dodds turned to Percy, her lips curling oddly away from her teeth. “We are not fools, Perseus Jackson,” she said. “Tell the truth of what you did and your punishment will end in death alone!” 

“D - death?!” Percy croaked, his eyes wide. “I didn’t do anything!” 

Thunder rumbled around them. 

“I do not like liars, little halfling. Face your punishment!” Ms. Dodds roared as her eyes began to glow like coals, her bared teeth lengthening into fangs, while leathery wings erupted from her back and claws grew from her fingertips. Percy’s teacher disappeared, being replaced by a horrific creature of pure fury. 

She lunged forward and, running completely on autopilot, Percy whipped the strange pen out of his pocket, whipping the lid off. It morphed into the white-copper sword Mr. Brunner kept in his room. 

As Ms. Dodds flew at him, Percy did what felt natural and slashed the sword. As it carved into her side, she immediately began to dissolve, like a sandcastle hit by an ocean wave, leaving behind a dying screech and the smell of brimstone. 

Percy collapsed to the ground in a dead faint, the sword transforming back to a pen as it fell out of his hand. 

When he awoke, it was on the bus, sitting next to Grover. The other boy smiled weakly. “Hey sleeping beauty,” he said. “Mrs. Kerr’s lecture must’ve really brought you down, huh? You crashed as soon as we got on the bus.” 

“Wha - ?” Percy mumbled. “Who’s Mrs. Kerr?” 

“Our math teacher?” Grover said, an odd tone in his tone. 

“Wha - no, our math teacher is Ms. Dodds.” 

Grover stared at Percy, his face almost perfectly blank. “Who’s Ms. Dodds?” 

Chapter Text

Look, Percy had some very real anger issues, so of course he had been forced through a lot of counseling over the years. He knew exactly what gaslighting was. And he was pretty sure his whole school was gaslighting him right now.  

Absolutely no one would admit that Ms. Dodds existed. They all kept acting like Mrs. Kerr - some random blonde woman who seemed to think every single day was a blessing - had been teaching them pre-algebra since Christmas. 

The only person who ever slipped up was Grover, who got a shifty look in his eyes every time Percy mentioned their demon math teacher. 

Percy could feel himself getting more and more frazzled and aggressive as time went on. He was anxious all the gods be damned time and had frequent dreams of Ms. Dodds lunging at him, claws first. It got to the point where he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months. 

His grades started getting worse, he’d almost punched Nancy several times, and it all culminated in him losing his shit at his English teacher after he called him lazy. He’d called the old bastard an ‘arrogant, pretentious sod’ - he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but it sounded good. 

Percy was told he would not be allowed back at Yancy the next semester - which he was, frankly, fine with. 

He missed his māmā and theía. Percy would do anything to be back with them in their shitty apartment on the Upper East Side, even if it meant dealing with his terrible stepfather and his equally awful friends. 

He’d miss Grover and Mr. Brunner - specifically the feeling of having a teacher who actually cared about him; not to mention the joy of being away from Smelly Gabe (his stepfather, who got that nickname when Percy was 8 years old due to smelling like a molding gym shoe someone had buried in a pile of months-old unwashed laundry) but maybe he’d even feel somewhat safe again, away from Yancy. Though, that was unlikely, since it had been years since he had last felt truly safe in his apartment. 

As it got closer to exam week, Percy didn’t bother to prepare for any classes other than Mr. Brunner’s. Focusing in or on any other class would be a study in pointlessness - none of the other teachers cared about him or working around his accommodations so he was guaranteed to fail them all. 

One night, he was lying in bed, trying desperately to figure out what his textbooks said. The English was a jumbled mess and the Latin was much easier to read but still a bit all over the place. All of the names were so long and complicated and some of them were obnoxiously similar to each other. How was he supposed to remember the differences between Charon and Chiron? That was the exact same name! 

With pure rage, Percy threw his textbook across the room, watching with satisfaction as it hit the wall and then the floor. He took a minute to do his stupid breathing exercises to calm down before standing up and deciding to head to Mr. Brunner’s room - to ask for help or plead for forgiveness for the shit grade was about to get, he didn’t know. Mr. Brunner would be beyond disappointed in him - he’d always acted like Latin was the most important class Percy could ever take. 

Percy had never asked a teacher for help before but Mr. Brunner was different than most teachers; he actually cared. Percy actually cared what he thought about him. 

As Percy walked through the faculty hallway, he noticed how every office was dark except for Mr. Brunner’s, light spilling out of the room from the crack of a slightly ajar door. 

He was only a few steps away when he heard voices. “…worried about Percy, sir,” Grover said. 

Percy froze in place. He wasn’t normally an eavesdropper, but how could he walk away when he heard his best friend talking about him behind his back to his favorite teacher? 

“I don’t want him to be alone this summer,” Grover continued. “I mean, one of the Kindly Ones at the school?! I’ve never heard of that happening before.” 

“It would be more dangerous if he learned of his heritage so soon,” Mr. Brunner said. “He needs to mature more.” 

“What if he doesn’t have time? The summer solstice is so close - ” 

“He doesn’t need to handle that. Let him have his ignorance for as long as he can, Grover.” 

“But, sir, he - he saw her.” 

“She was a figment of his imagination,” Mr. Brunner said sternly. “He’s already starting to doubt himself.” 

“I can’t fail again,” Grover choked out. “I can’t lose another one.” 

“Oh, Grover, you haven’t failed.” Mr. Brunner radiated kindness. “I can’t believe I didn’t see her for what she was. All we need to worry about right now is keeping Percy alive - ” 

Percy’s fingers went numb and he dropped his Latin textbook. The sound of it hitting the ground echoed in the abrupt silence surrounding him. Percy fled, his  heart in his throat. 

As he slipped through the door out of the hallway, he heard something like the clopping of horse hooves approach Mr. Brunner’s door. 

“What are you doing, sir?” Grover asked, his voice faint due to distance. 

There was silence for a moment before Mr. Brunner replied. “Nothing, I suppose. I just thought I heard something.” 

Percy huffed out a relieved breath before hurrying to his room, his heart still pounding. He managed to slip into his bed, textbook open to some random page on his lap, moments before Grover reappeared at their door. “Hey man,” he said. “You ready for tomorrow’s exams?” 

Percy stared at him in silence for a moment, his brows furrowed, before shrugging. “No way,” he said, returning his attention to Latin even as his thoughts raced. 

He didn’t know what was going on but this was confirmation: Grover and Mr. Brunner had been lying to him. He wasn’t going crazy; Ms. Dodds was real. 

Exams the next day were just as brutal as Percy had feared they were going to be. He had a migraine from trying to fight through his dyslexia, a crick in his neck from the way he was hunched over his papers, and a numb hand from how he held his pencils. Percy fucking hated exams. 

When he finished his Latin exam, he walked up to Mr. Brunner’s desk and deposited the bundle of papers into the pile. Mr. Brunner looked up from the book he was reading and smiled warmly; Percy’s own answering smile was wan. 

“Percy,” he began. “Don’t be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It is…for the best.” 

Mr. Brunner sounded encouraging but that didn’t stop shame from creeping up Percy’s cheeks. Tears swam in his eyes. “Okay, sir,” he croaked. Behind him, he heard Nancy snicker cruelly. 

“What I mean to say is…” Mr. Brunner took a minute to deliberate on his words. “This isn’t the right place for you. It was simply a matter of time.” 

Percy inhaled sharply through his nose. He knew he didn’t fit in at Yancy, there didn’t seem to be a place where he truly fit in, but his teacher’s words were still a javelin through his chest. He respected and appreciated Mr. Brunner but his words seemed needlessly mean. “I understand, sir. You don’t need to tell me I’m too dumb for this school, I already knew that.” 

“Percy, wait, no - ” Mr. Brunner began but Percy was already gone. 

After school on the last day, Percy shoved all of his belongings into his bags. For the last week, the rich kids he went to school with had been bragging about their summer plans - hiking trips in Switzerland, cruises through the Caribbean - because while they might also be delinquents, they weren’t the same as Percy. They were rich and, to put it simply, he was not. He had no special plans, unless you included going to the community garden with his Theía Dee. His classmates had important family members; Percy Jackson was a nobody from a family of nobodies. 

There was only one person Percy was dreading saying goodbye to but luckily for him, Grover had ended up on the same bus going home as him. When Percy had shot him a questioning look, the shorter boy had shrugged and said he lived in Long Island. 

While on the bus, Grover was wringing his hands and his eyes twitched from side to side. Still irritated from hearing him talking to Mr. Brunner behind his back, Percy couldn’t resist the urge to prod. “Looking for Kindly Ones?” he asked, his lips twisting. 

Grover jumped a foot in the air. “Ki - what do you mean?” he squeaked out. 

“I heard you talking to Mr. Brunner the other day,” Percy admitted. “It’s messed up to talk about me behind my back, man.” 

Grover’s eye twitched. “How much did you hear?” 

“Not much - something about a deadline on the Summer Solstice?” 

The Summer Solstice had always been a day Percy had celebrated with his māmā and theía. He remembered māmā teaching him how to make a honey donut while Theía Dee laughed and ate dried figs. 

Grover grimaced, ducking his head. “I’m sorry, man. I’m just worried about you, okay? Hallucinating random math teachers and - ” 

Percy interrupted him. “Hey Grover? Anyone ever tell you that you’re terrible at lying?” 

Grover flushed, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slightly bent business card. “Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer.” 

On the business card, in cursive script that was terrible for Percy’s poor dyslexia, it said: 

Grover Underwood 

Keeper 

Half-Blood Hill 

Long Island, New York 

(800) 009-0009. 

“Dude, you know I have dyslexia, right?” 

Grover scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, man. Anyways, that's my…summer address. I kind of need to…protect you.” 

Percy couldn’t help but make a face. Right, Grover must be rich too. He felt a tight knot in his stomach at the second part of Grover’s statement; he didn’t like the implication that Grover thought he’d need him. Percy loved Grover, that was his best friend, but he didn’t like relying on people, and anyways he’d been the one protecting Grover from bullies this last year, not the other way around. 

“What could you protect me from?” 

Okay, that came across harsher than Percy had intended. 

Before Grover could respond, the bus stopped with a loud grinding noise. Black smoke billowed out from under the hood; a disgusting stench of something not dissimilar to rotting eggs filled the interior. The driver let out a string of curses that Percy’s theía would have washed his mouth out for before inching the bus to the side of the road. 

After spending a few minutes in the engine compartment, the driver told everyone to get off the bus. Grover and Percy filed into line and did so. 

They were in the middle of a country road - the kind that was surrounded by fields and the occasional produce stand. There was nothing that seemed particularly special about it, just maple trees, some litter, and one of those produce stands. The food in it looked absolutely delicious too, all the fruit fat and colorful. There were no customers though, just three old ladies sitting around the table, knitting a giant pair of electric blue socks together. One woman was working on one sock, while another worked on the other, and the woman in the middle held a huge basket of yarn on her lap. 

They all seemed to be staring directly at Percy. 

Even without the weird amount of eye contact, something about these women set Percy on edge. They were genuinely ancient, with tiny wrinkled faces and pure white hair tucked under bandanas, but they didn’t look like gentle grandmothers; something about them was somehow both wild and stern. They felt like the kind of old ladies who’d say something chaotic and out of pocket, but demand you treat it as sage words of wisdom. 

Next to him, Grover inhaled shakily. “Oh - oh no,” he whispered, sounding seconds away from tears. “Perce, man, please tell me they’re not looking at you.” 

Percy’s lips felt strangely numb as he replied, “They’re not looking at me.” 

Percy felt something cold travel down his spine as the woman in the middle’s eyes narrowed while she pulled out a deadly pair of silver and gold scissors and cut the yarn. It wasn’t possible, but Percy could’ve sworn he heard the sound of the snip from where he stood across the highway. 

It was at that moment the bus roared back to life and the driver and all the passengers started cheering - everyone but Percy and Grover. 

“Damn right!” the driver hollered before getting them back on the bus. 

As they got back into their seats, Percy could’ve sworn he heard Grover muttering, “Why is it always sixth grade? They never survive past twelve years old….” 

If Percy had looked at Grover, he would've seen tears dripping down his cheeks as he stared at him with huge, mournful eyes. 

But Percy didn’t notice this because all he could think was of the stories Theía Dee had always told him - specifically of the stories about the Moirai. Threads being cut short were never a good thing in those tales. 

Chapter Text

This might make Percy a bad friend, but he ditched Grover as soon as they got to Manhattan. He had Grover’s number and he planned to call him to let him know he got home safely, but he just couldn’t handle the way Grover kept staring at Percy like he was already dead. 

Percy just really wanted to go home. He missed his māmā and theía. 

The thing about Kala’i - she always introduced herself as Sally - Jackson and Deo Kidaria is that they were two of the best women on the planet, with some of the worst luck. Sally had been orphaned when she was only five, her parents dying in a plane crash. She had then been sent to live with an uncle straight out of a fairy tale - a wildly neglectful and uncaring man. Sally wanted to be a novelist, so she’d spent her high school years working while getting the best grades possible so she could afford to go to a school with a good creative writing program, but her uncle had been diagnosed with cancer in her senior year. Despite his poor treatment of her over the years, she dropped out to focus on taking care of him, but when he’d died she’d been left with no family, no money, and no prospects for a better life. 

When she was twenty-two, she met an older couple who became enamored with her. She’d quickly fallen in love with them in return. 

But they were important people and though they loved Sally, their relationship had to be kept a secret. Only two people knew: Percy’s maternal aunt, Dee, and his paternal aunt, Mia. Theía Dee had been determined to be a part of Percy’s life, even after Percy’s métēr and patér had gone sailing into the Atlantic one day and never returned. Māmā always said they were lost at sea. 

Percy only had the faintest memories of his missing parents; the impression of a warm smile and a small hand running through his baby hair. 

Percy didn’t know as much about Dee, but what he did know was fucked up. She’d had an abusive father, an absent mother who focused on her youngest sibling, and an adult daughter that she adored but who she had a strained relationship with. 

Dee didn’t live with him and Sally, but she visited a few times a month. She doted on Sally and Percy both. 

Sally, however, had always been Percy’s primary caretaker and the best māmā in the world. When he was younger, he remembered her going to night classes to get a diploma, while working all day to try and keep a roof over their heads. She never complained about any of this, though, and always managed to keep a cool head around Percy, raising him with love and patience. 

When he was a toddler, she married a man named Gabriel Ugliano. Percy didn’t think she married him for love but, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure why she had married him. Smelly Gabe was an asshole to the nth degree who constantly treated both Sally and Percy terribly. He didn’t seem to have any money, relying on Sally to pay all the bills. He did nothing but drink all day while playing poker with his friends, leaving huge messes everywhere for Sally and Percy to clean. Also, he was ugly and smelled like shit. 

Percy hated him. 

When Percy got home, Gabe was in the middle of one of his all but daily poker games. The TV was blasting in the background, there were chips crushed into the carpet, and the entire apartment reeked of cigar smoke and Gabe’s BO. Percy grimaced, repressing the urge to gag. 

Gabe looked up from his game when Percy came in and sneered. “Oh, you’re back,” he said. He had a cigar hanging from his mouth and a nasty look gleaming in his pale blue eyes. 

Percy ignored him. “Where’s my mom?” he asked. 

“Where’s my cash?” 

Of course that was the first real thing Gabe said. He’d never cared about Percy in the slightest; he didn’t even really care about Sally, just seemed to see her as a free meal ticket. 

He stole any money Percy managed to get too. And if Percy tried to fight back, well…he was twelve and Smelly Gabe was in his forties. Percy had learned not to physically resist him. 

Technically, he was a manager at a Electronic Mega-Mart in Queens but it wasn’t clear how he was still employed there considering he never showed up to any of his shifts.  

“You mean my money?” Percy retorted. “I don’t fucking have any.” 

“Watch your fuckin’ language, shithead,” Gabe snapped, arching an eyebrow. He could always be counted upon to find hidden money. “And don’t fuckin’ lie to me either. You had to have taken a taxi from the bus station, which would’ve cost about thirteen, maybe fourteen dollars - and since you probably paid with a twenty, that should be at least six left over. You’re a man and you live in my house - you’re expected to carry your own weight. Ain’t that right, Eddie?” 

Eddie, the building superintendent, grimaced. “C’mon, man, the kid just got home. Take it easy on him.” 

“I said, ain’t that right, Eddie?” Gabe snarled. 

Eddie scowled down at the table. Gabe’s other two friends snickered loudly. 

“Whatever,” Percy said, yanking out a wad of singles and throwing them at Gabe before stomping to his room. “I hope you fucking lose!” 

“Mind your manners, smartass!” Gabe shouted after him. “I saw your fuckin’ report card! You’re not better than me!” 

Percy slammed his door shut, his nose wrinkling as he looked around his room. During the school year, Gabe always took over his room and made it into a total pig sty. He left dirty clothes, muddy shoes, car magazines, and cigar butts everywhere. The entire room reeked of shitty gross cologne, cigars and booze, and Gabe’s general stench. 

Home sweet fucking home. 

Gabe’s smell almost made Percy forget about Ms. Dodds and the trio of old ladies and their scissors but even in his own home, Percy couldn’t escape his fears or the sensation of something ancient watching him just beyond where he could comprehend it. 

At least, until he heard his mother’s voice. “Percy?” 

When his door opened and his mom walked in, Percy felt his anxieties melt away. 

Sally was the kind of woman who made people good just by existing. She had a warm smile and kind eyes. Her long black locs, which she kept piled on top of her head, had started graying but other than that and a few laugh lines, she didn’t look old. 

She always sought to see the good in people, accepting imperfections easily. She had a soft voice that she never raised in anger or frustration - not even towards her terrible husband or her struggling son. 

She was still in her work uniform as she sat down next to him and smelled like her workplace: like chocolate and cinnamon and licorice. She smiled and pressed a kiss to Percy’s forehead while running a calloused hand through his hair, before pulling out a bag of “free samples” with a wink. “How’s my sweet prince?” she asked. “Tell me about the things you didn’t include in your letters.” 

Percy blushed and told her not to call him that but then he talked about reading comics with Grover late into the night, about getting a B-plus on a Latin assignment, about sneaking out and wandering through the woods surrounding Yancy Academy. No matter what he said, Sally didn’t express any disapproval and chuckled at his funnier anecdotes, her laugh telling him he was finally home. 

They shared blueberry sour strings and got caught up, ignoring that he’d been expelled, that his grades had been less than stellar, that he had to be a disappointment to her - because his mom would never imply that Percy was anything less than a gift. 

“Hey, Sal - how ‘bout some bean dip, huh?” Gabe called from the living room. 

Percy gritted his teeth, his fists clenching. Stupid asshole had to ruin everything. 

Sally sent him a warning look. “Of course, dear! Just give me a minute!” she called back before returning her attention to her son. “What about the end of the year, sweetie?” she asked. 

Percy puffed out his cheeks like a blowfish. “It really wasn’t too bad,” he said. “I did pretty good in my Latin class and tried my hardest in my other classes. It was really nice to have a friend to study with. I know the school said I got into lots of fights but it was the normal kind of stuff - you know I can’t back down when jerks are picking on people weaker than them. It really wasn’t too bad! I mean up to the field trip - ”

Sally’s smile fell as Percy cut himself off, her expression crumpling into concern. “Baby, what happened - ” 

“Sal! Where’s my fuckin’ bean dip, babe?” Gabe hollered. 

Sally’s lips pressed together into a tight frown. “Okay, baby, how about you tell me the rest when we go to the beach this weekend?” 

Percy stared up at his mom, his eyes shining. “Montauk?” he asked excitedly. 

“Yep, at our cabin. Three whole nights, just you and me!” 

Their cabin at Montauk had been the only piece of Sally’s inheritance that her uncle hadn’t been able to squander. It had belonged to her māmā, Stella Lee, and had been passed down to Sally when she died. Sally had met Percy’s other parents on that beach. 

They hadn’t had the money to visit it in almost two years. 

“When are we going?” Percy asked, an eager smile curling his lips upwards. 

“As soon as I get dressed,” Sally said, beaming down at her son. 

Gabe chose that moment to appear, glowering as he loomed over them in the doorway. “Jeez, Sal, you goin’ fuckin’ deaf or something? Can I get some fuckin’ bean dip now?” 

Percy’s fists clenched but before he could say anything, he met his mom’s eyes and saw her steely expression. Right, keep his mouth shut, that’s how he gets what he wants. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Sally cooed. “As thanks for letting me and Percy go to Montauk, I got you something even better than a normal ol’ bean dip.” 

Gabe sneered. “Wait, you weren’t fucking around? You’re really going to that shithole?” 

“Yes, Gabriel. Percy and I are going to the beach while you enjoy your guys’ weekend! I made a seven layer dip for it, even, with the works. You know, guac’, sour cream….” Sally said, a horribly fake smile on her face. “The works.” 

Gabe hummed. “And the money for the trip is comin’ outta your clothes’ budget?” 

Sally’s mouth tightened imperceptibly. “Yes, of course,” she said. 

“I might be okay with this if I get that dip quick…and if the little asshole apologizes for interrupting my poker game.” 

Percy’s nostrils flared as his jaw tensed. He would not be apologizing to Gabe for fucking anything! 

Sally caught his eye and smiled softly. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils. “I am…so sorry for interrupting your super important poker game. You should go back to it right now.” 

Gabe’s eyes narrowed as if he was trying to detect any (of the incredibly obvious) sarcasm in Percy’s words. “Whatever,” he grunted. He went back to his game. 

Sally sighed. “Thanks, sweetie. Go ahead and get ready, okay? We’ll talk more at the cabin.” 

Sally’s jaw was tight, but she smiled weakly at Percy and gestured for him to start getting ready as she left the room. 

By the end of the hour, Percy had his and his mom’s stuff packed into Gabe’s car, a ‘78 Camaro that he cared more about than he did about Sally and Percy combined. 

Gabe stood at the door of the apartment, a menacing expression on his face. “Not a single fuckin’ scratch, ya hear me shithead? Not one.” He directed this at Percy, as if Percy would be the one behind the wheel. Percy huffed a slow breath out his nose before heading to the backseat of Gabe’s car. 

Before he could get in though, the anger that had been threatening to overwhelm him finally took control as he heard Gabe jeer to Sally, “This might be coming out of your clothing budget, but you’ll still owe me when you get home, sweetheart. Better be ready.” 

Percy unthinkingly turned to face Gabe, making a symbol with his hand he’d seen Grover do on the bus, while rambling about the three old ladies they’d seen. It resembled a claw over his heart, and he felt something ancient rush through him as he thrust it outwards, at Gabe like a shove as the man walked back into the apartment.  The screen door behind him slammed shut, hitting him on the ass. 

They took off quickly after that. 

Their cabin was at the south shore, right by the tip of Long Island, about a two hour drive from their apartment. The cabin itself was pretty dilapidated, pastel green paint peeling off on the outside, the foundation seeming to sink into the dunes. There was always sand in the sheets and at least a few spiders around.

Percy loved it. 

Whether that was because it had been his tūtū’s or because it was the only place Sally ever talked about his patér and métēr - or even simply because it was the only place Percy got to spend time with his māmā without having to deal with Gabe - he didn’t know. Occasionally, Theía Dee would join them at Montauk, but when Percy asked about her, Sally sighed. 

“Your aunt is busy right now, baby,” she said. “Some…family stuff came up.” 

“With her daughter?” Percy asked. He’d never met Theía Dee’s daughter, she’d already been an adult when Percy was born (despite Dee not looking much older than Sally did) and her relationship with her mom had been tense for a long time. 

Sally hummed. “No, baby. Some of her other family. Your patér and métēr didn't have a great relationship with them and asked me to keep you away from them until you were a bit older but Dee…can’t stay away. I’m sure you’ll see her soon.” 

Percy made a face before nodding. “Okay, māmā,” he said before falling into silence for the rest of the car ride, absentmindedly listening to his māmā’s playlist. 

They arrived at the cabin just before dark and together, got their stuff inside and did their quick cleaning routine, before getting a bonfire started. Once it blazed brightly, they huddled together and started roasting blue marshmallows, while snacking on blue jelly beans. 

Okay, at this point, most people would probably be wondering about the blue food. Gabe and Sally had gotten into a minor disagreement one day at the beginning of their relationship because Gabe said blue food didn’t exist. Now, Percy had gotten his level of spite from his māmā, so after that day Sally had gone out of her way to have them eat blue food. Blue birthday cakes, blueberry smoothies, blue tortilla chips, it didn’t matter. Half the food they ate was blue. Percy felt a small burst of satisfaction every time Gabe made a constipated face over it. 

Between that and Sally’s insistence on keeping her last name rather than becoming an Ugliano, Percy knew his māmā hadn’t really been cowed by the terrible man. 

The night went how most nights at Montauk went for them: it started with Sally telling Percy stories about her māmā and dad before they died, until Percy could build up the courage to ask about his own métēr and patér. 

Sally sighed, her dark eyes reflecting the ocean. “Your métēr and patér were…amazing,” she said. “Larger than life. Your métēr was the funniest woman I’ve ever met and you definitely got your strong sense of self from her, she had a spine of steel. And your patér was so kind and gentle, but was so fierce in defending what he loves. You remind me more of them every day, baby.” 

Percy wasn’t sure how he could possibly take like his métēr - he knew his māmā had given birth to him, he’d seen the pregnancy photos. But he didn’t like to ask too many questions about his other parents, his māmā always ended up shutting down the conversations whenever he did, saying she’d explain everything when he was older. 

She started chewing on a blue twizzler as she stared intently at the dark crashing waves. “I wish they could be here. They’d be so proud of you, Percy.” 

Percy didn’t understand how she could believe that; he didn’t even understand how she was proud of him. His average grade was a D, he was always causing problems and stress for her, and whenever he tried to help, it seemed to just make things worse. Percy was, at best, a walking disappointment. 

“How old was I? When they went on their trip through the Atlantic?” he asked. 

Sally’s expression spasmed as her gaze turned to the flames. “They were only with me for one summer, baby,” she said gently. “Right here at this beach.” 

“What? No,” Percy refuted. “They knew me as a baby.” 

“No, sweetie. They knew I was expecting but their trip was scheduled before you were born. They had to leave before they ever saw you.” 

Percy attempted to reconcile that with his own sense memories of a warm glow and matching smiles. 

He’s always assumed they knew him as a baby; Sally had never said it, but he’d never been able to imagine anything else. Percy felt anger flare up inside him again. He couldn’t help but resent them for going on their stupid ocean voyage, for abandoning his māmā with a baby, for being married without her. If they’d stuck around, he and his māmā would never have had to deal with Smelly Gabe. 

“Are you sending me away again?” He watched as his marshmallow caught flame. “To another boarding school?” 

Sally let out a strangled breath. “I don’t know, baby,” she whispered. “I just want you to be safe.” 

Percy flinched as a sudden rush of memories of all the scary things that had happened to him over the years overcame him. Like the time a snake had crawled into his cot at pre-school and he’d strangled it to death with his meaty toddler hands. Or the man in a black trench coat he’d seen in third grade, wearing a wide brim hat. His teachers had seen him and scared him away from the school but no one had believed Percy when he insisted the man only had one eye. 

“Māmā,” he began slowly, not wanting to continue but feeling like he had to. “It happened again.” 

Fear flashed in Sally’s eyes. “What?” 

“I…saw something that couldn't have existed again. It attacked me.” 

Sally clenched her eyes shut. “Percy,” she began haltingly. “Tell me everything.” 

Around them, it began to drizzle, the winds roaring. The fire went out. In a rush, Sally gathered their stuff and rushed them inside the cabin before sitting him on the couch and staring expectantly at him, her lips trembling. 

“My math teacher turned into a demon, māmā. She attacked me. Everyone told me I was going insane, but I know what happened!” 

“You got attacked?” Sally exclaimed. “No, no, no. They said it shouldn’t start happening til next year. No, fuck.” 

Percy startled at his mom’s uncharacteristic volume and cussing.  

“What are you talking about, māmā?” Percy asked. 

Sally crouched in front of him, grasping his arms tightly. “I need to take you somewhere safe, baby,” she whispered desperately. “A haven your parents told me about, somewhere you’ll belong.” 

Percy had never belonged anywhere. The only place he’d ever felt safe or accepted was at his mom’s side but she’d always sent him away. And it looked like she was going to do it again. “I don’t want to go!” he yelled. “You’re always telling me how proud of me you are and how much you love me, but you’re always sending me away! Why can’t I stay with you?” 

“Because I can’t keep you safe!” 

Around them, the storm had picked up into something terrifying. Waves crashed against the shore, rain pelted the walls, and lightning flashed, creating a false daytime. Sally sobbed. “Hurricane,” she gasped out. 

The ocean must have forgotten that Long Island never saw hurricanes this early in the summer. 

Over the roar of the wind, Percy heard a tortured bellowing sound, like an animal in such deep pain that it became vicious. 

Much closer, a pounding sound could be heard on the door. A familiar voice yelling, desperate to be heard. When Sally rushed to the door, throwing it open, Grover was revealed framed by the doorway, dark curls drenched and clinging to his face, his shoes missing. But he didn’t look like the Grover that Percy knew. 

 “I’ve been searching all night,” he heaved. “What were you thinking?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Sally said, her eyes wide with terror and determination. “We need to go. Now.” 

Grover cursed. “O Zeu kai álloi theoí!” he yelled. “He’s right behind me - how are we going to get around him?” 

Percy was too shocked to register that Grover was cursing in Elliniká. He couldn’t even wonder how Grover had managed to find him, hours away from Manhattan. Because while Grover stood in front of him, he wasn’t right. His eyes, his ears, his legs - all were different from how Percy’d perceived him for the past year. 

“Get to the car, boys!” Sally insisted. “Run!” 

And as Percy unthinkingly obeyed her, he suddenly understood how despite his limp while walking and the muscular dystrophy Grover had said he had, he’d always been able to run when it came to enchiladas in the cafeteria. 

Because as Grover ran, Percy could clearly see that he couldn’t be described as barefoot. Where feet should be, Grover had cloven hooves. 

Chapter Text

Sally Jackson may as well have been a race car driver in another life with how she tore down the winding country roads, in the middle of hurricane weather, at eleven pm. 

Percy had no idea how she managed to stay on the road with the winds shrieking around them and rain battering the windshields, but her foot never left the gas pedal. 

Lightning briefly illuminated the inside of the car, showing the panic on Sally’s face and Grover’s fur-covered legs. Was Percy actually insane, was this just some strange hallucination?  He was pretty sure most hallucinations only affected one sense at a time, though, and Percy could definitely smell wet wool. 

“So…you know my māmā?” Percy asked, his teeth chattering. 

Grover’s eyes frantically flitted around, locking onto the passenger side mirror for a moment, though there were no other cars on the road. “Not, not really. She knew I was watching you but we - we never met in person.” 

Percy recoiled slightly. “Watching me?” he asked. 

“Just - just keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were safe.” Grover bit his lower lip. “I promise I really am your friend.” 

“Okay, but what exactly are you? Because you’re definitely not human.” 

“I don’t think that matters right now.” 

“Doesn’t matter? Oh, I’m just supposed to accept that my best friend is half-donkey?” 

Grover let out sharp bleating noise, sounding supremely irritated. “Goat!” 

“What?” 

“I’m half-goat, not donkey!” 

“I thought it didn’t matter!” 

“There are satyroi that would trample you underhoof for that!” 

“S-satyr? Like in the myths?” 

Grover huffed. “Please - were the old ladies at the fruit stand a myth? For that matter, was Ms. Dodds?” 

“So you’re finally willing to admit she was real!” 

Grover bleated again. “Obviously!” 

“Then why did you lie to me?” 

“To keep you safe! When you’re ignorant, it keeps the monsters away! Or it should have!” 

“Boys!” Sally exclaimed. “I am trying very hard to not crash us into a ravine, can you please stop distracting me?” 

Percy ducked his head. “Sorry, māmā,” he muttered. 

Grover sighed. “I’m sorry too, Ms. Jackson.” 

Sally nodded. “Look, baby, there’s a lot to explain to you and no time to do it. I’m sorry. All you need to understand right now is that all the myths that your theía and I raised you with, are real. Okay? The ancient gods are all real and so are the beasts. And we’re running from one of the scariest ones right now.” 

Percy’s eyes widened. “Wait, but that means - ” 

“All the terrors you saw over the years were real? Yeah, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you but Grover is right, you were safer not knowing. If you knew…the only way you could’ve possibly been safe would be to send you to the haven your mother told me about - somewhere I’m not allowed.” Through the flashes of light, Percy saw tears bead up in his mother’s eyes. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d ever be able to leave once I took you there, so I just…kept it from you for as long as I could.” 

“But who exactly are we running from?” Percy asked, his voice shaking, ignoring the part where she said he may never see her again after this. That couldn’t be true. 

“Oh, nobody important. Just the Lord of the Dead and all of his most vicious underlings,” Grover quipped, his nostrils flaring. 

“Grover!” 

“Sorry again, Ms. Jackson. I get sarcastic when I’m scared for my life. Please drive faster.” 

Sally made a hard left turn, swerving onto a small dirt road surrounded by strawberry bushes, with signage that said to pick them yourselves. 

“Why is it so important that I get to this place now?” Percy asked. 

“You saw the Fates, Percy!” Grover snapped. 

“You saw what?!” Sally yelped. “Percy, you didn’t mention that!” 

“I mentioned that I saw a Kindly One or whatever and you freaked out! I didn’t have time!” 

“The demon math teacher was a Kindly One?! Perseus Kaimana!” 

Okay, maybe Percy had messed up. 

“Also, Percy, you didn’t just see the Fates, you specifically saw them cut a string!” Grover cut in. 

“I don’t know what that means!” 

“The Fates only show up like that when y - when someone is about to die,” Grover said grimly. 

Percy jerked back. “Dude, were you going to say ‘when you’re about to die’?” 

Grover grimaced. “No,” he said. 

“Holy shit, you were!” 

“Percy!” Sally said. “Language!” 

“Māmā, come on, it’s a stressful situation!” Percy said. 

Sally sighed. “Please, Percy. Just…don’t.” 

Percy clenched his jaw as he fell silent while she swerved right, allowing Percy to catch a glimpse of the figure Sally was trying to avoid - giant and heavily shadowed as it was lost in the storm. 

“Wh - what was that?” Percy asked. 

“One more mile, please just one more mile,” Sally begged, leaning forward. “Please, please, please.” 

Outside of the car, the landscape was dark and stormy - full of abandoned farmhouses and wooded hills, exactly what you expected from the tip of Long Island. Percy thought about Ms. Dodds, feeling his stomach turn as he recalled the way she’d transformed into a leathery winged beast. He wasn’t insane; she really hadn’t been human. She really had been trying to kill him. 

It was while he was distracted that lightning struck. Literally. For a moment, Percy felt weightless before suddenly he went crashing back to earth and pain radiated through his body. 

Percy winced as he pulled away from the seat he had been crushed into. “Ouch.” 

“Percy!” Sally exclaimed. 

“I’m okay, mom,” Percy muttered, before turning and seeing Grover slumped over, blood trickling out of the side of his mouth. “Grover!” 

“Percy, get out of the car,” Sally said, her voice deadly serious as she tried to get her seatbelt unbuckled and force her door open. She cursed as it refused to budge. “Crawl out the window.” 

“But, Grover - ” 

Grover took that moment to groan, “Food.” Percy sighed in relief - Grover would be fine. 

“Get out of the car, Percy!” Sally repeated as she crawled out her window. 

Percy scrambled to obey, dragging Grover along with him. Once they were out of the car, Sally grabbed Percy’s shoulders. Her jaw was clenched, her dark eyes sad. “Baby, you see that tree over there?” 

Percy looked where she gestured. There was a huge pine tree in the distance. “Yeah, I see it, māmā.” 

“You gotta get there, baby. There’ll be a big house in the valley below it. Scream for help as you run for it. Don’t stop.” 

“Wait, what? No, I’m not leaving you and Grover!” Percy exclaimed. 

Sally ignored him. “And listen - you can’t tell anyone about your patér. If someone asks, just tell them I told you about your métēr. Don’t mention your patér at all, do you understand?” 

“But māmā - ” 

“Do you understand, Perseus?” Sally repeated herself, her eyes wide. 

“Yes! I understand!” Percy said. 

“Good. I love you, baby. You are perfect, don’t let anyone make you doubt that. Now, please run!” 

“No! I’m not leaving - ” 

“Percy, we don’t have time to argue - ” 

They were interrupted by bellowing, the sound closer than before. Sally cursed, loudly and longer than she had earlier, before crouching down to hoist Grover up. Once he was secure in her arms, she took off running. “Fine, just come on!” 

Percy chased after her. As he was running he couldn’t help but look back and with a flash of lightning, he finally saw what was chasing them. 

After a lifetime of seeing monsters that no one else saw, you’d think nothing would surprise him. But the seven-foot-tall bodybuilder of a bull-man wearing pristine tighty-whities with cruel black eyes and lethally sharp horns behind them would prove you wrong. 

“Māmā, is that - ” Percy began. 

Sally interrupted him. “The starry bull, yes.” 

How the fuck was the Minotaur chasing after them right now? 

“But that’s the Mino - ” 

“Don’t say his name! Remember, baby, names have power.” Sally’s breathing was beginning to sound ragged. “And I’m sorry, I should’ve told you all this years ago, but right now we need to focus on running!” 

As they got closer to the tree, Sally suddenly stopped. “I can’t go any farther,” she said, sounding like she was about to start crying. “You have to get to that Big House, baby.” 

“Not without you!” Percy yelled. “I won’t let him hurt you!” 

Sally let out a shuddering breath as she laid Grover on the ground. “He’s not after me or Grover. He’s after you, honey. Please - ” 

The Minotaur stopped at Gabe’s destroyed car, seeming to sniff at it. It was only fifty feet away, Percy couldn’t understand why it bothered. 

“Can’t it see us?” Percy whispered to her. 

“No, his vision and hearing is terrible. He needs to rely on his sense of smell.” 

The Minotaur let out a rage-filled roar as it picked up the Camaro and threw it into the road, causing the engine tank to explode. 

Percy thought back to how Smelly Gabe had warned him against getting a scratch on it. Oops. 

“When he sees us, he’ll charge,” Sally said. “But he’s too big and it’ll be hard for him to quickly change direction. Make sure to stay perfectly still until the last second and then jump directly sideways. Do you understand?” 

Percy wanted to argue but the Minotaur was closing in on them. Sally picked Grover back up, throwing him over her shoulder. “Go, baby! Run!” 

Percy hated the idea of splitting up, but he listened as he watched the Minotaur start to charge up the hill, running as fast as he could in the opposite direction of his māmā. 

The bull-man began to chase after him so Percy stopped, his pulse racing. The beast’s eyes glinted with hate and Percy almost gagged at its scent. He had to fight against every instinct to stay still but when Percy did exactly what his māmā said, it worked perfectly. The Minotaur ran right past him. It bellowed with rage when it realized what happened before turning to start running again - but at Sally this time, not Percy. 

Sally had stopped, unable to carry Grover any further. She’d laid him back on the ground and was slowly backing away from the Minotaur, terror clear on her face. 

“Percy, you need to run!” she yelled. “Get to the farmhouse!” 

Percy wanted to listen, but it was nearly half a mile away, he would never get there before the monster got to his māmā. Percy broke into a run towards them but before he could get to them, the Minotaur grabbed a stumbling Sally by the neck and lifted her into the air. 

Sally scratched at its giant hand as she made eye contact with Percy, just barely managing to choke out, “Go.” before dissolving into a bright, golden light and vanishing. 

Percy felt his heart stop - almost falling to his knees at the sight - but when the Minotaur turned its attention to Grover, his despair shifted. 

Exhaustion and pain faded away as rage took their place. Percy would not let the monster kill his best friend like it had his mom. He felt a kind of pressure start to build inside him as he yelled out, “Hey, dumbass! Ground beef!” 

The Minotaur shook its fists as it turned to him, letting out another bellow. The Minotaur charged towards him, but before it reached him, Percy jumped and somehow managed to land on its back as it ran past him. He crawled up its huge, broad back but when he reached its shoulders and grabbed onto his horn, he began to panic. 

There was rain in his eyes, he was breathing in the smell of rotten meat, and he didn’t have a weapon this time, what was he going to do? 

As he was panicking, the Minotaur began trying to shake him loose and it was like the pressure inside him burst. Suddenly, the rain around them solidified and thousands of tiny dagger-sharp raindrops pierced the Minotaur’s flesh. The beast roared in pain as Percy, somehow unharmed, yanked hard on one of its horns. 

He clenched his jaw and pulled as hard as he could. 

It cracked and Percy allowed himself to fall off the monster, landing on his feet, the horn firm in his hands. As the Minotaur began to collapse, bleeding heavily, Percy stabbed forward, through its neck. The beast let out one last wail as it disintegrated - not the way Sally had moments ago, in a flash of light, but like Ms. Dodds had all those months ago, sand in the wind. 

When it was gone, Percy’s adrenaline disappeared with it. Around him, the rain stopped, and the storm began to dissipate. He almost collapsed, his whole body aching again. Percy wanted to lie down and sob, but Grover was hurt. He had to get him help. 

So he grabbed Grover’s arm and stumbled down the hill to the farmhouse, weeping as he did so, hoarsely calling out for his māmā. 

When he finally reached the porch, he finally allowed himself to fall, staring upwards as two people appeared. One was a very familiar man and the other was a dark-skinned girl with blonde goddess braids around Percy’s age. She gasped at the sight of them and said, “He’s the one! He must be.” 

“Silence, Annabeth,” the man said. “He’s conscious. We need to get them inside.” 

Chapter Text

Percy was used to having weird dreams. However, they weren’t usually full of barnyard animals that were either trying to kill him or begging for food. 

He was in and out of consciousness for three days. The first time he woke up, it was to the girl from earlier hovering over him, an inquisitive look in her bright gray eyes. 

Once she noticed his eyes were open, she asked, “What’s going to happen on the summer solstice?” 

Percy began to mumble, “I don’t kn - ” before falling back into unconsciousness. 

The next time he woke up, a giant blond man covered in eyes was standing over his bed, his arms crossed. The eyes on his elbows blinked. Percy briefly remembered the myth of Argus before he passed back out. 

The final time he woke up, this time for good, it was to a teenager sitting next to him. He was tall, tan, and lean with a classically handsome face framed by golden waves of hair. He was staring intently at what sheet music with a small frown turning down his full lips. When he realized Percy was awake though, his expression quickly shifted into a blinding smile. “Hello!” he said, his voice deep with a musical quality to it. “I’m Lee. It’s good to see you awake, Percy.” 

“How do you know my name?” Percy asked, his voice raspy from disuse. He made a face at the taste of his mouth, it felt like ten years worth of cottonmouth. His teeth hurt. 

Lee laughed. “Oh, Kheiron told me,” he said. “I’m the camp’s main healer, I’ve been taking care of you since  got you off death’s door. It’s really nice to finally be able to talk to you.” 

“Kheiron?” Percy asked. 

Lee grabbed a glass of a drink that appeared to be the texture of honey, though instead of a dark amber it was such a bright shade of gold it seemed to almost glow, and handed it to Percy. “Our activities director. You’ve definitely met him but I don’t know what pseudonym he gave you.” 

Percy took a sip and felt tears well up in his eyes. It tasted like his mom’s homemade blue chocolate chip cookies. He gulped it down quickly causing Lee’s bright blue eyes to widen with panic as his smile dropped. “Whoa, buddy! Don’t drink that too fast!” 

“Why not?” Percy asked when he came up for breath. 

“It’ll heal you but too much in your system could kill you,” Lee said. “That’s néktar, the drink of the gods.” 

Percy’s eyes widened as he set the glass down. “Wait, so it’s all real? The gods, monsters, everything?” 

Lee’s smile faded. “Yeah, it’s all real. Do you know where you are?” 

Percy bit his lower lip. “Not…really?” 

“You’re at Ímitheos Katafýgio. It’s a haven for people like us - ” 

At that moment, Grover burst in, tears in his dark eyes. He had a shoebox held tightly in his hands. “Percy!” he cried. “You’re okay!” 

Percy startled, jerking back, but Lee didn’t react beyond a comforting smile sent Grover’s way. “Hey, Grover,” he said. “Looks like your friend is finally awake.” 

“I was so worried,” Grover sobbed. “I can’t believe you got hurt protecting me.” 

Percy thought back to the fight, trying to think of any moment during it that he’d actually been hit. The only time he’d been hurt at all was when lightning had hit the Camaro. “It’s fine, G-man,” he said. “You know I always have your back.” 

Grover’s answering smile was weak and weepy. Percy belatedly noticed he was wearing both pants and shoes. Percy wanted to convince himself that meant everything had been a dream but with what Lee had been saying added onto the fact that Percy could still clearly see Grover had a goat’s eyes, he knew that would be delusional. 

The Ancient Hellenic myths were all real and Percy needed to accept that. 

Which meant Percy’s māmā was dead. Percy was an orphan. On paper, all he had left was Smelly Gabe and there was no way in hell Percy would be staying with him. He’d rather live on the fucking streets. Maybe Theía Dee would take him in. 

Grover gingerly set the box in Percy’s lap. “I…thought you might want this. So while you were unconscious, I went out to the Hill and found it.” 

When Percy opened the box, he was greeted with a blood-stained horn, jagged at the bottom from being ripped at its root. Percy’s gag reflex took over and he had to quickly shut the box to avoid throwing up at the sight of it. 

“Thanks man,” he said weakly. 

Grover smiled but all Percy could really notice were the dark circles under his eyes and how cracked his lips were. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He looked like he was expecting to be hit. 

“No problem,” he said, before turning to Lee. “How’s he looking? Is he good to go see the camp director?” 

Lee hummed, staring down at Percy, his eyes glowing slightly. “He’ll be a bit sore for a couple hours, but he should be fine.” He set a large hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Take care, kid, and don’t be a stranger.” 

Percy felt his cheeks heat up and he ducked his head. “Okay,” he said, almost shyly. 

Lee winked at him before heading out. Grover looked at Percy for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Can you stand up?” he asked. 

Percy stood up, the muscles in his calves aching. He wobbled a bit before standing firm. “I think I’ll be okay,” he said. “Also, man, what happened - it’s not your fault.” 

“It’s good that you’re feeling better,” Grover said, ignoring the second part of what he said. “C’mon, Mr. D wants to talk to you.” 

Percy furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t push the subject, following his friend. His whole body hurt and he felt fatigued in a way he couldn’t quite describe, as if his energy had started draining out - like a sink full of water that had been plugged up right before it emptied out completely. But he stumbled after Grover, keeping his discomfort to himself. 

This wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever felt, after all. 

He clung to the box holding the Minotaur horn the whole time; he’d almost died getting it, he wasn't letting go of it any time soon. 

They exited out the back door of the farmhouse and onto the wrap-around porch. When they got to the front part of the building, Percy’s jaw dropped. 

The valley they were on went all the way to the ocean, the waves gleaming in the distance. The camp itself was filled with Ancient Greek architecture like an amphitheater, an open pavilion, and a circular arena but everything looked brand new, with white marble columns almost glowing under the sun. There was a sandpit full of gorgeous teenagers and various nature spirits playing volleyball. There was an archery range, canoes in the lake, and a climbing wall that was covered in lava and randomly shook, like an earthquake. Everyone was wearing matching orange shirts and seemed to range in age from ten years old to nineteen. 

At the end of the porch, two adults sat at a table together, accompanied by the girl from earlier and a tall teenage boy with curly black hair, leaning against the railings together. 

The person facing Percy seemed to be flickering between two appearances. One moment they’d be a short, overweight man with a thick beard and a flushed face, the next moment an androgynous youth with thick black hair that fell to their back in loose curls while ram-like horns curled out of their forehead. When they met Percy’s gaze, their eyes gleamed a deep red-purple and a lazy, mocking smile twisted onto their full lips. Their aura pressed heavily into the cracks of Percy’s psyche, reminding him that it wouldn’t take much to shatter the walls around himself that he’d so carefully created. 

While staring at them, the name Diwonuso floated across his mind. Some deep part of him urged that it’d be unwise to say it aloud though, so Percy kept his mouth shut. 

“That’s Lord D,” Grover said, “the camp director. Be polite. The girl is Annabeth Chase and the guy is Luke Castellan, they’ve been here longer than just about any camper. And you already know Kheiron….” 

He pointed at the final man. Percy’s eyes widened as he recognized the tweed jacket and curly brown hair. “Mr. Brunner?” he exclaimed. 

Percy’s Latin teacher turned, smiling, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Hello Percy,” he said, his voice carrying a strange accent that had been missing at Yancy. “It’s good to see you up and about. Please, join us. Luke and Annabeth don’t wish to play, but you and Grover joining gives us four players for pinochle.” 

Percy sat down next to Mr. Brunner - or, well, everyone was calling him Kheiron so he assumed that was his first name - with Grover sitting down next to D. 

D’s eyes were bloodshot as they stared at Percy. He cringed away from them, if Smelly Gabe had taught him anything, it was to never trust an adult who drank heavily. 

“Luke, would you go make sure Percy has a space in Cabin Eleven prepared for him? Annabeth, you can join him.” 

Luke looked at Percy, who noticed the jagged scar crawling down the right side of his face, from right above his eyebrow to the bottom of his jaw. He smiled, his dark eyes warm and his expression reassuring. “Yeah, of course,” he said. “Good to meet you, Percy. I’m the counselor for Cabin Eleven, so we’ll be seeing plenty of each other later. Welcome to Camp Hemitheos.” 

Annabeth’s stormy eyes tracked up and down Percy before she said, “You drool in your sleep.” She stuck her tongue out and ran off, her braids flying behind her. Luke exasperatedly followed after her. 

D rolled their eyes. “Children,” they drawled. “So dramatic.” 

“So,” Percy said, “you work here, Mr. Brunner?” 

Mr. Brunner laughed. “That’s actually a pseudonym, I’m afraid,” he said. “My name is actually Kheiron.” 

“Like the teacher of heroes?” Percy asked. 

“Exactly correct,” Kheiron said, smiling. “Good to see my lessons stuck with you.” 

Percy shrugged. “My…my māmā and theía also told me a lot of the old stories,” he said, fighting back tears. 

“That explains why you were always ready to answer my questions,” Kheiron said, nodding. 

“Yes, yes, very interesting,” D said. “Now can we please get on to playing the game? I assume you know how to play, as all civilized young men should.” 

Percy looked at the card game in front of them, before shaking his head. “Uh, no,” he said. “I’m sorry, sir.” 

D rolled their eyes but didn’t respond. 

He bit his lower lip. “Does Lord D stand for something?” 

D arched an eyebrow. “Names have power,” they said, echoing Percy’s māmā. “You don’t just go around asking for them.” 

“Um…okay,” Percy said. “Sorry.” 

“I’m pleased you’re doing well,” Kheiron interjected. “It’s not often I do house calls, it would’ve been a shame if you’d died.” 

Percy wrinkled his nose at how dismissive that sounded. “House calls?” he asked. 

“Ah, my time at Yancy Academy. We have satyroi at most schools, of course, but they don’t often ask me to come and evaluate potential demigods. But Grover alerted me once he met you. He could sense you were special, so I came upstate. I convinced your first Latin teacher to take a leave of absence.” 

Percy suddenly remembered his Latin teacher at the beginning of the year, a brash man who’d suddenly disappeared after the first week. 

“You came to Yancy just to teach me?” he asked, taken aback. 

Kheiron nodded. “Honestly, I was unsure of you at first,” he began. “We contacted your mother, let her know what was happening, but you simply weren’t ready. Nevertheless, you did make it here alive, which is always the first test.” 

Percy’s jaw clenched, looking away. 

“Grover,” D began, rolling their eyes, “are you or are you not playing?” 

Grover jumped. “Of - of course, my Lord!” he said. 

Percy frowned. “Can someone please tell me what this place actually is?” he asked. “Lee started to tell me but didn’t have the chance, all he said was that this is a ‘haven for people like us’ but I don’t know what he meant!” 

Kheiron smiled sympathetically. “What did your mother tell you?” he asked. 

If someone asks, just tell them I told you about your métēr. Don’t mention your patér at all, do you understand? 

Percy swallowed. “She told me that I have another mother, but nothing much about her. Just that she wanted me to come here, but māmā wanted me to stay with her. She said she didn’t want to lose me and that if I came here, she didn’t think she’d ever see me again.” 

“Typical,” D said. “That’s what got her killed.” 

“Hey!” Percy snapped, anger rushing through him like a wave. “Don’t talk about my māmā like that!” 

D’s eyes snapped to Percy’s, causing Percy to freeze under what felt like an immense weight. A purple fire shone in their eyes, a kind of frantic energy that sent visions racing through Percy’s mind. Percy saw grape vines wind around non-believers, choking them to death; drunken warriors wild with bloodlust; manic women ripping people apart limb by limb. Percy knew if he said another word, D - no, this was Dionysos, the god of wine and madness - could plant a disease in Percy’s consciousness that would leave him comatose for the rest of his life, staring unblinkingly at a wall in a padded white room. 

“Would you like to test me, child?” he asked, his voice quiet but reverberating with power. 

“No, my Lord,” Percy whispered. 

“Very good. Then, will you be bidding?” 

Grover explained how to bid to Percy in a hushed tone. Silently, Percy did so. 

Kheiron let out a weary sigh. “There’s too much to explain,” he said. “The orientation film won’t be much help to you, either. The bare bones is this, my boy. The stories I told you in class are all read and the gods are still very alive today.” 

“I - I figured that out, sir,” Percy stuttered out. 

“I assumed you would. This camp is a haven for the children of those gods, children like you.” 

“Me? But I’m just a stupid kid who flunks out of every school I’m put in,” Percy said. 

“Ah, who cares what you do in the mortal world?” D said with a sneer. “Your mother - your goddess mother, not the mortal one - will never care what you do there unless it brings her kleos.” 

“As harsh as he might be, Lord Dionysos is not wrong,” Kheiron said. “Your ADHD and dyslexia are symptoms of being a demigod, even. While they do exist among mortals, in demigods they are there because you are not made to read the Latin alphabet, but Elliniká. Specifically, the Euclidean script. Though many find any form of Elliniká easier than Latin script. However, I will say, you are better at picking up Latin than most. 

“And your ADHD? That is because the divine don’t perceive the world how mortals do. While you don’t think as a god would, your divine heritage makes it so your brain doesn’t work like a typical mortal’s either.” 

Percy blinked, feeling incredibly disoriented. “And the gods are just…still around? I know people still worship them, but it’s so rare nowadays…I grew up with the old stories and my theía always encouraged me to pray to the gods but I never felt like they were listening ....” 

Kheiron sighed again. “They might have been,” he said. “If you ever happened to pray to your theîos métēr, she may have heard you, though with the Ancient Laws in place, there was little she could do when it came to you. But, yes, the gods are still around. I’m sure you’ve already realized who Lord D is and while not a god myself, I am of the same stock.” 

“Wait, are you - are you the actual Kheiron?” Percy asked. Kheiron winked at him. Percy felt his throat tighten as he clenched at his chair. 

“Is it just the Hellenic gods?” Percy suddenly asked. “Or do other mythologies exist as well?” 

Kheiron paled and he looked over at D, whose eyes had narrowed. “That is not something I will speak on,” Kheiron said haltingly. “Onto the main topic, the gods never faded, they were called deathless in the old days for a reason. 

“Imagine it for a moment, Percy. Never dying, never aging. Existing as you are, for millennia. Changing a bit, perhaps, as mortals begin to see you differently, but always being around.” 

Percy swallowed hard. “Whether people believe in you or not.” 

Kheiron nodded. “Science is still real, of course, but it is of the mortal realm and the divine realm may exist concurrently, but it is not the same. The divine are seeped into everything, my boy. Every tree is a dryad, every body of water has a naiad or another spirit. The mountain ranges are as alive as they are steady.” 

Percy felt almost faint, but he nodded along. “Do you…do you know who my theîos métēr is?” he asked. 

Kheiron shook his head. “I do not,” he said. “I am, frankly, shocked that your divine parent was a woman - while sexual dimorphism is a mere suggestion to the gods, it has become less common for them to choose to have children with the same sex. Your mortal mother must have been a very unique woman.” 

Percy’s lips trembled. “She was,” he said softly. 

He inhaled deeply. “Okay,” he said. “I have one more question.” 

“Yes?” Kheiron asked. 

“Why are the Hellenic gods in America of all places?” 

Kheiron smiled. “We’ve traveled much over the millennia,” he said. “From America to Rome, then to Germany, France, Spain even. We spent quite some time in England. The gods are still in our ancestral land, but part of them goes where the worship grows and so much of America echoes their old worship. Look at your symbol, the eagle, the sacred animal of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center. The Rod of Asklepios is the predominant symbol for healthcare. The gods were never forgotten.” 

D interrupted Kheiron’s lecture with another eye roll and a snap of his fingers. A goblet appeared on the table, as if it was woven out of sunlight, and filled itself with red wine. 

Kheiron didn’t pay it much attention but he did warn, “My Lord. Your restrictions.” 

D feigned shock. “My dear!” he yelped. “Old habits do take control of me sometimes. Sorry!” 

Thunder boomed around them, causing both Grover and Percy to jump. 

D snapped again and the goblet transformed into a can of Diet Coke. He unhappily cracked it open and took a deep sip, slumping in his chair. 

“Lord D defied his father a couple of decades ago, took a liking to a wood nymph the King had declared off limits,” Kheiron explained to Percy, who was staring at the can of Diet Coke, his jaw agape. 

D pouted. “Yes,” he said. “My first punishment was prohibition, which was an awful way to pass ten years. The second time - well, she was pretty and Ariadne was off with some mortal - father doomed me to a century here in Hemitheos Hill, taking care of you brats. ‘Maybe the demigods of today will be a good model for you’! Absolute bullshit if you ask me.” 

Percy belatedly realized that D’s father was, of course, Zeus and he exhaled through his nose. “It must be rough,” he said. “Being denied one of your domains.” 

D lit up at that. “You don’t know the half of it!” he said, flickering to his younger form and staying in it for a moment. 

“I am the god of wine, of debauchery! How would father like it if he were denied his, well - ” D trailed off, making a face and shifting back into his older, less attractive form. “Never mind.” 

Kheiron huffed out a light laugh. “It appears the game is over and I have won,” he remarked. 

D’s attention shifted to the cards on the table and he cursed. “Damn you!” he said with pursed lips. “How do you always win?” 

Kheiron shrugged before bracing his hands on the bars of his wheelchair, slowly pushing himself out of it. Percy watched in awe as the lower half of a horse emerged from the wheelchair, leaving behind a metal box on wheels. Kheiron let out a deep breath. “That does feel quite good,” he said. “My fetlocks were beginning to get rather stiff. Now, come on Percy. I shall take you to Cabin Eleven where you can get settled in and meet your cabin mates. We are having s’mores at the campfire tonight and there is plenty of time for more lessons at a later date.” 

Chapter Text

Percy’s tour of camp with Kheiron was deeply uncomfortable. First of all, he had tried to convince himself that Kheiron wasn’t actually just a horse but he couldn’t find it in himself to trust the kentaur’s back half the way he trusted his front. 

Second, as they walked past the volleyball pit, everyone stared at him. He was pretty sure he even heard someone whisper, “That’s him.” 

Most of the campers were older than Percy, and their satyroi friends were larger than Grover. Everyone was wearing matching orange shirts inscribed with ÍMITHEOS KATAFÝGIO. They all stared at Percy as if they expected him to do a backflip. 

Percy swallowed hard before looking away, staring up at the farmhouse he had just left. He hadn’t realized how large it was, but it was four stories tall and was painted light blue with a white trim. The curtain in the attic window shifted, revealing a shadow. Percy felt like he was being watched. 

The shadow disappeared and the feeling dissipated. 

“What’s up there?” Percy asked. 

Kheiron looked where Percy pointed and his jaw tensed. “Just the attic,” he said. 

“Does somebody live there?” 

“Not one living thing,” Kheiron said with finality. 

Percy could tell Kheiron wasn’t lying to him; but he knew what he had seen and he didn’t like how Kheiron curbed his answers. 

“Come on, lad, let’s move on. There’s plenty to see,” Kheiron urged. 

They walked past the strawberry fields, where campers were harvesting the plump red berries while a satyr played a tune on a pipe reed. “That’s how we pay for our expenses,” Kheiron said, nodding at the fields. “We get a nice crop yearly, especially with the help of the children of agrarian gods, plus the nature spirits and Lord D’s own talents. Fruit-bearing plants adore him and sprout much easier when he’s around - grapes are his specialty, but with his restrictions, we’ve been keeping to strawberries.” 

Percy stared at the satyr, thinking about Grover being left alone with D, who hadn’t looked exactly pleased with him - not that he’d necessarily looked displeased either, he mostly seemed just annoyed with everything. 

“Is Grover in trouble?” Percy asked. 

Kheiron let out a long exhale through his nose, a shockingly equine noise. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Lord D shares a close kinship with the satyroi due to having been close with their patron in the ancient days and as such tends to be rather forgiving with them. Especially Grover, who he’s known since birth. But, alas, this isn’t Grover’s first time…struggling to get a demigod to safety. And he’s always had such big dreams, dreams we can’t help but worry will get him killed. 

“And while Lord D has been known to be…understanding when it comes to Grover and satyroi as a whole, the same cannot be said to be true of the Council of Elders, who are the ones to decide whether Grover did a good enough job as a Fýlax.” 

Percy had grown up speaking Elliniká as fluently as he spoke English and ‘Ōlelo Hawai’i, yet it still baffled him that despite never having heard that word before, he knew exactly what it meant. “But Grover did a great job protecting me!” Percy argued. “I got here alive, didn’t I?” 

But your māmā didn’t, a nasty voice in his head whispered. She died because you were too busy trying to protect Grover. 

No, Percy wouldn’t let himself think like that! It wasn’t Grover’s fault his māmā got hurt. 

“I would agree,” Kheiron said with a faint smile. “And I believe Lord D would as well. But the Council of Elders might not.” 

“That’s not fair,” Percy insisted. 

Kheiron nodded. “The world rarely is,” he responded. Percy wrinkled his nose. 

“Will he get a second chance, though?” Percy asked. 

Kheiron grimaced. “Unfortunately this is his second chance,” he said. “The first time…well, I won’t go into it. But he’s so small for his age and he’s already struggled so much…it might be time for him to seek out a more appropriate career path.” 

“What do you mean, he’s small for his age?” Percy asked. 

“Satyroi age at half the rate of your average mortal,” Kheiron said. “Grover is twenty-eight, but can still pass as a twelve year old. He’s been in middle school for six years now.” 

Percy made a disgusted face. “That sounds like hell,” he said. 

“Quite,” Kheiron agreed. “Anyways, we really should move on.” 

As they started walking again, Percy decided to prod a bit more. “Hey Kheiron…if the gods and monsters are real…does that mean the Underworld is too?” 

Kheiron’s expression darkened. 

“Yes, child,” he began, clearly choosing his words carefully. “There is a place for spirits to dwell after death. But I wouldn’t focus on that, until we know more.” 

“What do you mean, until we know more?” Percy asked. 

“Come, Percy. It is time I show you the woods.” 

Percy scowled at the obvious misdirect but decided to quit pushing. 

Kheiron showed him the woods, explaining that they were kept stocked but not with what. During that, he mentioned that they’d have to get Percy some armor, a weapon, and a shield, mentioning an armory that the camp had. 

He also showed Percy the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Kheiron appeared to hold a grudge against), the javelin range, the amphitheater, the arena where training was held, and the pavilion where they ate. Strangely, it had no walls or roof. 

“What if it rains?” Percy asked. 

Kheiron chuckled. “Well, we have to eat, don’t we?” 

Percy huffed at yet another non-answer. 

Finally, Percy was shown the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled at the edge of the woods by the lake, in a U-shape. There were two cabins at the base, surrounded by five on either side. They were the strangest amalgamation of buildings Percy had ever seen. The only common factor they all shared were large brass numbers on the top of the doors. 

Cabins One and Two were the largest cabins at the base; matching his-and-hers temples, with Cabin One having Corinthian columns that flashed with bronze lightning and bulls on the sides, while Cabin Two had more elegant Ionic columns engraved with copper peacocks and pomegranates. 

The other cabins all looked vastly different, from the picturesque Cabin Ten with soft lavender walls covered in a mural of dolphins and anemone, to the grapevine-laced cottage that was Cabin Twelve, panthers etched into the deck. Only Cabins Seven and Eight appeared to have a matching theme, one gleaming a blinding gold in the sunlight, with wolves and laurel trees decorating it, while the other was a more muted silver decorated with cypress trees and deer. 

But while they were all fascinating to look at, Cabin Three seemed to draw Percy to it. It wasn’t as overtly majestic as the first two, formed from rough gray stone with coral and seashells studding out, looking like it came directly from the ocean’s floor. The columns were decorated in sea green tridents and horses. Percy took a deep breath and turned his attention away from it. 

They all faced a huge commons area, filled with marble statues, a huge garden, and some basketball hoops. In the center of the field was a giant stone-lined fire pit. A small girl sat at its edge, tending the flames. She turned to Percy and put a finger to her lips, winking. 

Percy resolved to speak to her later. 

He turned to Kheiron. “So the cabins represent each of the members of the Olympian council?” he asked. 

Kheiron grinned. “Exactly,” he said. “I’m glad my lessons stuck with you.” 

Percy hummed. He knew so much about Greek mythology partially from Kheiron’s lessons, but also from the stories his māmā and theía had told him while he was growing up. “How do you decide who goes to what cabin?” he asked. 

“We don’t,” Kheiron said. “Each cabin holds the children of that cabin’s god.” 

Percy wrinkled his nose. “But where do we go when you don’t know who our parents are? And what about the kids of gods who aren’t on the Olympian council? Are they just not welcome in camp?” 

Kheiron closed his eyes briefly. “Excellent questions, my boy,” he said. “If you are unclaimed or a child of a minor god, the Hermes cabin hosts you, as he is the patron of travelers.” 

Percy’s lips twisted downwards. “But that’s bullshit! Children of non-Olympians deserve their own cabins, plus how long does it take to be claimed?” 

Kheiron reached down and ruffled Percy’s hair, causing Percy to cringe away. “You are a kind soul,” he said. “Most would care not of the fates of others. But now is not the time to speak of this, for now I will take you to Cabin Eleven so you can settle in.” 

Percy resisted the urge to stomp his foot, moodily following after the kentaur. 

When they reached Cabin Eleven, Percy was distraught at its state. It was dilapidated, with peeling paint on the walls and worn wooden structures. A caduceus was painted on the door. Inside the cabin, there were easily dozens of children, far outnumbering any of the other cabins - especially Cabins One, Two, Three, and Eight, which had all been empty. Kheiron gestured for Percy to enter, far too tall himself to fit through the door. 

“Good luck, my boy,” he said before trotting off. 

When Percy walked through the door, he barely managed to avoid tripping over the threshold and quickly rushed to the only empty spot in the cabin, a small space on the ground that appeared to have been reserved for him. He was immediately surrounded by five campers once he reached the spot; the guy from earlier, who had been called Luke, with three other boys and a girl. Percy shrunk in on himself. 

“Hey Percy,” Luke said with a lighthearted grin. “Good to finally get the chance to talk to you.” His expression grew somber. “Though I heard what happened to you when you arrived - I’m so sorry.” 

Percy swallowed at the reminder. “Thanks,” he choked out. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself and some of my friends,” Luke said. “Meet Chris, Ethan, Alabaster, and Ash. Chris and Ethan are unclaimed, Al is a son of Hekate, Ash is a daughter of Morpheus, and I’m a son of Hermes and the counselor of this cabin. If you need anything, feel free to ask any of us, okay?” 

The four teens accompanying Luke all nodded at Percy. The three boys seemed to be around Percy’s age; Chris was a tall Latine boy with curly black hair and mischievous dark brown eyes, Ethan was a handsome Japanese boy with sharp black eyes and a deep frown, and Alabaster was an emo white boy with straight brown hair and piercing green eyes. Ash seemed to be one of the oldest of the group, a tall albino girl with curly white hair and sharp red eyes. She sent a smirk Percy’s way. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Chris said, grinning crookedly. “You made a real scene when you showed up.” 

Alabaster snorted, his lips twitching upwards. “That’s one way of putting it.” 

“What they mean,” Ash interjected, “is that we’re excited to get to know you. I’m sure you’ll fit in just perfectly.” 

Ethan’s mouth curved into a sharp smile. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be one of us by the end of the summer.” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “You guys are being weird and not at all proving my point. Be nice, Percy seems to be a good guy.” 

Percy sent him a quivering smile. The older teen seemed like a genuinely nice guy and while his friends were weird, they weren’t setting off his bully senses. “It’d be cool to get to know you guys,” he said, his voice quiet. He wasn’t good at making friends, he was sure once they spent some time with him they’d see him for the weirdo he was and abandon him like everyone else, other than Grover. 

Ash’s smile grew warmer. “Absolutely,” she said. 

Chris threw his arm around Percy’s shoulders, causing his cheeks to heat up. “Well, now that we’re best friends, how about I give you a fun little tour of camp?” he offered. “I know Kheiron already gave you a brief one, but I can show you all the best hidden spots.” 

Percy bit his lower lip before nodding. “Uh, sure,” he said. 

“Awesome!” Chris cheered. “C’mon, these losers have stuff they need to do.” 

Ethan rolled his eyes. “No,” he said. “You just want to hog the new guy.” 

Chris made a face at him. “Man, shut the hell up,” he said. 

Luke chuckled. “Go on, you two.” He reached over and messed up Alabaster’s hair; Alabaster scowled at him as he attempted to fix it. “I actually do have things for these three to do, so you’re free to go without us bothering you.” 

Chris threw a pair of finger guns his way before dragging Percy off. “Dude, I’m excited to show you the place. Kheiron can be such a bore, I’m a way more fun tour guide,” he said as they left the cabin. 

As they were walking past Cabin Five, a muscular girl with wavy, dark red hair and fierce black eyes marched up to them, flanked by two equally muscular teens. “Hey, extra, I see you’re showing the fresh meat around,” she growled. 

Chris made a face at her. “Báll eis kórakas, Clarisse,” he spit. 

“Like I care what you have to say to me, when your divine parent doesn’t even care enough to claim you,” Clarisse said, her expression twisted into a cruel smile. Her lackeys laughed. 

Percy scowled at her. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked. 

Chris groaned. “This is Clarisse La Rue,” he said. “Behind her are her sisters, Brianna Matthews and Alessia Rogers. They’re all children of Ares.”

“The war god?” Percy asked. 

“Yeah, got a problem with that, punk?” Clarisse asked, puffing up her chest. 

Percy glared at her. “Nah, but it does explain the smell.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that comment, newbie,” Clarisse snarled, her nostrils flaring. 

Brianna and Alessia both rushed forward, each grabbing one of Percy’s arms, while Clarisse grabbed the back of his neck. Percy immediately started struggling, trying and failing to force down his instinctual panic at having people larger than him touch him, so he could escape. Unfortunately, Clarisse and her sisters were as strong as they looked. 

They dragged him to the bathrooms as Chris chased after them, ineffectually trying to pull them off Percy. “We have an initiation ritual for newbies,” Clarisse growled into Percy’s ear as they forced him into the building. 

Percy was disgusted by the bathrooms. You’d think the gods would be able to afford something classier but they were like the bathrooms in any of the camps in the movies Percy had watched growing up; absolutely disgusting. 

He had one single overwhelming thought as he was forced towards one of the toilets. My head is not going in there. 

Something welled up in his guts and all of a sudden the plumbing started rumbling, before the toilets and sinks and showers around him blew up, all shooting out water that slapped the children of Ares away from him, flushing them all out of the bathroom. 

Chris wasn’t spared either though he wasn’t sent out of the room, leaving him standing in the doorway, soaking wet with wide eyes and a dropped jaw as he stared at Percy. 

Percy stood up, his legs shaking. Somehow, he was the only thing left dry in the entire building, a circle of the floor around him equally bone-dry. 

“How?” Chris asked. 

“I - I don’t know,” Percy answered. 

Clarisse surged up from where she’d been lying on the ground, an expression of rage on her face. “You’re fucking dead, shithead!” she roared. It took both of her sisters holding her back to stop her from lunging at him. 

Percy sneered at her. “You wanna gargle toilet water again, asshole?” he asked. “Shut your fucking mouth.” 

Brianna and Alessia dragged Clarisse away, all three of them glaring daggers at him. 

“Never mind my tour,” Chris said faintly. “Let’s, uh, get you back to the cabin.” 

Chapter Text

It seemed that everyone immediately knew what happened in the bathrooms. 

On the way back to Cabin Eleven, everyone was staring even more than before and several people pointed at Percy before whispering something to the person next to them. Chris was grimacing as they hurried back to Cabin Eleven. 

“I’m sorry about the toilets,” Percy said, ducking his head. “I…I don’t know how that happened.” 

Chris shrugged. “It’s chill, man. That’s not nearly the first time someone’s powers have acted up around here. You should see cabin four when they get angry. Travis is still terrified of Katie.” 

“So this is real, huh?” Percy muttered, staring at the lake. A group of women were sitting at the bottom of it; one caught his eyes and waved eagerly, grinning brightly at him. Percy blushed even as he noticed that her teeth were jagged like a shark’s. 

Chris saw where he was staring and chuckled. “Those are naiades,” he said. “More specifically, I’m pretty sure they’re called limnades? They’re nature spirits whose life force is connected to lakes. They can be pretty flirty.” 

Percy huffed out a deep breath. “I just…this is all so much,” he said. “A couple of days ago I thought I was insane and now I’m being told my métēr is a goddess and my best friend is a satyr.” 

Chris set a hand on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically at him. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Everyone here has dealt with what you’re dealing with right now and it’s never easy for any of us. But, hey, that means you’re among people who understand almost exactly what you’re going through. And we’ve got your back, man.” 

Percy’s blush deepened. “Thanks,” he said. 

“No problem, really. Now let’s get you settled into the Cabin before dinner time, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Back at Cabin Eleven, everybody was goofing around. There were a lot - one might say too many - of people all around, filling up all of the bunk beds and hammocks and every available spot on the ground. About a third of them had similar features: sharp noses, crooked smiles, and upturned eyebrows. The rest couldn’t look less alike. Chris led Percy back to his spot on the ground, where they were met by Luke. 

“Hey kid,” Luke said. “Heard you had a bit of an incident.” 

Percy flinched, looking determinedly at the ground. “I don’t like bullies,” he gritted out. 

“Hey, I don’t blame you. The Ares cabin can be hard to deal with when they’re on their best behavior and at their worst, they’re absolute assholes,” Luke responded with a lighthearted shrug. 

“Anyways, I stole you a sleeping bag and some toiletries from the camp store, plus your very own camp shirt.” 

Percy laughed. “Thanks.” 

Luke smiled back at him. “No prob.” 

The three of them all sat down, their backs against the wall. “So, how are you dealing with all this?” Luke asked. 

Percy groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “My māmā and theía raised me to believe in the theoi and this is proof that they were right, but I never expected that I’d be the son of a goddess.” 

Luke snorted, a bitter sound. “Hey, you’re lucky you at least believed in them. Most of us thought they were just stories before we found out and, let me tell you, realizing they’re definitely not just stories does not make any of this easier.” 

Percy looked up, before glancing over at Chris, who had a dark expression on his face. “So…you don’t know who your godly parent is?” 

Chris scowled fiercely. “Nah,” he said. “I’ve been here for three fucking years, since I was ten, and no one ever bothered to claim me.” 

Luke nudged Chris’s knee. “We’re pretty sure he’s one of my brothers,” he said. “He’s sneaky as all hell, can pick any lock, and he just acts like a son of Mêkhaniôtês, you know?” 

Chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Which makes it so much worse,” he said. “Like, fuck, I’m living in his shitty cabin and he can’t bother to claim me? What a dick.” 

Percy frowned. “I mentioned this to Kheiron, but it’s kind of messed up the unclaimed are in this cabin anyways. Why don’t the non-Olympians have cabins and why isn’t there a cabin just for unclaimed kids? Like doesn’t this just prove they don’t care about us?” 

Luke chuckled dryly, an utterly humorless sound. “Got it in one, kid,” he said. “Not that anyone here wants to admit that. Look, having a god for a parent isn’t any different from any other deadbeat parent, other than the consequences for pissing them off are much higher.” 

Percy closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall and fighting back tears. “Māmā always had such good things to say about my métēr,” he said. “I think she really loved her. But everything about this sucks.” 

Luke draped an arm around Percy’s shoulders. “Not everything,” he said. “Now you have a camp full of people who understand you. Plus now you can soak your bullies in toilet water.” 

Percy sputtered as Chris broke into hysterical laughter before groaning, tugging on his soaked shirt. “Speaking of getting soaked in toilet water,” Chris said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go fuckin’ change. See you around, Perce.” 

He got up and walked away, leaving Percy and Luke alone. “So,” Percy began. “Hermes is your dad?” 

Luke grimaced, the expression contorting his scar. “Yeah. The god of messengers, travelers, merchants, and thieves. Anything to do with the roads. He’s hosting you and every other unclaimed kid, plus the children of the minor gods, because of xenía; he doesn’t turn anyone away, he’s not exactly picky in who he sponsors.” 

Percy wasn’t sure whether he considered what Luke said to be a compliment or insult. He didn’t think Luke didn’t mean to imply that Percy was a nobody. 

“You ever meet him?” 

Luke looked up at the roof, frowning. “Once.” His tone didn’t offer room for follow up questions. Percy couldn’t help but wonder if that meeting had anything to do with his scar. 

He turned his head and smiled weakly. “Don’t worry about it, Percy. The campers here are mostly good people. We’re an extended family, you know? We take care of each other.” 

Percy bit at his lips. “Okay,” he said. 

He liked Luke, he decided. It was nice to have an older guy in his life who seemed to actually understand him and care how he was feeling; Kheiron was nice but something about him always seemed a bit stand-offish, Luke was way more approachable. 

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” 

Luke arched an eyebrow. “Go for it,” he said. 

“Why are some of the Cabins empty?” 

Luke hummed, returning his attention to the ceiling. “Cabins Two and Eight are simple enough. They’re basically temples to Anassa and Agrotera. When the Hunt’s around, they stay in Eight, but they’re mostly just monuments so none of the Olympians feel neglected. Cabins One and Three are a little more complicated. Basileus and Gaiêochos made an Oath with their brother to never have any more children with mortals and ever since those cabins have stayed empty.” 

Percy’s brows furrowed. “But…why?” he asked. 

“Children of those three…they’re powerful, Percy. Too powerful. The sky, the seas, and the underworld are untameable and eternal and their children, well, they can do more than demigods are usually capable of.” Luke sat up and turned his body to fully face Percy. 

“Though, to be honest, that’s true of any of the more primal gods, those whose domains exist without mortals. Those of us who are children of gods with more…cerebral domains are still more than mortal but we’re not the kind to easily end the world. Other than the standard abilities, all my dad gave me was that it’s a little easier for me to sneak around and I’m a bit faster than even other demigods. But, for example, children of Hôrêphoros? They can control nature. You never want to make a Cabin Four camper angry, Percy. They have their mother’s fury.” 

Percy blinked. “But then…why just the kings?” he asked. “Why not their sister too?” 

Luke huffed out a laugh. “I have no clue,” he admitted. “Her and Aphrogeneia have insanely powerful children and yet they weren’t forced into the oath. Everyone tends to underestimate them, I guess.” 

Percy nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you call them by their most known names?” he asked. “My māmā and Mr. D both said names have power, but nobody has explained what that means.” 

Luke grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Good catch, kid. If you say an immortal’s name, it can draw their attention to you. For monsters, this means they might find you easier but for gods…they might start listening to what you’re saying. Epithets are useful, because they keep their eyes and ears away from you unless you’ve done something to catch their attention.” 

“Oh, that makes sense,” Percy said. “Thanks for being so helpful in explaining all this to me, man. I’ve been so confused and no one is answering my questions.” 

Luke lightly hit Percy’s upper arm. “No problem, man,” he said. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

A horn blew in the distance. Luke jumped up off the ground. “It’s dinner time,” he said. “Eleven, fall in!” 

The whole cabin, about thirty kids, all filed out into the commons yard. They lined up in order of seniority, leaving Percy last. As one, they made their way up the hill to the pavilion where they’d be eating, joined by satyroi and nymphai that emerged from the woods. 

The pavilion was lined with torches that gleamed against the marble columns. A central fire burned in a huge bronze brazier. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloths trimmed in gold and purple. Kheiron and Mr. D sat at the final table with three campers and the satyroi. 

Cabin Eleven settled into the second to last table, barely managing to all squeeze onto the seat. Percy found himself in the middle of the group Luke had introduced him to, directly between Luke and Chris, right across from Ash. Percy noticed that the campers at either end of the table were almost falling out of their seats. 

Percy looked around the pavilion with interest. It was interesting how much more full some Cabins were then others. 

Other than Cabin Eleven, it looked like Cabins Five, Six, and Seven were the most populated. Cabin Five’s table was full of burly kids all rough-housing together, pushing at each other and bellowing with laughter. Cabin Six was full of blonds with brilliant gray eyes, though they definitely didn’t all look alike; they seemed to be holding lively debates. Cabin Seven was also full of blonds, though their hair was more of a pure gold then the honey-blond the kids at Cabin Six had. They all seemed to be joking around with each other, having loud conversations. 

The Cabin with the least amount of children appeared to be, interestingly, Cabin Twelve. D only had a set of plump blond twins and an older Indian girl, all three sitting close together and quietly talking. 

Kheiron pounded a hoof on the marble floor once everyone was settled in, the sound echoing around them. He raised a glass. “To the gods!” 

“To the gods!” Everyone cheered, holding their glasses up. 

Nymphai flooded forward with platters full of food: fresh bread, cheese, various fruits, olive oil, and barbecue. Luke nodded at Percy’s cup and said, “Tell it what you want to drink - anything nonalcoholic is free game.” 

Percy arched an eyebrow. “Cherry Coke,” he said. The goblet immediately filled with the caramel-brown liquid. 

Percy’s eyes widened and he said, “Blue Cherry Coke.” 

The drink immediately became a startling shade of cobalt. When Percy raised it to his lips, it tasted almost exactly right. 

Percy silently toasted the drink to his mother. He refused to think of her as dead any longer; he could save her, he would save her. 

Chris passed Percy some beautifully smoked brisket. Percy began gleefully filling his plate and was about to dig in when he noticed everyone standing up. 

“Oh!” Percy said, smiling. “Everyone sacrifices to the theoi here?” 

Ethan’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah,” he said. “We know the gods exist and we know they want our appreciation so…it’s how we start every meal. You can dedicate it to a specific god if you want but it’s fine if you don’t.” 

Percy nodded as he joined the queue for the brazier. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I was raised Hellenic by my māmā and theía, though we hid it from my stepfather, who thought we were weird for our traditions. I’ve been sacrificing part of every meal since I was a kid. Well, except for at school, where being different got you bullied.” 

Alabaster sneered. “I understand that, trust me,” he said. 

When it was Percy’s turn at the brazier, he pushed the largest slice of his brisket into the fire, inhaling the scent of the sacrifice. To Hestia, protector of the sacrificial flame. To Hera, please bless me in my goal to save my māmā. To Hades and Persephone, please protect my māmā while I can’t get to her, he prayed. And to Hermes and Dionysos, as thanks for hosting me. 

Afterwards, he sat back down. Ash met his eyes and she grinned. “I heard you got into a fight with the war kids,” she said. 

Percy’s cheeks heated up. “It’s not my fault,” he protested sullenly. “I don’t like bullies.” 

Ash laughed, holding her hands up. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “Cabin Five is hard to deal with at the best of times. If anything, I applaud you.” 

Chris elbowed Percy, laughing. “You definitely showed them,” he said. 

For the rest of dinner, Percy ate happily, basking in the fact that it appeared he’d finally managed to make some friends. That this place might actually become a home to him. 

If only he knew how quickly this place would become as dangerous as the outside world. 

Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night and everyone around him was asleep as Percy stared blankly up at the ceiling. 

He couldn’t sleep, every time he tried to close his eyes, all he saw was the image of his māmā disappearing in a shower of gold imprinted on the back of his eyelids. 

Percy inhaled shakily before sitting up. No one noticed as he got out of bed and snuck out the door of the cabin. 

Camp at night was unbelievable and gorgeous. All the stars in the night sky were visible, something Percy had never seen before. Meanwhile, Apollon’s cabin had faded to a muted gold, while Artemis’s cabin gleamed a bright silver in the moonlight. 

The young girl from earlier was still sitting at the fire-pit, prodding the embers with a slight smile on her face. Percy walked forward, almost seeming to be in daze, his brilliant green eyes unfocused. 

The girl looked up and her smile grew. She was petite with a dark brown kalyptra draped over orange-red curls that flowed down her back. She had light brown skin and strong features; her hands long and calloused. Her warm crimson eyes drew him in. 

As Percy stared at her, the name Aesa came to mind. 

“Aspazomai Perseus,” she said, the words heavily accented. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Do I…know you?” Percy asked. 

The girl hummed. “Maybe,” she said. “What is my name?” 

Percy bit his lower lip. “Aesa?” he said, hesitantly. 

The girl glowed. Her curls started letting off small sparks as some kind of power seemed to well within her. “Yes, you know me. And it has been such a long time since someone called me that,” she sighed. 

“Are you…a goddess?” Percy asked. 

Aesa beamed at him. “Something like that,” she said. “A more correct description would be an ember, but you can call me a goddess.” 

She patted the rock next to her. “Sit with me, Perseus,” she said. 

Percy obeyed without question. Aesa stared at him like he was a puzzle she was trying to solve. “Your soul is so old,” she said, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. 

Percy’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

Aesa hummed. “I cannot explain,” she said, turning her attention back to the fire as she set the stick she had been tending it with down next to her. “You must learn most answers on your own. I am simply here to guide you in seeking those answers out.” 

Percy frowned, wrapping his arms around himself. “What is going on?” he asked. “Why would you guide me?” 

“You have been calling out for me,” Aesa said gently. “Your love for your home is so beautiful, I had no choice but to heed your pleas.” 

“My home?” Percy asked. 

Aesa’s eyes closed. “Your mother, to agóri mou. One’s home is often a physical place but sometimes instead it is the people they love. And the love you hold for your mother is resplendent.” When she opened her eyes, they flickered like the flames they sat beside. 

Percy felt tears well up in his eyes. “My māmā is all I have,” he said. “Of course I love her.” 

“You are a good son, Perseus. Your mother has always loved you more than life itself and you honor her by returning those feelings.” 

Percy let his head hang, crying silently as he stared down at his lap. 

Aesa rested a hand on his shoulder. “You will understand all this one day, I promise.” The skin under her hand felt unnaturally, but painlessly, warm for a moment before she removed her hand, setting it back in her lap. 

“I must take my leave of absence now. You and your companions need not worry about the harpyiai, they will not bother you while you are under my protection,” Aesa said before vanishing as Percy heard the sound of footsteps and turned his head to see the source. 

Approaching him were two girls around Percy’s age; as they got close to the fire, Percy could see their perplexed expressions. The shorter girl was a lightly tanned brunette with a round, freckled face, clear, grass-green eyes, and a hawkish nose. Walking beside her was a beautiful Japanese girl with thick black hair that fell to her waist and fae-like features. 

“Hey, aren’t you the new kid?” the brunette asked. “Percy Jackson?” 

“Yeah, I am. Who are you?” 

“I’m Katie Gardiner, daughter of Demeter, and this is Drew Tanaka, daughter of Aphrodite. What are you doing out so late?” 

Percy furrowed his brows. “I needed some time to myself,” he said. “Cabin Eleven gets really crowded.” 

Katie sat down next to Percy and, after a moment, Drew joined them, rolling her eyes. “It’s not safe out here at night - ” Katie began. 

“Then why are you guys out here?” Percy asked. 

Katie’s lips twitched downwards. “Drew and I have been here for a lot longer than you,” she said. “We can handle ourselves.” 

Percy crossed his arms over his chest. “I can take care of myself,” he said. 

Katie’s expression softened. “I’m sure you can,” she said softly. “But you’re new to this world and I don’t think you have a weapon yet. And the harpyiai will not be kind just because of that.” 

Percy thought back to the transforming pen that kept appearing up in his pants’ pockets but chose to keep his mouth shut about that. 

“Why do I have to worry about the harpyiai?” Percy asked. “I thought this place was safe from monsters.” 

“Only the ones that oppose the gods,” Drew cut in. “The harpyiai are loyal servants to the King and follow his and his children’s will.” 

“But if they follow him and his children, why would they hurt us? Wouldn’t the gods want us to be protected?” Percy asked. 

Drew rolled her eyes, her fingers dancing on the log she sat on. “You’d think so,” she said. “They won’t kill us, but they will hurt us really badly if they get to us. It’s why it’s mostly fine for older campers to go out at night - we’ve been trained to fight terrors. Plus there’s no consequences for killing them, since they can reform, as long as we don’t, like, kill them all.” 

“You know,” Katie interjected, “this is the kid who killed the bull of Minos without any training. He might be fine.” 

Drew arched an eyebrow. “Without a weapon? Sure.” She set her elbows on her thighs and turned to fully face Percy, her chin held in her palms. “Though I have to ask, what was killing that beast like?” she asked. 

Katie grimaced. “Drew!” she admonished. “Learn some manners! You can’t just ask him that!” 

Percy bit his lower lip. “It was terrifying,” he admitted quietly. “I was sure I was gonna die. And my māmā - ” he cut himself off, staring at the ground. “Well. She’s gone.” 

Katie reached out and grabbed Percy’s hand. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s never easy dealing with this stuff. And I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m here if you need to talk.” 

Percy looked up at her and smiled crookedly, grief still clinging to his expressions. “Thanks,” he said. 

Drew shifted, wrapping her arms around her torso. “I guess I’m sorry for bringing it up,” she said. “I sometimes forget how traumatic this stuff is.” 

Percy shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said.

Drew smiled shyly at him. “Well, hey, if you ever want to hang out with us, I guess you can feel free to. Katie and I come out here at night sometimes to get away from it all. The expectations put on us because of who our moms are, camp drama, personal trauma, all of it. You’re welcome to join us.” 

Percy couldn’t fight the huge smile that broke free at that moment. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll do that.” 

He then let out a huge yawn. “I should probably head back to bed,” he said sheepishly. 

Katie laughed. “Probably. It was nice to meet you!” 

“It was nice to meet you guys too,” Percy said as he headed back to Cabin Eleven. 

He silently slipped inside and snuck over to his sleeping bag. As he went to crawl inside it, Luke rolled over with a groan. His pale blue eyes fluttered open. 

“Hey Perce,” he said. “Everything good?” 

Percy thought back to his conversations with Aesa and then Drew and Katie before grinning. “Yeah, I’m good, man. Thanks.” 

He rested his head on his pillow and promptly passed out. He had no dreams that night. 

Chapter Text

After his incredibly chaotic first day, the rest of the week would’ve felt almost normal if Percy wasn’t being trained by satyroi, nymphai, and a kentaur. 

Percy practiced Ancient Elliniká each morning with Ash. She’d explained that normally he’d be doing so with a child of Athene, but that Luke had asked her to teach him instead so he would have the chance to grow more comfortable with his cabin mates. Percy already had a solid basis in both modern and ancient Elliniká so he found himself actually enjoying the classes. They’d been slowly making their way through The Iliad, which Ash said was a good basis in understanding the new world he had found himself in. 

Cabin Eleven’s schedule also had made it so Percy had been learning a variety of different activities. 

Some went better than others. 

Archery had been a hot mess. Percy had been introduced to Lee’s older sister: Eleni Varos, an older, willowy girl with golden curls that peeked out from under a sky blue kalyptra she kept in an intricate knot. Eleni had kindly shown Percy how to string a bow and the correct hand placements to shoot an arrow. 

She smiled softly as she rested a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Okay, now inhale deeply while you pull the bowstring and exhale when you release it. It’ll be painful but you get used to it.” 

Percy did his best to do exactly as she said, his thin arms trembling as he slowly pulled the bowstring back. He licked his lips and closed his eyes before releasing it. 

When he opened his eyes, he was confused to find the arrow nowhere to be seen; it wasn’t lodged into the target, it wasn’t even lying on the ground near it. Then he had processed that Lee and Eleni were cackling behind him, so he had turned around, appalled to find the arrow somehow tangled in Kheiron’s tail. 

“Holy shi -, I am so sorry,” Percy sputtered. 

Kheiron smiled, his warm eyes alight with amusement. “It’s fine, my boy. Though I do not believe the art of archery lies within your talents.” 

Lee walked up and clapped Percy on the back, causing Percy to flinch slightly. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he said, still laughing. “We’ll find what you’re best at.” 

He elbowed Percy’s shoulder, causing the younger boy to blush. 

The less that was said about Percy’s attempt at blacksmithing, the better (though Charles Beckendorf, an incredibly handsome and burly son of Hephaestus, had been incredibly kind as he banished Percy from the forges). 

Meanwhile, wrestling was simply an excuse for Clarisse to pummel him for a bit before pinning Percy to the training mats and growling threats in his ear. 

Still, Percy had excelled in canoeing and pegasus riding. 

His pegasus riding lesson had been led by Drew’s older sister, a beautiful black girl named Silena Beauregard. She had beamed at him as the lesson began, guiding him to a beautiful dark brown pegasus named Berry who had whinnied excitedly at the sight of him. 

Everything about preparing Berry and riding her (sadly on foot, Silena and Luke both insisting that riding a flying Pegasus should wait until the second lesson at the earliest) came naturally to Percy. The last thing so effortlessly easy for him had been the swimming lessons at the YMCA his māmā had taken him to when he was seven. 

Silena had swooped down next to him, her pegasus smoothly transitioning from flight to a light trot, beaming brightly. “You’re a natural, sweetie!” she cheered. She ran a hand down the strong neck of her gorgeous Palomino pegasus, a feisty mare named Sundrop. “Berry’s our sweetest mare, but she’s being especially good for you today. You must be some kind of pegasi whisperer.” 

Percy felt his cheeks warming, smiling shyly as he ducked his head. “Thanks,” he said, peeking up at her through his thick lashes. 

Silena cooed. “You’re such a little cutie!” she squealed. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all to find out you were my little brother.” 

Percy’s eyes widened. “I am so not a son of the goddess of beauty!” he objected. 

Silena giggled as she shook her head. “You could be,” she insisted. “You got the looks of a son of Epistrophia.” 

“It’s not nice to lie,” Percy said quietly, scowling at the ground. 

“Hey, look at me, Percy,” Silena said, her tone changing to grow more serious. When Percy looked up at her, her eyebrows were furrowed. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that. You’re a cute kid and I have a talent for knowing when someone’s going to grow into their looks.” She winked at Percy, her expression softening. 

Percy inhaled through his nose. “I - okay, then,” he said. “Sorry.” He wasn’t going to argue with her about this, but there was no way he believed he could ever possibly be attractive enough to be a son of Aphrodite, he’d been told enough times over the years how unsettling he was to look at. 

“There’s no reason to apologize, kid,” she said. “Anyways, you’re doing amazing, but it’s about time to wrap up this lesson. Your cabin has sword-fighting lessons in fifteen.” 

Percy nodded, nudging Berry with his knees to guide her back to the stables. Once they arrived at the door, Percy instinctively dismounted her, surprised by how smoothly he landed despite the top of his Afro only barely reaching the pegasus’s shoulders when he stood next to her. He frowned, realizing he’d need a haircut soon - his māmā was the only person who’d ever done his hair, he didn’t want to have anyone else do it…he’d just wait til he could save her from the Underworld. 

Percy quietly followed Chris to the arena, his mind racing even as he made appropriate noises to act like he was listening to what his friend was saying. 

That day’s sword-fighting lesson was only Cabin Eleven. Everyone seamlessly split themselves into groups; not by age, but seemingly by skill. Chris had moved over to stand by Ash and Ethan, while Alabaster was standing next to a tiny girl with lime green box braids and a scrawny guy with sharp brown eyes. 

Luke was standing away from everyone else, a broad smile on his face. “Hey, Perce, you’re up here,” he called out. “Newbies always work with me on their first day.” 

Percy smiled crookedly as he scurried over to him. Connor Stoll made a goofy face at him before turning his attention to the buff girl standing across from him. 

“Okay, everyone, go ahead and run through some drills!” Luke said. “If you need me, just catch my attention, kay?” 

Everyone voiced their assent before Luke turned to Percy. “Okay, let’s do this! I’m gonna start by teaching you some stances and then we’ll find you a sword, sound good?” 

Percy swallowed hard, nodding nervously. Luke laughed, clasping his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, kid,” he said. “I’m a good teacher.” 

“He’s a slave-driver!” Travis called out, from where he was standing with Miranda Gardiner, an unclaimed redhead who was chuckling even as she got ready to start sparring with the son of Hermes. 

“Ah, shut up, I’m not that bad,” Luke said, laughing before turning to Percy with a carefree smile. “Let’s do this.” 

Percy nodded again, this time with determination. The first ten minutes of the lesson weren’t too hard, he was just copying examples of the posture and stances that Luke was showing him. 

After that, they spent about five frustrating minutes trying to find Percy a sword that actually felt right in his hands. Percy wished he could use the sword that had appeared in his pocket when he fought Ms. Dodds, but he would rather not reveal it until he knew its origins. Eventually they landed on one that still felt unbalanced, but was marginally better than the others. 

Luke started him on stabbing and slashing at some straw-stuffed dummies someone had packed into old panoply. Percy thought he did a pretty good job, it was hard to tell with an inanimate object as his opponent, but his reflexes seemed strong. 

Finally, Luke decided to have Percy spar against him. Chris laughed as he called out, “Good luck!” even as he did his utmost best to dodge Ash’s brutal strikes. “Luke’s the best swordsman the Haven has had in three centuries!” 

“Focus on me, dumbass, not your friend!” Ash snapped, managing to slap him on the top of the head with the flat of her xiphos, causing him to stumble. 

Percy inhaled deeply before returning his attention to Luke. “You’re not gonna take it easy on me, are ya?” he asked, uneasily. 

Luke’s teeth flashed blindingly in the sunlight as he threw his head back to laugh. “Nah,” he said. “You’ll survive though.” 

The next two minutes were brutal as Luke kicked Percy’s ass, making sure to call out encouragement and suggestions even as he whacked his hoplite sword against Percy’s ribs, causing him to buckle and fall to the ground. “Get up and try again, kid!” Luke said. “Remember, never stay down.” 

This exact process repeated again and again and again until Percy was thoroughly battered, and Luke called for a water break. 

Percy was doing his best to heave in deep breaths from where he was squatting with his hands on his knees, as he watched Luke dump some ice cold water from the cooler into his head. 

Oh, that was a great idea! 

When Percy did the same, he immediately started breathing easier as he felt his second wind hit him. Strength surged back to his arms and legs and, suddenly, his practice sword didn’t feel as awkward. 

Luke called out, “Okay, Cabin, gather round! I’m going to demonstrate a new disarming move with Percy as my partner.” 

“Victim,” someone coughed out. 

Percy didn’t put up an argument as he got into position. Luke nodded proudly at him. “Okay, the technique has you twisting your opponent’s blade with the flat of your own sword, forcing them to drop it. It’s not easy so I don’t want to hear any heckling from the peanut gallery when Percy struggles, understand?” 

When Luke slowly ran through the movements, it ended exactly as he told them it would, with Percy’s sword clattering to the ground. 

Percy grabbed it off the ground before getting back into position. “Now, we’ll be doing this in real time,” Luke said. “We’ll keep going until one of us manages it, okay Percy?” 

“Sounds good,” Percy said, inhaling deeply and focusing on the rush of strength that was still running through him. 

Luke grinned as he rushed at him. Percy allowed his instincts to guide him, managing to counter a strike at the hilt of his sword before striking in return. Luke easily blocked it, but his expression shifted into something more focused as he attacked with more force. 

After a moment, Percy felt his newfound energy starting to drain and decided, fuck it, he might as well try the new move. 

Both his and Luke’s eyes widened as he succeeded, causing Luke’s blade to clatter against the stones of the floor beneath them. The tip of Percy’s sword was centimeters away from Luke’s undefended chest. 

The arena was silent. 

Percy dropped his arm as his mouth fell open. “Um,” he began hesitantly. “Sorry?” 

Luke’s face split into a thrilled grin. “Sorry? By the gods, Percy, that was amazing! Show me that again!” 

Percy wasn’t able to. 

The rush of energy was gone, leaving his body feeling heavier than ever. Their next match was no challenge, Luke almost immediately disarming him. 

“Beginner’s luck?” Ethan suggested, even though his expression said he didn’t believe that for a second. 

“Maybe,” Luke mused, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stared at Percy with a new kind of interest. “But now I want to see what Perce here can do with a balanced sword….” 

After that, Luke let them all go, telling them they had the rest of the day off but reminding them that they had their monthly Capture the Flag game at the end of the week. 

Friday afternoon, Percy found himself sitting at the lake with Grover. There was a group of limnades at its bottom and one blew Percy a kiss, causing his entire face to heat up. 

They were resting after a grueling hour on the rock climbing wall. The lava hadn’t really hurt Percy, but had managed to burn several holes in his shirt and singe his arm hair. 

It had been all too easy for Grover though, who’d scampered to the top in about five seconds flat. Lucky goat. 

“So, uh, how’d your talk with Lord D go?” Percy asked. 

Grover grimaced as he stared into the lake. “Oh, absolutely great,” he said dully. 

“So, your career is still on track?” 

Grover stared at Percy in shock. “Kheiron mentioned I’m trying to get a searcher’s license?” 

“Ah, no? He said something about you being a…Fýlax and having big dreams, though. Did you get in trouble?” 

Grover tucked his fists under his armpits. “Not really,” he admitted. “Lord D decided to withhold judgement. He said I didn’t actually fail or succeed with you, so my fate is tied to yours still. If you get a quest and let me tag along and we both come back alive, I can get my license.” 

Percy smiled, knocking their shoulders together. “Well, that’s good!” 

Grover bleated. “Please, we haven’t had a quest in like five years! Besides, even if you did get one, why would you want me to come with?” 

“Uh, ’cause you’re my best friend?” Percy said, looking at Grover like he was dumb. “Of course I’d want you to come with.” 

Grover just stared glumly down at the limnades. “Wish I had an actual skill like them,” he muttered, watching as they weaved baskets together. 

Percy blew out a breath before trying to distract Grover. “So…any idea who my theîos métēr could be?” he asked, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Katie and Drew during Arts and Crafts the day before. Neither of them had any idea who she could be, though for some reason Drew had been firmly against him being her brother - even as she insisted that it wasn’t because she thought he was ugly, rolling her eyes when he’d made an off-handed comment. 

Grover’s lips pursed, before shrugging. “Definitely not Athena,” he teased. “You hate reading too much.” 

“Hey, I don’t hate reading! I hate reading in English,” Percy retorted. 

Grover laughed, allowing Percy to relax. “Probably not Demeter, either,” he said. “You have, like, the opposite of a green thumb. You’re probably the son of a minor goddess, like Nemesis or Tykhe or someone like that.” 

Percy shrugged. “I kinda hope you’re right,” he said, lying back on the pier and staring at the clouds above them. “It’s crowded but Cabin Eleven already feels like home.” 

“Also, at least it’s definitely not one of the Kings,” Grover said. “Last time one of them had a kid, it was…really bad.” 

Percy felt his back tense. “Why was that?” he asked. He remembered Luke had said how powerful children of the first generation of the gods were but he hadn’t heard any specifics. 

“The King of the Gods broke the oath seventeen years ago. He saw a gorgeous TV starlet still a little stuck in the eighties and - well, he couldn’t help himself. He had a daughter with her, named Thalia. But the brothers had made an oath on the River Styx not to have more kids.” 

Thunder boomed in the distance and Percy’s mouth went dry. “That’s…the most serious oath you can make.” 

Grover nodded solemnly. “Zeus got off easy since he’s the King but Thalia…Thalia had to deal with his punishment.” 

“But that isn’t fair! She didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“Our world isn’t fair, Perce. Children of the eldest gods are insanely powerful, with strong auras that lead monsters to them. And when the Ruler of Many found out about Thalia, he was furious. He released some of the worst monsters from the pit to torment her, chasing after her and her allies, doing all they could to kill them. 

“Thalia’s friends survived but Thalia…well. She died a hero’s death, she would be in Elysium if it weren’t for her father stepping in during her final moments and transforming her. Now she protects our Haven, which had once just been a simple camp.” He gestures to the giant tree that Percy had run to when the Minotaur was attacking them. 

Percy blanched. “That tree…it’s….” 

“That's all that’s left of her,” Grover confirmed. “She forms our barrier, keeping monsters from reaching us.” 

The two lapsed into a dark silence. 

After a moment, Percy hesitantly asked, “Do you think someone could escape the Underworld?” 

“Sure, but not forever,” Grover said. “Herakles, Orpheus, and Houdini all managed it after all, though none of them were dead. Sisyphos managed for a bit, though that definitely didn’t work out for him. Wait, Percy, you’re not planning - ” 

“No,” Percy lied. “Of course not. I’m just curious.” 

Grover stared at him in disbelief, but thankfully they were interrupted by the dinner horn. 

Friday night, everyone was hyped up for the game. Luke had told Percy that their cabin had allied with Cabins Six and Seven, with Cabin Six leading them. The Athena, Apollon, and Hermes cabins were easily the most populated cabins in camp, though Cabin Ten was close behind. 

Cabin Five had taken everyone else. Percy wasn’t going to lie, he was a little anxious about the idea of fighting all of them, though all together the two teams were about the same size. However, the red team (Percy was on the blue team) was said to have some of the most vicious and creative fighters in the Camp. 

Clarisse was holding a long crimson silk banner, painted with a bloody spear and a boar’s head. The blue team’s banner was a glistening gray with a barn owl sitting on an olive tree painted on it. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Percy asked Luke, as he struggled to adjust to the heavy bronze armor he had been lent. 

“Annabeth wants you on border patrol. She’s an excellent strategist, so I suggest just listening to her orders,” Luke replied. 

Percy glanced over at the girl he knew was Annabeth. She was short and slender but her expression was confident, her stormy gray eyes blazing brilliantly as she seemed to analyze the other team, a small smile twitching at the corners of her lips. 

Kheiron hammered his hooves on the marble floor of the dinner pavilion. 

“Heroes!” he began. “You know the rules and objectives! The creek is the boundary line and the entire forest is fair game. Magical items are allowed, but killing and maiming are not. Prisoners may be disarmed but not bound or gagged and the flags must be prominently displayed with no more than two guards. I will be the referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!” 

Everyone shuffled to make sure they were ready. Percy tightened his grip on the hilt of the almost too heavy sword he’d been training with before adjusting his helmet. 

Annabeth yelled, “Blue team, forward!” 

Percy struggled to run to catch up to her as his team began marching. “Um, hi, we haven’t really had the chance to meet,” he said. 

Annabeth side-eyed him. “I’ve heard enough that I know what to do with you,” she said, her tone dry. “You’ll be by the creek - keep the reds away from our flag and other than that, stay out of my way.” 

She strode off while Percy stopped by the creek. “Cool,” he grumbled. “Great fuckin’ talk.” 

“Keep an eye out for Clarisse’s spear,” Chris called out to him before running into the woods. 

Percy felt like he was drowning in his armor; like a kid playing dress up. It was also an incredibly humid night. He could already feel himself begin to sweat. 

He’d only had one sword-fighting lesson, but he’d be fine, right? After all, he’d already fought two monsters. Also, he’d been getting into fights his whole life. Beyond that, no one would actually bother to attack him, right? He was just the border patrol. 

In the distance, Percy heard a conch horn blow. Immediately people began whooping, while Percy was left alone in the slowly darkening forest. A son of Apollo ran past Percy, leaping over the creek with deer-like grace before disappearing into enemy territory. 

Great, Percy got left out of all the fun, just like normal. 

Percy suddenly heard a low, canine growl. He felt his heart pounding as he anxiously lifted his off-balance sword, feeling a dangerous presence that was far too close for comfort. 

After a moment, the noise stopped; the presence had disappeared. 

Percy let out a sigh of relief and was about to lower his sword when the underbrush around him exploded and five children of Ares surged at him. He yelped, stumbling backwards. 

“Destroy the piece of shit extra!” Clarisse snarled. Her dark, furious eyes peeked out from under her helmet while her face twisted into an animalistic snarl. She was holding a five-foot long spear, the point of it flickering red. Alessia, Brianna, and two huge guys Percy didn’t recognize spanked her. 

They stormed across the creek. Percy could run, or he could try and fight half of the Ares cabin with a poorly-fitted shield and a sword that didn’t fit right in his hands. 

He took a deep breath and braced himself. 

He only just managed to sidestep the first attack by one of the guys, but unfortunately for Percy, his opponents weren’t as stupid as the Minotaur had been. Clarisse thrust at him with her spear while Percy evaded her brother’s sword, hitting the edge of his shield and leaving his arm numb from the electricity her spear apparently conducted. 

Oh, Percy was so fucked. 

He stumbled backwards, but wasn’t able to avoid Alessia’s pommel strike to his chest, causing him to fall to the ground, or the way one of the guys cut his arm. 

Clarisse smiled cruelly as she stood over him. “Grab his hair,” she told her siblings. “Let’s give him a haircut.” 

Percy scrambled to his feet but Clarisse hit him with her spear again, leaving his other arm numb. “Get the fuck away from me!” he hissed, almost standing in the creek. 

“Oh no, I’m shaking in my boots,” Clarisse said. “You’re so scary.” 

“The flag is that way,” Percy said shakily, gesturing to the opposite direction from where the flag actually was. 

“Oh, we don’t care about the fucking flag,” Brianna said, her voice high but raspy. “We care about the little bitch that made our cabin look stupid.” 

“You do that without my help,” Percy retorted. What a dumb thing for him to say, why did he say that? 

The guy who hadn’t managed to hit him yet let out a wordless scream of rage before going to strike him with his sword. When Percy went to deflect, he ended up slipping backwards and landing in the creek. 

Instantly, any exhaustion he’d been feeling faded. His strength returned and he felt his instincts begin working double time. Clarisse and Brianna stormed into the creek to attack Percy, but with no hesitation Percy swung the flat of his blade at Brianna’s helmet and hit it so hard it went flying off as Brianna crumpled to her knees, crying out in pain. 

The two guys rushed forward and Percy bashed his shield into one’s face, while using his sword to thrust at the other one, knocking him back. 

Both stumbled backwards and Alessia had an expression of…almost fear on her face as she hesitated to join her siblings. 

Clarisse had no such expression or pause. Her spear crackled with energy as she thrusted it at Percy, who managed to catch it between his sword and shield, effortlessly breaking it in half. 

She screamed with rage. “You fucking idiot! You worm!” 

She definitely would’ve said worse if Percy hadn’t struck at her then, hitting her between the eyes with the pommel of his sword and sending her crashing outside of the water. 

Not even a second later, Percy heard elated shrieking as Luke came barreling out of the woods, Ares’s banner held aloft as he raced towards friendly territory, flanked by Chris and Ash, who were fighting off some Hephaestus kids. 

“It was a fuckin’ trick!” Clarisse howled, lunging to stand up but she was too late, only managing to land on her feet after Luke had already passed through the creek. 

The banner shimmered and transitioned into the same shade of gray as their flag but with a caduceus displayed on it, causing the blue team to erupt into cheers as everyone converged onto the borders. 

Kheiron trotted out of the woods, blowing the conch horn. 

The game was over. The blue team had won. 

Percy was about to head over to join the celebration when Annabeth said, “Pretty good, hero.” 

Percy whipped around to see Annabeth appear to form into existence directly next to him. She’d been invisible the whole time. 

“It was a trap,” Percy realized. “You used me as bait.” 

A dimple appeared on Annabeth’s left cheek as she smiled. “Athena always has a plan, new guy. Now, where’d you learn to fight like that?” 

Percy scowled. “Who cares? You watched me get attacked by five people twice the size of me when I’ve had - what? A week max of training? Was your plan to get the shit beaten out of me?” 

Annabeth shrugged, looking bored. “I was going to help, but you handled yourself well. You didn’t need it.” 

She froze as she stared at his injured arm. “Wait - how did you do that?” 

“What, get hurt? Be so fucking for real,” Percy snapped. 

“No - look at it, Jackson,” Annabeth breathed. 

Percy looked at his arm, shocked to see his skin entirely healed, only the slightest amount of blood left behind. “I…don’t know,” he whispered. 

“Step out of the water,” she demanded. 

Percy immediately did so, immediately stumbling and almost collapsing as soon as his feet hit the dry forest floor. 

“How - this doesn’t make sense!” Annabeth exclaimed. “You said you have two moms!” 

“I do!” Percy insisted, confused. 

Before anything else could be said, a howled ripped through the forest. Everyone immediately went quiet, except for Kheiron, who called out, “Stand ready! My bow!” 

Annabeth drew her sword. 

An impossibly large black hound with lava red eyes and huge fangs stood on the rocks above them. 

It was staring directly at Percy. 

Everyone was frozen, other than Annabeth, who lunged in front of Percy and yelled, “Run!” 

She was too late, the hound had already leaped at Percy. As it hit Percy, slamming him into the ground and clawing at his chest, a cascade of arrows hit it directly in the neck. It fell dead at Percy’s feet, dozens of arrows sprouting from its neck. 

“Mà tén Athênê!” Annabeth cried. “That was a hellhound, they come from the deepest parts of the pit! They shouldn’t have been able to - ” 

“Someone summoned it,” Kheiron interrupted her. “Someone inside of the Haven.” 

Luke walked forward slowly, his moment of glory forgotten. In the crowd, Percy saw Katie and Drew staring at him, their eyes wide with horror. 

“It was Percy’s fault!” Clarisse hollared. “He must have done it!” 

“Be quiet, child,” Kheiron said, shaking his head. 

The body of the hellhound dissipated into darkness. 

Annabeth looked at Percy, something almost like concern in her eyes, though it was mixed with something analytical. “You’re injured,” she said. “Get in the water.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Percy rasped out. 

“Shut up and get into the creek, dumbass,” Annabeth said. “Kheiron, watch this.” 

Percy was in too much pain to argue. He dragged himself into the water. The second he touched it, he felt instant relief. The cuts on his chest faded away and with them, so did his weariness. 

When Percy stood up, still in the water, everyone was staring at him with wide eyes. 

“I’m sorry?” he said. “I don’t know how - ” 

But they weren’t staring at his healing wounds; their eyes were all pinned above his head. 

“I…I wouldn’t have guessed,” Annabeth whispered. “Jackson, look up.” 

Percy glanced upwards, seeing a fading symbol glowing above his head; a hologram of indigo light, shaped like a crown made of crab claws. 

“Your mother - that’s - I never would have guessed,” Annabeth said, her eyes wide. 

“It is determined,” Kheiron said firmly. 

Around Percy, all the campers began to kneel, even the Ares cabin, though they were clearly angrily reluctant to. 

“All hail Perseus Jackson,” Kheiron began, “son of Amphitritê Halosyndê, the Okeanid Queen of the Sea.” 

Chapter Text

In the end, being claimed didn’t change very much. 

Despite his mother being the Queen of the Sea, she wasn’t an Olympian, so Percy stayed in Cabin Eleven. He didn’t even get a bed since those were reserved for children of Hermes and those who’d been in the cabin for at least five years. He was still constantly surrounded by other people, having to share basically everything, and forced to follow the schedule Luke set up for them. 

Percy loved it. 

He wasn’t alone anymore and he’d even grown closer to several of his cabin mates since being claimed. Ash, Ethan, and Alabaster, (plus Al’s sister, Lou Ellen Blackstone) had all been claimed by so-called minor gods as well and seemed to know exactly how he felt about the situation - honestly, they seemed to understand his feelings better than he did sometimes. 

Katie and Drew did their best to stand by his side through it all as well, assuring him of their friendship, though he didn’t get to see them as much - Luke kept him busy. When he wasn’t participating in camp activities and classes, he was usually practicing swordplay, with Luke treating him as a sort of apprentice since realizing his aptitude with the weapon. Likewise, Silena, Lee, and Beckendorf treated him no differently than before, smiling whenever they saw him. 

Annabeth hadn’t approached him since his claiming, but he often saw her around camp, staring at him with inscrutable stormy eyes, like she wanted to dissect him. 

Still, most of the Haven avoided him like the plague, nervous at how he’d alone taken down half of the Ares Cabin - not to mention, unsure how to treat him knowing that his godly mother was a Queen, the wife of the infamous Poseidon. They seemed to see him as a bomb ready to explode at the smallest provocation. Plus, Cabin Five just unilaterally hated him. 

Percy would’ve been fine with this - he had friends by his side for the first time ever, who cared if some people still didn’t trust or like him? He was used to that. Or he would’ve been if he hadn’t found a newspaper in his sleeping bag, open to an article on the second page. 

BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT 

BY EILEEN SMYTHE 

Kala’i Jackson and her son Perseus are still missing one week after initial disappearance. The family’s burnt ’78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on an abandoned Long Beach road the night after Hurricane Arthur - which had left meteorologists perplexed with its sudden appearance; the car’s roof had been ripped off and the front axle torn. 

Mother and son had gone on a weekend trip to Montauk beach, but Sally’s husband, Gabriel Ugliano, said they left hastily after his stepson’s return from school, having just been expelled for violent behavior. 

Small traces of blood were found in the car and the surrounding area, but nothing that could track either of the Jacksons. Residents in the rural area report to have not seen anything unusual at the believed time of disappearance. 

Ugliano claims that his stepson was a troubled young man with violent tendencies, having been expelled from every school he attended. 

Police have not said whether Perseus is a suspect for his mother’s disappearance, but it is unlikely that they have ruled out foul play. Pictures of Kala’i and Perseus can be found at the top of this article. Police urge any potential witnesses or anyone with information to call the following toll-free number. 

The number had been circled in sharpie. 

Percy clenched his jaw tight, crumpling the newspaper before throwing it away and crawling into his sleeping bag, hiding his face in his pillow as he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to Morpheus to be allowed a dreamless night’s sleep. 

As usual, his prayers were left unanswered. 

Once asleep, Percy was assailed with a dream of himself in the middle of a storm, running along a stretch of an unknown beach. Behind him there was a sprawling city like none he’d ever seen, one that felt unfathomably ancient. 

His heart raced at the sight of two men wrestling in the distance. Tall and muscular, they were wearing chitones, one trimmed in blue with the other in green. The two men fought viciously, each strike that connected between them worsening the storm that raged around them, the sky flashing with harsh lightning and the tides swelling dangerously. 

Percy’s instincts screamed that he had to stop them. Though he didn’t know how, something deep in him insisted that if allowed to continue, the two would destroy everything around them. 

Please! he begged wordlessly. Stop!

His pleas went unheeded. Over the roar of thunder, Percy could vaguely hear the man in blue yelling Return it! It is not for you to use! 

The waves rose far enough to spray Percy with salt water. 

Dark, sinister laughter shook the earth as a deep voice crooned from below. Come to me, little hero. Come down to me! 

Percy woke in a cold sweat, trembling harshly. Luke stood over him, his bright eyes uncharacteristically somber. “Hey Perce,” he said gently. “Lord D wants to speak to you.” 

“Why?” Percy managed to stammer out. 

Behind Luke, Ash grimaced. She was sitting on her bed, clenching the sheets beneath her hands. 

“It’s best that he tells you,” Luke insisted, reaching out his hand to help Percy up. “I’m sorry, kid.” 

Hands trembling, Percy quickly got dressed before heading to the Big House, leaving his friends behind. 

He was unsure why he was being summoned, but past experiences informed him it could be nothing good. Authority figures never wanted to see him for good reasons, always blaming him for anything they could think of. He’d half expected it as soon as he’d been claimed - though he was the son of a minor goddess, he still remembered Luke telling him that children of primal gods tended to be uniquely dangerous and what was more primal than the depths of the ocean? 

On his way to the Big House, Percy couldn’t help but notice the dark, menacing clouds rolling in over the Haven. 

Luke had told him that it didn’t rain at the Haven unless D allowed it to, but the way these clouds seemed to be drawn directly to them made Percy wonder if D had a choice this time. 

Percy started walking faster, keeping his head down. 

When he arrived, he found D and Kheiron playing a game of pinochle against invisible opponents, the cards hanging in the sky. Lord D’s presence felt more than it ever had before, pressing down on Percy and making him feel rooted to the spot he stood, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t our very own illegitimate prince,” Lord D said, a vicious smile twisting his lips even as he didn’t bother to look up from his cards. “Don’t expect me to treat you any differently just because ol’ Crab-Hair is your mother.” 

Thunder rumbled in the distance; Lord D rolled his eyes. 

Kheiron pretended to care about his own hand, though the furrow in his brow betrayed his nervousness. 

“You know, if I had it my way, I would cause your molecules to all burst into flame simultaneously. It would solve a lot of our problems and I have no love lost for the Thalassic court, those gods have always been ever so haughty, thinking themselves so much better than the rest of us. Unfortunately for me, and you if we’re being honest, Kheiron insists that doing so would go against my mission in this cursed place: protecting you little bastards from harm.” 

“Spontaneous combustion is rather harmful, my Lord,” Kheiron said mildly. 

“Nonsense, old friend, the little zoea wouldn’t have time to feel a thing.” 

Percy swallowed hard, biting at his lower lip to stop himself from saying anything. 

Lord D finally looked up, his fiery violet eyes burning themselves into Percy’s vision, causing white dots to appear surrounding him. “Now, I agreed to restrain myself. Instead I’m considering turning you into a dolphin and sending you straight to your mother.” 

“My Lord - ” Kheiron began. 

“There is, of course, another option but it's utter foolishness and will ensure your death is far more painful than anything I could conceive,” Lord D continued. “Now, there is a council meeting my father insisted I be a part of. If you’re still here when I get back, I’ll be turning you into a Clymene dolphin and sending you down to Atlantis the natural way. If you have any sense at all, you’ll see it’s the kinder option.” 

Lord D set all but one of his cards down, twisting it between his fingers and transforming it into a plastic square, which Percy belatedly realized was a visitor’s pass. Then he dematerialized, disappearing into the winds, leaving behind the smell of freshly pressed grapes. 

Kheiron set his own hand down, finally looking up with a weary smile. “Please, my boy, sit. We have much to discuss.” 

Percy let out a shuddering breath before doing so, all but collapsing into the chair across from him. 

“How have you been, my boy? I haven’t spoken to you since last week’s Capture the Flag game. How did you find the Hellhound?” 

Percy felt himself begin to tremble. A part of him, the same part that lied to his māmā for years about the way Gabe treated him, wanted to say ‘That thing? Barely fazed me! I eat worse for breakfast!’ But what had lying ever done for him? 

“It was terrifying,” Percy admitted. “I thought I was going to die. I would’ve, if you and Cabin Seven hadn’t shot it.” 

“It’s far from the worst thing you’ll deal with, by the time you’re done.” 

Percy swallowed hard. “By the time I’m done…with what?” 

“Your quest, of course, should you choose to accept it.” 

Percy closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. When he opened his eyes, he quietly said, “Sir, you haven’t told me anything about it.” 

Kheiron grimaced, lacing his fingers together. “Ah, well, now that’s the tricky part. The details.” 

Thunder roared in the distance. Percy looked out to the sea, his mother’s kingdom, and anxiously watched the way the waves thrashed against the shore. The sea and the sky, fighting each other and destroying everything around them. 

“The kings…” Percy began. “They’re fighting, aren’t they? The Olympian kings? Something was…stolen?” 

Kheiron leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. “How do you know that?” 

Percy’s cheeks felt hot. “The weather’s been really weird since before Christmas, like nature’s been fighting itself. Plus…I’ve - well, I’ve been having dreams.” 

Kheiron’s dark eyes widened. “The dreams of those with divine blood…well, they shouldn’t be ignored. You are correct, my boy. The younger Kronides…they have been quarreling, the worst fight between the two in centuries. Something valuable has been stolen from the King of Olympos…his master bolt.” 

Percy felt ice shoot down his nervous system. “Wait….” 

“Yes, Basileus’s symbol of power has been stolen. As I’m sure you’re aware, this is not a laughing matter. This is the first weapon the Elder Kyklôpes created for the Titanomakhía, the war in which the Olympians fought their forebears for the right to rule over the heavens and earth. This is the weapon that sheared the top off Mount Aitna, that flung our father to the depths of the Pit. It is the king’s most prized possession…and he believes that you stole it.” 

Percy felt the blood drain from his face. “But - but I didn’t even know who I was until two weeks ago! It couldn’t have been me!” 

Kheiron held up a hand. “I believe you,” he said. “But, see, the Dodekatheon has four council meetings a year. One for each solstice and equinox. Now, during the winter solstice, Pelagaios and Hypatos were arguing, much like they always do - typically, this is just how they prefer to communicate. Alas, once the meeting ended, Hypatos realized his bolt was missing and he immediately blamed his brother. The thing is, though, a god cannot directly usurp another god’s symbol of power - it is forbidden by the most ancient of the divine laws, written by the Theai Arkhaiai themselves. But Hypatos believes that his brother had a human hero take it - he believes that you were chosen to do so.” 

“But that’s insane! I’ve never met him, besides my métēr, I don’t even have a connection to him! And I’ve never been to Olympos!” Percy interrupted. 

Kheiron sighed. “Patience, child. Just listen. Hypatos has good reason to suspect Pelagaios. The forges of the kyklôpes are under the ocean - which means Pelagaios holds dominion over the workshops that the makers of the gods’ weapons craft in. Hypatos believes his brother is having the kyklôpes create illegal copies of his most treasured weapon, which would then be used to overthrow him - it doesn’t help that Pelagaios has attempted to overthrow his younger brother before. The only thing Hypatos couldn’t figure out was who his brother would use - and then his sister-in-law openly claimed you as her son. 

“Now, something you may not understand is how truly rare it is for members of the Thalassic court to have children with humans. Their king did so most frequently, but their queen is of the Sea and while she has had children outside of her marriage before, it is typically with Tritones, Ikhthyokentauroi, or Haliai. You, as her son with a human woman, are…one of a kind. And Hypatos believes your mother let her husband…recruit you to do his dirty work. After all, you were in New York over the winter holidays - you could have snuck onto Olympos.” 

“That’s crazy! I don’t even know where Olympos is!” 

Kheiron pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps do not use words like crazy or insane to describe Basileus. Paranoid is a much better descriptor; after all, this wouldn’t be the first time Pelagaios tried to unseat him. I believe it was the subject of question thirty-eight in your final exam.” Kheiron stared at Percy meaningfully, as if expecting him to remember any of the questions of any of his exams. 

Percy’s nostrils flared. He wasn’t a thief, he couldn’t even manage to sneak a slice of pizza from one of Smelly Gabe’s stupid poker parties without being caught and…punished for it. But, as was typical, people always assumed the worst of him. 

Percy rubbed his forehead. “That was about the golden net, right? But that wasn’t just the king of the sea! Didn’t Hypatos’s own wife participate in it?” 

Kheiron arched an eyebrow. “She did, yes, but Hypatos has always had a soft spot for Hyperkheiria. And he never quite forgave or trusted his brother again after that misadventure. Though, of course, Pelagaios denied having stolen the master bolt. In fact, he was quite offended by the accusation. The two kings have been at the brink of war ever since. And then you came along - the flint striker that sparked the blaze of Hypatos’s true rage.” 

Percy felt tears well up in his eyes. “But I’m just a kid!” he cried out. 

Kheiron’s expression twisted with sympathy. “I know, my boy. But to the gods…the concept of childhood is oftentimes almost laughable. After all, they can reach maturity within weeks of birth. To Hypatos, you are simply the perfect tool for which your mother allows her husband to use.” 

Percy inhaled with a shudder. “But…my métēr’s husband didn’t steal the bolt, did he?” 

Kheiron inclined his head. “Many would argue thievery is not his style. But the King of the Sea is too prideful to consider trying to convince his brother of that. Hypatos has demanded Pelagaios has his bolt returned by the summer solstice. Which is June twenty-first, exactly ten days from now. And Pelagaios demands an apology on the same day. I had hoped that diplomacy might prevail - that one of the sisters may convince the two brothers to see sense but your claiming…Hypatos is enraged. Unless someone intervenes, giving Hypatos back his bolt and prompting him to apologize to Pelagaios, then I fear there will be a war. Do you know what happened in the last war between the gods, Percy?” 

Percy shook his head, feeling his throat get tight. 

“It began with what they called the “Night of Horrors”, my boy. It was the Galveston hurricane and flood in 1900. Eight thousand people died. And that wasn’t where it ended, either. No, that was with the Great Fire of 1910 - that was the largest wildfire in America and, while not the deadliest, it wreaked havoc. Do you understand what it would be like to have the sea and sky war against each other now?” 

“It would be…very bad.” 

“Catastrophic, my boy,” Kheiron said. “Millions would die and, most likely, you would be the first.” 

It began to rain. All around them, campers stopped to stare up at the sky with astonished, fearful expressions.  

Zeus was punishing the only haven for demigods because of his misplaced wrath towards Percy. The realization caused a protective rage to fill Percy. 

“Okay.” Percy clenched his fists. “I have to find his stupid bolt and return it to him.” 

Kheiron nodded. “Is there a better peace offering than to have the very child he believes took from him be the one to return his symbol?” 

“So, if the King of the Sea doesn’t have it, who does?” 

“I believe I know,” Kheiron said, his expression dark. “But before I tell you, you must officially claim this quest. You must seek the counsel of the Pythia.” 

Percy pursed his lips. “Why can’t you just tell me?” 

“Because if I did, you’d be too afraid to forge your path forwards.” 

“Fine,” Percy said, struggling not to roll his eyes at the non-answer. 

“So, you accept your quest?” 

“I do,” Percy said. “I’m not gonna let His Royal Lightning Bolt punish everyone because he’s mad at me and my mother’s husband.” 

Kheiron arched an eyebrow at Percy’s disrespect towards Zeus before nodding his head in assent. “Then it’s time for you to consult the Oracle. Head up to the attic, now. When you return, should your sanity be intact, we will finish this conversation.” 

The attic turned out to be four floors up, which gave Percy plenty of time to stress about why going up there meant risking his sanity. 

At the end of the flight of stairs, there was a green trapdoor. When Percy pulled the cord, it swung down and a wooden ladder fell down. 

The air of the attic smelt like decay and…snakes. It was like a vicious reminder of biology class. 

Percy held his breath and climbed upwards. 

The attic was like a terrifying antique store that focused specifically on Ellenikí culture. Percy saw old trunks plastered in stickers proclaiming destinations such as ITHAKA, AIAIA, and THEMISKYRA. There was ancient armor on display next to ruined shields and broken weapons. On the tables, there were various spoils of war, such as horns and claws and, in one grotesque case, the head of a drakon. 

But the worst thing on display was a mummified woman wearing a tye-dyed dress that fell to her ankles. Her face and hair were hidden behind a kalyptra. She was adorned in beaded necklaces and bracelets, thick rings covering her fingers. She had clearly been dead for a long time. 

Percy felt ice plunge through his system as he walked towards her; an instinctual kind of terror that made his heart race and his palms sweat. Once he was within a foot of her, she sat up and green mist began billowing out of her veil. A horrifyingly ancient voice spoke directly to Percy’s consciousness: I am Pythia, the Oracle of Delphi, High Priestess of Apollon Thearios, slayer of Python. I speak with his voice, telling his prophecies. Approach, seeker, and ask. 

Percy’s jaw clenched tight and for a second he imagined putting his hands in the air while laughing awkwardly, declaring that ‘Oh sorry, I must’ve gone through the wrong door! I was looking for the bathroom’ but he forced himself to inhale deeply, forcing his shoulders to untense. 

The woman wasn’t alive. As she said, she spoke with the voice of Loxias, she existed simply to communicate prophecies. The presence that possessed her wasn’t evil like the Minotaur, instead it reminded Percy of the Moirai. Older than he could hope to comprehend and more powerful than he could possibly imagine but with little interest in his existence beyond how it served the machinations of fate. 

“What is my destiny?” Percy asked through gritted teeth. 

The mist surrounding Percy swirled thickly around him, solidifying into familiar visages. Sitting at the table by the Pythia sat Smelly Gabe and his odious friends. 

Percy fought the urge to stumble back, his fists clenched. He knew his stepfather wasn’t really sitting before him, but that didn’t stop anxiety from pooling in his stomach. 

Gabe spoke first, the rasping voice of the Oracle emerging as he turned to face Percy. You shall go west, and face the god who has turned. 

The man to his left, the one who liked to throw beer bottles at him, spoke next. You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned. 

The man on Gabe’s right, who’d always had a strange sneer on his face whenever he saw Percy, followed. You shall be betrayed by those who you call friends. 

Finally, Eddie, their building’s super and the only person Gabe spent time with who was ever kind to Percy, took his turn and delivered the most devastating line. And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.

The men dissipated back into mist, forming an enormous green serpent that wrapped around the woman’s legs before slithering under her veil. “Wait, no!” Percy exclaimed, tripping forwards. “What does that mean? What friend? What do I fail to save?” 

But the presence had disappeared with the snake, a clear statement that Percy’s audience with Oracle had concluded. 

When he made his way back downstairs, Kheiron turned to him with a weak smile. “Well?” 

Percy slumped into a seat at the table across from him. “She said I would retrieve what was stolen,” he said quietly, his eyes downcast. 

“What did she say exactly? This is very important,” Kheiron said, his eyes somber. 

“She said…I will go west and face a god who had turned. That I would find what was stolen and see it returned.” 

Kheiron’s brows furrowed. “What else?” 

Percy couldn’t find it within himself to tell him. 

He’d never had many friends growing up, everyone seeing him as a stupid, poor weirdo with a temper and a habit of solving his problems with his fist. The Haven had been the first place he’d ever found an actual, legitimate group of people who seemed to genuinely like him. 

He couldn’t believe they’d betray him. 

Not to mention, that final line. He’d fail at this, like he did everything else. 

Nah, he was happy to keep that to himself. 

“That’s it,” he said emptily. 

Kheiron’s eyes narrowed as he studied Percy’s face before finally nodding. “Very well. Just remember, my boy, the Pythia has never been known for being clear in her meanings. Don’t allow yourself to dwell on what she says. It most likely won’t make sense until the events have come to pass.” 

Percy nodded shakily. 

Eager to change the subject, he said, “So who is the god in the west?” 

“Think, Percy. Who stands to gain if the kings wage war?” 

Percy sighed. Once a teacher, always a teacher. Kheiron could never just give him the answers to his questions, always making him think the problem through. 

“I don’t know - the god of war?” 

Kheiron laughed lightly. “Perhaps, but I believe that your bias against Cabin Five is shining through.” 

Percy wrinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know then - somebody who wants power?” 

“Exactly. Somebody who holds a grudge against the brothers, who has been stuck with an unlucky lot in life for eons, whose kingdom will only grow as millions upon millions die. Somebody who resents his brothers for forcing him into an oath to not sire any more children, an oath the youngest has already broken.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself, he started to laugh. “You think it’s the oldest brother.” 

“I do,” Kheiron said. “Polysêmantôr makes the most sense. You’ve had one of the Eumenides sent after you and they only serve one lord: the King of the Underworld. Not to mention a hellhound got into camp and only attacked you. Hellhounds can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment and it had to have been done by someone within our boundaries. He must have a spy on the inside.” 

“Okay, then.” Percy set his head in his hands. “I’m going to the Underworld. Do I have to go alone?” 

“No, my boy, of course not. You may bring two companions.” 

Percy looked up. “Grover should come with me. He said the only way he can move forward in his career is if he goes on a quest with me and we come back alive.” 

Kheiron exhaled through his nose, his lips pinched. “Very well,” he said. “Now, someone has already volunteered to be your second companion.” 

Percy made a face. “Who would want to go to hell with me?” 

The air in front of Percy shimmered, revealing Annabeth to be standing in front of him. “I’m your best hope to actually survive this, Seaweed Brain,” she said, sneering at him.  

Percy was about to protest, remembering her using him as bait in Capture the Flag, before he froze. You shall be betrayed by those who you call friends, the voice of the Oracle whispered in his memories. Annabeth wasn’t his friend, he couldn’t ever see them being friends. Grover would never betray him like that, far too loyal to even consider it despite his history of deceit, but Annabeth…wasn’t even an option. 

“Okay,” he said. “You can come too.” 

Annabeth and Kheiron both seemed surprised at his lack of argument. “Oh, then,” Annabeth said. “Okay. Let’s do this.” 

Percy nodded. “Let’s do this,” he said. 

As he headed back to the Hermes cabin, one thought ran through his mind. 

He had no desire to help his métēr or patriós. He was sure they were using him as a tool against Zeus. The timing of him getting claimed was too convenient otherwise. 

But…a quest to the Underworld was exactly what he wanted. A quest to the Underworld meant a chance to save his māmā. Who cared if he failed the quest in the end, if it meant a chance that he could get her back? 

(He cared, of course. Percy didn’t want millions of deaths on his hands. But his māmā was so much more important to him than anything else could ever be). 

Now, to convince his scaredy-cat best friend to go to the Land of the Dead with him. 

Chapter Text

Percy puffed out his cheeks before exhaling as he headed towards the clearing in the woods that Grover had mentioned was where he had grown up. A beautiful dryad stepped out of one of the trees, her eyebrow arched. “Hello, young demigod,” she said. “Why are you here?” 

“Uh, I wanted to talk to Grover?” Percy said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

The dryad’s expression softened, a smile curving her dark green lips. “Oh, you must be Percy. It’s a pleasure, Grover has spoken very highly of you. I’m Laurel, his aunt.” 

Percy ducked his head. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” 

Laurel laughed, a warm sound. “Let me go get him for you,” she offered. 

She stepped away, walking into the clearing and disappearing from sight the moment she crossed the boundary. Moments later, Grover ran through it and up to Percy, anxiety clear on his face. “Perce! I heard Lord D and Kheiron summoned you! What’s going on?” 

Percy smiled weakly. “Hey, G-Man. You still interested in going on a quest with me?” 

Grover blinked. “Wh - I mean, of course! What do you mean, though?” 

“I’ve been chosen to return His Royal Lightning Bolt’s, well…lightning bolt. Kheiron thinks his oldest brother stole it and wants me to be the one to get it because apparently I’m the main suspect for who stole it in the first place.” 

“Wait - we’d be going - you want me to go to the Underworld with you?” Grover sputtered, his face paling. 

Percy nodded. “Yeah, man. You told me Lord D said you had to go on a quest with me to become a Fýlax. If you wanna come with me, I’m down. It’d be you, me, and Annabeth,” he said. 

Grover closed his eyes. “Satyroi don’t do well underground, man, but…yeah. I wanna come with you. Even if it didn’t mean I could get my license, you’re my best friend and Annabeth…well, it doesn’t matter. I want to come.” 

Percy felt tension leak out of him. “Awesome, man! Get ready, we’ll meet in an hour?” 

Grover smiled wanly, nodding. “Sounds good to me.” 

“Awesome! I’ll meet you at the Big House in like…two hours? I got to tell some people what’s going on and pack for the quest, but that should be enough time!” 

Grover reached forward and yanked Percy into a tight hug. “Thanks for choosing me, Perce. You have other friends who’d be more than happy to go with you and it means a lot that you’d choose me after everything.” 

Percy felt his cheeks flush. “It’s no problem, seriously. You need this and I trust you. That’s all that matters.” 

Grover pulled away, clasping Percy on the shoulder. “I won’t forget this,” he said, his dark eyes (which Percy only just realized had slanted pupils…that’s so fucking trippy, knowing the old stories were actually real wouldn’t stop being weird anytime soon) somber. “See you in a couple hours.” 

Grover headed back to his clearing and Percy turned around, heading to Cabin Eleven, his head ducked down. 

When he entered the Cabin, he was immediately surrounded by his friends. “So, Kheiron and Mr. D decided to send you on a quest?” Chris asked, his eyes wide. 

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I’m gonna get the Sky King’s symbol of power back…from the Underworld.” 

Luke’s jaw tensed. “They think Aidoneus did it and they’re sending twelve year olds to handle it?” he hissed, his eyes narrow. 

Percy shrugged. “Yep,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, plus Grover.” 

Ash barked out a laugh at that, though there was no amusement in the sound. “Grover’s a sweetheart, but he basically is a twelve year old. Satyroi age slowly and he’s always been a late bloomer. I can’t believe Kheiron didn’t insist that an older demigod accompanied you - like myself or Luke or, hell, one of the cabin counselors who isn’t twelve!” 

Luke set a hand on her shoulder. “Annabeth has almost as much experience as I do,” he reminded her. “While I’d prefer they send someone older too, if they have to let a kid go with Percy, I’d rather Annabeth than any of the others.” 

He turned to Percy, weariness shining in his dark eyes. “I have something for you that I hope will help.” 

Percy’s eyes widened. “You do?” 

Luke nodded, holding out a shoebox. When Percy opened it, he felt almost disappointed at the sight of a pair of dark brown converse. His feelings must have been obvious on his face because Luke chuckled before uttering the word, “Maia.”

Instantly, a pair of miniature hawk wings sprouted from the sides of the shoes. Percy startled, almost dropping the shoes. Luke actually laughed this time, saying the word again, causing the wings to fold up and disappear. 

“Those were a gift from my father before my first quest,” he said, his expression pensive. “Hopefully they’ll be of more use to you then they were to me.” 

Percy tucked the shoebox under his arm. “Thanks, Luke.” 

“No problem, Perce. I wish I could help more, but know that Cabin Eleven will be cheering you on from here, okay? You’re one of us.” 

Chris and Alabaster walked forward, each setting an arm around Percy’s shoulders. “I don’t have any fancy gifts for you, man, but shoot me an IM if you need anything while questing, okay?” Chris said. “I’m sure Al, Ethan, or Lou Ellen will want to hear from you too. You got this.” 

Lou Ellen stepped forward, biting at her lower lip. “You better come back alive, dummy,” she said. “The ‘children of powerful goddesses no one respects’ club can’t lose a member, you know?” Alabaster squeezed his shoulder before pulling away and lightly punching his upper arm. 

“What Lulu said,” he said. “You’re one of us, man, and even though we won’t be going with you, that doesn’t mean you get to miss next month’s club meeting.” 

Percy chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “I won’t let you guys down.” 

Ash moved forward, pulling Percy away from Chris and into a warm hug. “You couldn’t if you tried,” she said, burying her face in his hair. When she pulled away, her red eyes were shining with repressed tears that she quickly blinked away, her expression returning to the steely one Percy had gotten to know. “Now, while you were talking to Kheiron, we packed a questing bag for you. It has about a week’s worth of clothes, about seven hundred US dollars and one hundred drachmae, and some néktar and ambrosia directly from Lee and Eleni.” 

Percy’s eyes were bulging out of his head. “Seven hundred dollars?” he stuttered. 

“It’s enough to get you from here to LA and back, plus some money for food. We worked together to get you all this, so keep this bag on you at all times, okay? Sleep with it if you have to, but do not lose it,” Ash said, a pointed expression on her face. 

“Aye, aye captain,” Percy said with a semi-cheeky salute, trying to calm down his racing heart. He’d never seen this much money. 

“Oh, get out of here, you brat,” Ash said, laughing and shaking her head. 

“I’m gonna head out,” Luke interrupted. “I need to talk to Annabeth before you leave.” 

As he was heading out, Ethan said, “She stopped by earlier to tell Luke she was going with you. Got to say, I was surprised to hear you were taking her. I thought you hated her after the whole ‘bait’ thing in Capture the Flag. I know I was pissed.” His eye darkened at the thought. “If Luke didn’t see her as a little sister, I would’ve beaten her ass for doing that to you.” 

You shall be betrayed by those who you call friends, drifted through Percy’s mind again and he inhaled slowly, before exhaling. “She offered and I remembered Luke telling me she made the best plans in the haven,” he lied. “I thought that would probably be useful on the quest.” 

Ethan’s eye narrowed but he didn’t argue. “Okay then,” he said. “Come back alive, asshole.” 

Percy nodded jerkily at him. “I’ll do my best.” 

Ethan, Ash, Alabaster, and Lou Ellen all headed back to their spot after that, leaving Chris alone with Percy. Chris stared at him for a moment before his lips curved into a slightly mischievous smile. “If you happen to see our patron while you’re out there,” he said, “give him hell for me?” 

“Yeah, man, of course,” Percy said with a laugh. “I’ll make sure that asshole knows that he should just fucking claim you already.” 

Chris surprised Percy by pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re a good guy, Perce,” he whispered. “Don’t let our parents trick you into thinking they care about us.” 

Percy inhaled sharply at that, his eyes widening. “I won’t,” he breathed. 

When Chris pulled away, he had a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll see you when you get back,” he said. 

“Yeah, you will,” Percy said, before heading out of the cabin and to the hearth in the middle of the Haven, where he found Drew and Katie sitting across from Aesa. The small, cloaked girl looked up and winked at Percy, pressing a finger to her lips before gesturing to the girls, who didn’t seem to even realize she was sitting near them. 

With wide eyes, Percy sent her a thumbs up before going to his friends. 

Drew looked up, arching an eyebrow. “I cannot believe you chose Annabeth Chase over one of your very bestest friends,” she cooed. 

Percy rolled his eyes, settling down between the two, where they’d left a perfectly sized gap. “Grover’s my best friend,” he retorted. “You’re just obsessed with me.” 

Drew snorted, a smile appearing on her face seemingly against her will. 

“Oh, just say you’re sexist and go,” Katie interjected, laughing. 

Percy shook his head, smirking at them. “Because I totally don’t have a girl coming with me on this stupid quest.” 

“She doesn’t count, you hate her,” Drew said. “Not that anyone can blame you, she sucks.” 

“I don’t hate her,” Percy argued. “I just don’t appreciate her using me as bait in a dumb game. But Luke speaks highly of her, plus her brains and experience will be a huge help.” 

“Please,” Drew said. “Girlie hasn’t left camp in five years. She’ll be no more help than either of us would be.” 

“Do either of you even want to go on this bullshit quest?” Percy asked. 

Katie shook her head. “No, I can’t leave my siblings behind and there’s no way Silena would let Drew go.” 

“Speaking of Silly, she and Beck told me to give you their best. They wanted to come and wish you luck, but thought you’d probably rather have time to say bye to us. They said Lee and Eleni also want us to pass on their good-byes,” Drew interjected. “You better come back, asshole. You’ll make a lot of people sad if you die.” 

Percy felt himself shrink down. “I’ll do my best,” he muttered. 

“Anyways, back on topic. I just can’t believe you decided to bring Annabeth fucking Chase along when you could’ve brought someone like Chris or Ethan,” Drew said, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Dee, I swear to our parents, if you don’t shut up,” Percy snapped. “Leave me alone about them!” 

Katie rolled her eyes, leaning against him. “It just doesn’t make sense that you landed on Annabeth of all people when half the time you stare at her like you want her dead.” 

Percy closed his eyes. “I don’t have to get along with her for us to go on a quest together,” he asserted. “There’s a million other people I’d have preferred to bring along but she offered first and, who knows, maybe she’ll turn out to not suck. It’s not like I actually know her.” 

“Ha!” Drew snarled, her dark eyes burning. “You may not know Annabeth, but we do. I’ve known Annabeth Chase for two years and she’s been a stuck-up bitch for both of them. She thinks I’m stupid and Katie’s useless because of our mothers - she refuses to see past people’s parentage to get to know them, but also apparently hasn’t read enough myths to realize that goddesses with epithets like Erinys and Areia may have more to them than gardening and looking pretty.” 

Katie reached over Percy to grab Drew’s slender hand. “It’s true, Perce. Hopefully you’ll get through to her and she’ll finally realize she’s not better than the rest of us just because her métēr is the goddess of wisdom, but we’ve had some really shitty experiences with her.” 

Percy deflated, resting his head against hers. “I get it,” he said. “Look, I have my reasons for bringing her. I doubt we’ll become best friends doing this bullshit but even if we learn to not hate each other, I won’t forget that you two have been there for me basically since I got here.” 

“Good,” Drew said, squeezing Katie’s hand before releasing it and hitting his shoulder. “For some reason we like you and we’re not letting an arrogant owlet steal you away.” 

Percy chuckled, knocking his shoulder against hers. “Okay, I should probably go. I’ll see you guys in ten days or less, okay? I’m gonna prove that I’m innocent and come back.” 

“You better,” Katie said as she pulled away from him. “Cabins Four and Ten have your back, okay?” 

“Okay,” Percy said, before standing up and taking one last look at the Haven, at the cabins, the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House before taking a deep breath and making his way up Hemitheos Hill to the pine tree that had once been Thalia, daughter of Zeus. 

Annabeth, Grover, and Kheiron were waiting for him; Annabeth impatiently tapping her foot and staring at the road that would lead them away from the Haven. Next to them stood a huge blond man that Percy had seen around (Ethan had said his name was Argus and that he was the Haven’s head of security, sent there by the Queen herself as a sign of goodwill). He was apparently covered in eyes, but he was wearing a suit and hat, so the only ones that could be seen were on his hands. 

“Argus is going to drive you into the city,” Kheiron said. “He’s also going to…well, keep an eye on things on the way.” 

Annabeth glanced at Percy from the corner of her eye before her lips twisted into a scowl and she headed over to a white SUV, Grover following behind with a sheepish grin on his face. 

Percy looked at Kheiron for a moment before holding up the shoebox Luke had given him. “These are Luke’s flying shoes. I probably shouldn’t use them, huh?” 

Kheiron grimaced. “With the Lord of the Sky blaming you for his missing symbol of power…probably not. Luke meant well, but it could be dangerous.” 

Percy frowned, disappointed, before shrugging. “I’ll pawn them off to Grover, then. He’ll find a use for them.” 

Kheiron nodded, a faint smile on his face. “You still have that sword I gave you hidden away in your pocket, right?” 

Percy’s hand flew down to his pocket, his mouth agape. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to steal it, it just appeared in my - ” 

Kheiron laughed, waving a hand. “It’s fine, my boy. I put it in your pocket because you needed it. It was supposed to be for you, anyways. Your métēr gave it to me millennia ago, citing an important prophecy given by one of her kingdom’s oracles. With you here now…it all makes sense, I suppose.” 

Percy pulled the pen out of his pocket; it was made of a heavy white copper engraved in ancient lettering that he couldn’t quite read. He slowly pulled the cap off and once he did, it morphed into the sword that he’d defeated Ms. Dodds with. It was short with a double-edged leaf-shaped blade that gleamed a brilliant blue-green in the sun, ending in a flat hilt riveted with the same metal as the blade and a handle bound in something like leather. The same ancient lettering from the pen was carved into the blade. It was the first sword to feel balanced in his hands. 

Kheiron nodded at it. “I am not fluent in Atlantean, but the name for that sword in Élliniká is Anaklusmos. It has a long and tragic history.” 

“Riptide,” Percy muttered. 

“Only use it if you must,” Kheiron warned, “and only against Terrors. It will not harm mortals, of course.” 

“It won’t?” Percy asked. 

“That sword is made of oreikhalkos, a metal only found in the deepest depths of the sea around Atlantìs, typically only used by those born of the sea. Forged by the Kyklôpes in their forges in Atlantìs, tempered in the heart of Mount Aitna, and cooled in the River Ôkeanos itself. There are a few different kinds of godly metal, but Atlantean Oreikhalkos is one of the rarest kinds. However, much like Celestial Bronze, it deems mortals too unimportant to kill. It will simply pass through them. I should warn you though: because of your combined mortality and divine heritage, you can be killed by any weapon. You’re more vulnerable than a Terror or a mortal.” 

Percy huffed. “Good to know.” 

“Now, should you fall unconscious or place the cap back on it, it will become a pen again. And, luckily for you, it is enchanted to always reappear among your belongings. You cannot lose it.” 

Percy felt himself flush at the reminder of his terrible habit of losing pens. “Better to know,” he said. He placed it back in his pocket. “And mortals won’t see it as a sword, right? Because of the Mist?” 

Kheiron beamed at him. “So you have been paying attention to your lessons!” 

Percy shuffled his feet. “Yeah, Ash and I’ve been reading the Iliad. She told me that Nyktipolos made it so that if any part of our world mixed with the mortal world, that Mist is generated by that, and mortals can’t see it.” 

“Exactly correct, my boy! There are some mortals who can see through it for various reasons, usually because of far-removed divine heritage or because the Theai Arkhaiai decreed it should be so, but most mortals are blind to that which we see so clearly.” 

Percy bit his lower lip. This quest was becoming too real. He would be leaving Ímitheos Katafýgio and heading back into the real world, where he’d have to fight off monsters and journey to the Land of the Dead. There would be no adult supervision, he wouldn’t even have a cellphone. Sure, he could IM the camp, but he only had so many drachmae. It would just be Annabeth, Grover, and him, on their own. 

“Kheiron…the gods are immortal. But there was a time before them, right?” 

“There were, yes. Only one has a name that has been passed down through the ages, that which Hesiod called the Golden Age, though that was a misnomer. But, I believe there were at least four Ages prior to the rule of the Olympians.” 

“What was it like? Before the gods?” 

Kheiron’s brows furrowed. “I would not know, my boy. I was a young foal when the King of Olympos began his rule but…from what I remember and what my mother told me…it was a time of wildness. It was before the ancient laws had been set into place, before the Theai Arkhaiai passed their words down to her Lady Themis. Ankylomêtēs had been cursed with the same paranoia as his father and ruled with an iron fist. He had no interest in mortals and they did not age past young adulthood but they also did not die until well beyond what we would consider old age. They had no responsibilities because they held no importance. 

“It wasn’t until the early days of the Olympian rule that mortals became what we know today, after Prometheus bestowed fire upon them. And this was not a popular decision among the gods, after all you know of his punishment. But, eventually the gods learned to accept mortals as they are now and the civilization that we now know was allowed to be created.” 

Percy fidgeted. “The gods can’t die though, right? They’re immortal. Even if I fail, I won't mess everything up.” 

Kheiron stared into the distance. “They cannot die, no. But that doesn't mean they can’t change or be trapped away in punishment. After all, the titans also can’t die. Neither can the primordials. But, neither do they rule in the ways they once did. We can never know how long this Age is to last and while we can hope that the gods will not fall, that we shall never return to our ancient days of darkness and chaos, nothing is guaranteed. All we can do is follow the path the Theai Arkhaiai have woven for us.” 

“And we can’t know what that path is.” 

“Relax,” Kheiron advised. “If you keep a clear head and a passion to do what is right, you may yet prevent the largest war this world has ever known.” 

“Oh, of course. How could I be anything but relaxed,” Percy snipped. 

He headed down the bottom of the hill, to the SUV. When he looked back up, one last time, Kheiron was standing in his full kentauros form, holding his bow up in salute. 

What a way to remind Percy how his life had completely changed in the past two weeks. 

.

.

. 

After two weeks in the Haven, the mortal world was what felt fantastical. Being on the Long Island Expressway, seeing McDonalds down the sides of the highway, and watching as billboards for various lawyers and businesses that Percy didn’t care about flew by, had him feeling like he was in a daze. 

“Look, ten miles in and not a single Terror yet,” Percy said, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. 

Annabeth scowled at him. “You are such an idiot. Are you purposefully tempting the gods into proving you wrong?” 

Percy rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “Whatever,” he said. “Is there a reason you hate me or did you just come pre-packaged that way?” 

Annabeth’s face contorted. “I don’t hate you,” she denied. “I just have no interest in being your friend.” 

“Oh, no interest in being my friend but plenty of interest in coming on my quest,” Percy retorted, with a sneer. 

Next to them, Grover started shifting in his seat. At his friend’s clear discomfort, Percy took a deep breath in through his nose before releasing it and forcing his shoulders to relax. Annabeth’s face spasmed, her eyes narrowing. 

“You don’t know what it’s like, being stuck in the Haven for five years. I’m only allowed to leave for field trips and it’s not exactly like we have a lot of those! Plus, how am I supposed to honor my métēr if I never manage to earn any real kléos?” Annabeth snapped. “I’ve fought plenty of monsters and can handle myself but was never allowed to go on a quest until you had one delivered to you on a silver platter. So I’m so sorry that I wanted to accompany you on this world-saving quest - something that you, friendly reminder, agreed to!” 

Percy stared at Annabeth in silence for a moment before nodding. “Fair enough,” he said. 

The rest of the trip was silent, though Grover was fiddling with the hem of his shirt awkwardly from where he was sitting next to Percy. Percy elbowed him and sent him a small smile. The tension in Grover’s spine unspooled and he sent back a shaky smile of his own. 

Argus dropped them off at a Greyhound Station that was actually pretty close to the Jackson’s apartment. He helped them unload their bags from the van, making sure each of them had their bus tickets, before saluting Percy, the eye on the palm of his hand winking at him. He then drove away. 

Hanging from a mailbox near the bus station was a poster that displayed Percy’s most recent school photo, displaying the words HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? 

Percy’s jaw tensed as he reached out and ripped it down, shoving the soggy paper into a nearby trash can. Percy thought about how on a normal day, his māmā would be home from work by now. Theía Dee might have even been there, acting as a guard between her and Gabe - who was probably playing poker right now, not missing his wife at all, feeling none of the pain Percy felt every time he thought about his māmā. 

Grover leaned against Percy, gazing in the direction he was staring. “Do you know why she married him, Perce?” 

Percy tore his eyes away from the street and turned to Grover with a scrunched up face. “Can you read my mind?” he asked, aghast at the thought. 

“Nah,” Grover said. “Just your emotions. I must have forgotten to tell you satyroi can do that. Anyways, you were thinking about your mom and stepdad, right?” 

Percy nodded, a knot in his throat. 

“Kala’i married Gabriel for you. You call him ‘Smelly Gabe’, but you don’t know the half of it, man. His aura is honestly disgusting. I can smell him from blocks away. You haven’t been near him in over two weeks and I can still smell traces of it on you.” 

Percy’s nose wrinkled. “Ugh! Why wouldn’t you tell me that before we left camp, back when I could take a shower?” 

Grover shook his head. “That’s a good thing, Perce. He smells so disgustingly human that it masks your innate divinity. I’ve known since I caught a whiff of the inside of his Camaro; he’s been covering your scent since he showed up in your life. If you hadn’t been spending every summer around him, the Terrors would have found you a long time ago. Your mom’s a smart lady, she kept him around so she could keep you around. She loved you so much, enough to put up with that guy this whole time - hopefully that makes you feel better about him.” 

It didn’t. It really, really didn’t. 

Instead, it made ice form in the pit of Percy’s stomach. Everything he’d put up with for years to protect his māmā, had been because he’s a demigod. 

Unbidden, a memory made its way into the front of Percy’s psyche. 

“Hey pipsqueak! Get your ass in here!” Gabe yelled from the living room. 

Five year old Percy pouted from where he sat on the floor in his bedroom, surrounded by plushies of various sea animals. He was playing his favorite game with them, where he pretended to be the King of the Ocean and they were his dutiful court, who helped him find traitors. He didn’t want to stop playing. So he decided to ignore his māmā’s boyfriend. It’s not like Gabe was his real dad, he wasn’t in charge of him. 

Suddenly, the floor shook as Gabe appeared in his doorway, his expression thunderous. “Hey, shithead! I know you’re fucking retarded, but you’re not fucking deaf! When I call you, you fucking come, got it?” 

Percy felt himself begin to shrink back, before remembering he was his māmā’s brave boy, and forcing himself to straighten up. “You not my dad, I don’t have to listen to you!” he shouted back. 

Gabe growled as he reached down and grabbed Percy’s skinny arm in a bruising grip. “Listen here you little shit,” he growled. “You do what I say, understand? I’m the man of the fucking house now and I’m fucking happy I’m not your dad because that would mean I created a worthless little bitch.” 

Percy felt tears well in his eyes as he tried to pull away. “Lemme go!” he cried. “That hurts!” 

In the next moment, Gabe’s meaty hand flew forward and he backhanded Percy to the ground, letting go of his arm as he did so. “You gonna start listening to me, or I’m gonna have to tell your dumb mommy what a shithead you are. Do you want your mom to hate you?” 

Percy’s māmā could never hate him. Percy knew that. But he also could already see how tired she was all the time. He tried to be a good boy, so she’d smile more. He didn’t want smelly Gabe to make māmā sad, so with tears streaming down his face, he shook his head. 

Gabe huffed as he stood up. “Good. Now get me a fucking beer. And stop crying, you little pussy. You’re not a fucking girl.” 

Percy clenched his eyes shut at the memory, forcing his breathing to stay calm. When he opened them, he saw Grover staring at him with concern clear in his eyes. Percy shook his head and sent him a weary smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he said quietly. “I’m fine.” 

He needed to focus on his real reason for agreeing to this stupid quest. He didn’t care about Zeus’s temper tantrum or his patriós’s pride. He cared about saving his māmā - so that’s what he was going to do. 

Around them, the rain kept beating down. 

They distracted themselves from the wait for the bus by playing Hacky Sack with an apple that Annabeth pulled out of her bag. 

Percy was reluctantly impressed by how deft she was at it, bouncing the apple of her knees, elbows, thighs, and shoulders. He managed to keep up with her with some difficulty. 

The game ended abruptly when Percy passed the apple to Grover and he somehow managed to eat the whole thing in one bite - core and all. 

Grover stared at them with wide eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to apologize before Annabeth burst into laughter, prompting Percy to crack up as well. 

Eventually, their bus showed up and they all quickly boarded it, making sure to sit together. 

Percy sat in the aisle seat, clinging to his backpack with Ash’s earlier words ringing in his ears. Annabeth slapped her Yankees hat against her thigh. Grover’s nose kept twitching as his eyes darted around. Probably, none of them could explain why they felt so suddenly anxious. That was answered as the last few passengers got onto the bus, three old ladies shambling their way into three empty seats. 

Annabeth grabbed Percy’s knee. “Those aren’t - ” 

But they were. Ancient and withering away, Ms. Dodds sat at the front of the bus, wearing a red crushed velvet dress that had seen better days, with an acid green knit hat that hid her cruel black eyes behind shadows, clutching at a huge paisley bag with gnarled, lace-covered hands. Next to her were two identical women, one in purple and red, the other in green and purple. Malice seeped into the air surrounding them. 

They sat at the front of the bus, the two in aisle seats crossing their legs over the walkway, making a clear statement that no one was getting off the bus.

“How?” Percy hissed to his companions. “I killed her, I did! I watched her turn to ash in front of me!”  

Annabeth shot him an irritated look. “Well, she wasn’t gonna stay dead, was she? Má tón Theoí, how can one person be so unlucky and so stupid?” 

“What the fuck does that mean, Owl-head?” Percy snapped. 

“Monsters don’t stay dead, dumbass! They always reform, but usually it takes lifetimes! Not mere months,” Annabeth responded. “Clearly, the three sisters hate you.” 

“All three of them,” Grover whimpered. “Má tón Pán, we’re so screwed.” 

“No, no, we’re not,” Annabeth said with forced calm. “It’s fine, it’s just the Eumenides. Just three of the deadliest underworld goddesses. We just gotta - slip through the windows!” 

“They don’t open,” Grover said, misery coating every word. 

“The back exit?” she suggested. 

There wasn’t one. But it wouldn’t have helped if there was one, anyways. They were already almost in the Lincoln Tunnel. 

“They’re not gonna attack us in front of all these witnesses. Ms. Dodds made sure I was alone before she attacked me in the museum,” Percy reasoned. 

“That was because she wanted to kill you without catching Kheiron’s attention. The mortals won’t notice enough and we can’t rely on them for help anyways,” Annabeth said. 

In that moment, Ms. Dodds rose and announced in a flat, rehearsed tone, “I need to use the restroom.” 

“As do I,” her sisters intoned. 

“Okay, I have an idea,” Annabeth said. “Percy, take my cap.” 

“What?” Percy asked. “I know it turns you invisible but what will that do if they can smell us?” 

Annabeth flapped a hand at him. “It does more than hide you from sight, dumbass. It dampens your scent too, it’ll confuse them. They want you, anyways, not us. Maybe if you get to the front and escape, they won’t notice us. You’re a son of one of the Goddess-Queens, your scent must be way stronger than either of ours.” 

“But, I can’t leave you guys - ” 

“Yes, you can!” Grover said. “You have to. Just go, Perce.” 

With guilt settling into his stomach, Percy reluctantly put the hat on his head, instantly vanishing from sight. He slung his bag over his shoulders and pulled Anaklusmos out of his pocket, anxiously holding it in a sweaty hand. He creeped up the aisle and as he approached the terrifying goddesses, he ducked into an empty seat so they could pass by. 

Ms. Dodds stopped, inhaling deeply as she turned to stare directly at Percy. He froze, his heart racing. After a moment of tense stillness, she moved on, her sisters following behind her. 

Percy ran to the front of the bus, keeping his footsteps as silent as they’d ever been, calling on all of his training he got through hiding from Gabe. They were almost through the Lincoln Tunnel; Percy reached out to hit the emergency stop button when a horrific screech rang through the bus. 

The three old women had transformed into their truer forms. Their faces stayed the same, but wings burst free from their shriveling bodies, and snakes erupted from their hair. Their bags had become fiery whips gripped in clawed hands. 

They surrounded Grover and Annabeth, lashing their whips while hissing, “Where is it?” 

“He isn’t here!” Annabeth yelled, cringing back away from them. “He’s gone!” 

Around them, the mortals cowered into their seats, screaming with terror. Percy wasn’t sure what they saw, but evidently it was horrifying. 

The Furies raised their whips. Annabeth drew a bronze dagger from her jacket. Grover shakily held up his fists. 

Percy cursed and reached out to grab the driver’s wheel, jerking it to the left. 

“What the fuck?!” the driver shouted, fighting to regain control of it even as everyone was flung into the walls. Percy wrestled with the driver, causing the bus to slam into the wall of the Tunnel, scraping metal with a painful screech. 

They barreled out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the storm, hurtling out of control and towards the Hudson River. 

Percy lunged forward and hit the emergency brake. The bus swung in a circle, slamming into trees instead of launching into the river. The doors swung open and Percy jumped to the side, to avoid the stampede of mortals desperate to escape. He could’ve escaped too, but he was never going to leave his companions behind. 

He ripped Annabeth’s hat off his head and yelled, “Hey!” 

The Furies immediately turned, baring their huge fangs as their eyes glowed with hatred. “There you are, honey!” Ms. Dodds screamed. 

She stalked forward down the bus, flicking her whip and causing red flames to dance around the leather. “You have offended the gods, Perseus Jackson,” she growled, her accent deepening into something that caused dread to twine its way through Percy’s nervous system. “You shall die for your crimes.” 

“You were scarier as a math teacher,” Percy spat. 

She snarled, lunging forward. 

Percy whipped the lid off Anaklusmos, the sword rippling into existing, casting a deep blue-ish green sheen over the bus. 

Ms. Dodds recoiled back, clearly remembering the sting of the blade and unwilling to experience it again. 

“If you submit, you will suffer less,” she crooned. 

“Oh, since when have I ever listened to you?” Percy asked. 

Annabeth called out, “Percy, on your left!” 

Ms. Dodds lashed her whip at Percy’s sword hand while her sisters lunged at him. 

Percy’s hand erupted in pain, but he managed to cling to Anaklusmos. He slammed its hilt into the sister on the left’s temple, causing her to fall into the seats behind her, before slashing the blade through the neck of the sister on the right. She screamed as she dissolved into dust. 

Annabeth jumped onto Ms. Dodds’s back, wrapping her arms around her neck and pulling her back, while Grover grabbed her wrist, causing her to drop her whip. 

The Fury that Percy had hit before tried to attack again, but Percy stabbed her before she could, causing her to disintegrate too. 

Ms. Dodds had been entangled by her own whip, Annabeth and Grover standing over her with weak but victorious smiles. 

“Zeus will smite you! Hades will have you within his domain!” she howled. 

“Vapula! Vapules!” Percy snapped. He wasn’t sure why he’d landed on a Latin insult, but it felt right. He’d told her to go whip herself. 

Thunder chose that moment to shake the bus. Percy’s eyes widened. 

“Get out!” Annabeth yelled. “Now!” 

For once, Percy had no problem with not arguing. They rushed off the bus, leaving Ms. Dodds behind to rejoin the passengers of their doomed bus ride, who were still panicking. One of them snapped a picture of Percy and he jumped off the bus. 

Lightning hit the metal transport as soon as they cleared it, causing it to explode with impunity. 

“Wait - our bags!” Grover yelled. 

“It doesn’t matter, run!” Annabeth shouted. “She’s not dead yet and can still call for reinforcements!” 

As they ran into the forest, Percy heard Ms. Dodds wailing wrathfully behind them, proving Annabeth right. 

Chapter Text

Percy wasn’t necessarily someone who held grudges. It just wasn’t how he was built. His māmā told him that when he was a baby, he was way too friendly with strangers, always greeting everyone with a bright smile and open arms. 

But the world had a way of beating that kind of behavior out of you, especially when you’re a little black boy whose main coping mechanism was sarcasm. Especially when the first monster you ever dealt with was one in your home. 

Still, Percy was someone who trusted easily and who was endlessly loyal to the people in his life - until they broke that trust. He didn’t hold grudges, but once you lost his trust it was almost impossible to get it back. 

And between his friends’ treatment by their parents and what he himself was already dealing with - he definitely didn’t trust the gods. 

But there was one nice thing about knowing for sure that they existed - when things went wrong, you knew who to blame. 

For example: when a trio of underworld goddesses who specialized in torture attacked you, an errant lightning strike hit the bus you were riding on, and it was storming while you hiked your way through a forest at night - you knew it was because Hades and Zeus were pissed at you, specifically, and were doing their damndest to make your life harder. Even though you were on a quest to fix things for Zeus. Awesome, right? 

Let’s set the scene: Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were trekking down a riverbank in the New Jersey woods with the glow of New York City fading behind them and the stench of the Hudson River invading their nostrils. 

Grover appeared to be in shock, his trembling arms wrapped around his torso as he stared into the distance. “All three of the Eumenides, at once. All of the Lord of the Underworld’s torturers coming after us. How did we manage to escape?” he mumbled to himself. 

Percy wasn’t faring much better. All he could think of was how if they’d been a minute slower, they’d have all died in the explosion. Luckily, Annabeth made sure they kept moving, a hand gripping each of their wrists and yanking them forwards. 

“It doesn’t matter how we escaped, just that we did,” she snapped. “And the Unseen One’s minions being sent after us just means that we’re on the right track.” 

“Does it?” Percy asked. “Because the King of Paranoia seems to have sent a lightning bolt our way at the same time and I don’t think it was to help us out.” 

Annabeth looked back at him, her stormy eyes troubled. “Basileus isn’t the type to want a war,” she said. “Your death after being claimed by your theîos métēr would be an automatic call to war. There is no way the King of the Seas would be calm over the disrespect to his wife, no matter how he may feel over your existence. The Thalassic court is known for their protection of their own, from what I’ve heard. You may be a bastard son of the Queen, but you’re still the son of their Queen. 

“I just don’t understand why he’d try and kill you right now, especially when you’re on a quest to reclaim his symbol of power.” 

Percy’s jaw tightened at the reminder of the drama he’d been entrenched in just because of who his métēr was. He imagined it would be a hundred times worse if anyone ever found out he had a theîos patér as well; he’d aggressively been ignoring that fact, deciding not to even try to figure out who it could be. All that mattered right now was saving his māmā and stopping World War III. 

“We lost all of our bags,” Grover moaned. 

Percy shook his head. “No, we didn’t. I still have mine and my friends made sure I’d have the necessities in it.” 

Annabeth stopped and turned to him, a blonde eyebrow arched. “Really?” she asked, intrigued. “What’d they give you?” 

“Enough money for me to get to LA and back, plus some for food, a hundred drachmae, plus néktar and ambrosia. Also some clothes to change into over the course of the week.” 

Annabeth hummed before she started walking again, releasing their wrists as she did so. “That’s good. We’ll have to figure out how Grover and I’ll get tickets for transportation but that’s easier than if we had to do it for all three of us. I assume Luke got it together for you?” 

“Actually, I think it was mostly Ash, though I’m sure Luke and my other friends helped,” Percy said. 

“Ash, really? Well, I guess that makes sense. She’s been Luke’s second in command ever since he got back from his quest, with - never mind,” Annabeth cut herself off. “Let’s hurry up and try to find a place to stop for the night, maybe find some food.” 

They hiked through the words in silence for a while, before Annabeth asked, “Okay, I have to ask. Why the hell’d you come back, Jackson? You could’ve escaped without us, like I told you to, but you came back, putting yourself in more danger.” 

“I was never going to abandon you guys to the demon grandmothers,” Percy said, rolling his eyes. 

“I don’t need you to protect me. I would’ve been fine.” 

“On fire after being whipped to death, but fine,” Grover said. 

Annabeth flipped him off. “Shut up, goat boy.” 

They trekked in silence through the muddy ground, narrowly avoiding twisting branches that threatened to whip against their faces. 

Eventually, Annabeth spoke without turning back to look at him, her voice soft, “Look - thank you for coming back. I didn’t expect you to. You don’t like me.” 

“It doesn’t matter whether I like you or not. We’re a team,” Percy said, his tone deathly serious. 

“Yeah, well. It was still really brave of you. But if you’d died…it would’ve been so bad. Your patríos could’ve used your death to start the war and also…it would’ve meant the quest was over. I’d never have another chance to leave camp.” 

Next to him, Grover inhaled sharply through his nose. 

For a long moment, Percy didn’t say anything. Around them, the rain lessened. In the darkness, Percy couldn’t see much of his companions. 

“I’m gonna choose to ignore the fact that you just focused on how much my death would suck for you,” Percy finally said, “because I don’t actually think you’re a bad person. But you seem determined to prove that wrong.” 

Annabeth stopped in her tracks and spun around, her gray eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Wait - no! I just - gods damn it. I didn’t mean it like that,” she insisted, her voice hoarse. “You don’t get it, but I haven’t left the Haven since I was seven, Percy. I ran away from my home because I didn’t fit right there but I don’t fit at camp either. My dad is a history professor and his wife is a stay at home mom. But she was never my mom. Once I got to the Haven, I was stuck there for five years, with no chance to get into the real world. To figure out who I am and prove that I’m not just smart, I’m as good as everyone else.” 

Percy worried at his lower lip for a moment before inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. “You’re kinda shit at expressing yourself, Annabeth. But I get it. Kind of. And, look, you held your own against the Eumenides.” 

Annabeth blinked, her features obscured in the shadows of the night. “Barely. You’ve managed to kill three of them, I could barely hold my own against one with Grover’s help.” 

“You jumped on her back and saved my fucking life,” Percy said. “That’s pretty badass.” 

He couldn’t see her, but Percy was pretty sure Annabeth smiled at that. 

“You know,” she began. “On the bus…I noticed something kind of weird - ” 

She was cut off by the shrill sound of Grover’s attempt at playing his reed pipes. The shrieking noise almost made Percy jump out of his skin. 

“Hey!” Grover said cheerfully. “My reed pipes still work!” 

Nothing happened when he attempted to play a ‘find path’ song, other than Percy running face-first into a tree. 

Look, he may be better at seeing in the dark than most, but it still wasn’t easy. 

They stumbled through woods for another mile or so, sinking into the mud, tripping over tree roots, and just having a pretty terrible time before they saw any signs of civilization. Eventually though, Percy saw neon lights in the distance. As they got closer, he could even smell food - disgusting fried food his theía would have a conniption over him eating. It caused him to realize that he hadn’t eaten in hours, not since they’d left Ìmitheos Katafýgio. The food they served there was exactly the kind his theía had always harped on him to eat: health-nut stuff like fruits, veggies, bread, and the lean kind of meat. Percy would’ve killed someone for a bacon cheeseburger at this point, the kind he and his māmā would sneak behind Theía Dee’s back, even though he was pretty sure she’d always known. 

Eventually, they reached a mostly abandoned road. On one side of it was a shut-down gas station and a fucked up looking billboard for a movie from the 90s. On the other side was an open business, which was where the light and delicious smell originated from. 

It unfortunately wasn’t a fast-food place. Instead, it appeared to be one of those tourist traps that sold the weirdest and oftentimes most racist things you’d ever seen in your life. It  was a long warehouse surrounded by eerie statuary, with a glowing red sign displaying cursive, red neon words that Percy wasn’t even going to attempt to read. 

“It says Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium,” Grover said quietly. “Guys, I don’t think we should stop here. Something smells…weird. Weird and bad.” 

Percy and Annabeth made eye contact over his head, neither noticing how dazed the other looked. “We need food, Grover,” Annabeth said dreamily. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah, what Annabeth said,” Percy said with a faint smile curving his full lips upwards. 

Grover looked at them, concerned, but didn’t argue as they made their way to the store. 

The front lot was full of statues of animals, children, and even one satyr playing a set of reed pipes that gave Grover the creeps. 

“That looks like my Uncle Ferdinand,” he bleated. 

Percy and Annabeth ignored him as they made their way to the front door. 

The door creaked open as soon as they stood before it, revealing a woman in a long, gauzy black dress that fell to her ankles and covered her arms to her wrists, on top of it she was wearing a tegidion, a veil that completely covered her head and face. Around her wrists, she wore silver bracelets shaped like twining snakes. Her hands were long, slender, and pale with elegantly manicured stiletto nails. Under her thin kalyptra, her eyes gleamed brightly. 

“Hello darlings,” she said, her voice throaty and heavily accented. “I’m Aunty Em. What are you doing here so late in the night, all alone?” 

“Um….” Annabeth started, just for Percy to cut her off. 

“We’re on our way to California right now, but our car broke down,” he said. “We were sent to look for food, we haven’t eaten since this morning.” 

“You poor dears,” Aunty Em cooed. “Please, come inside. Go straight to the back of the warehouse, you will find a dining area.” 

They thanked her and went inside, Grover trailing behind them. 

“That was pretty clever,” Annabeth whispered. 

Percy shot her a crooked smile. “You’re not the only one with a brain, Owlet,” he teased. She rolled her eyes but smiled back at him. 

Besides that moment of clarity, it was like fog had twisted its way into their minds. The two demigods drifted their way through the building, ignoring the hundreds of statues around them that seemed to follow them with their eyes. 

Grover whimpered. 

The dining area was a preteen’s paradise. Percy could see a grill, a soda fountain, and even a nacho cheese dispenser, surrounded by steel picnic tables for them to sit at. 

“We don’t have a lot of money, ma’am,” Grover muttered. 

Aunty Em fluttered a hand about, her bronze nails glowing under the fluorescent lights. “Oh, no, don’t worry about that, dearest. I could never ask for payment from children, consider this a gift.” 

Percy smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said. 

The woman set a hand on his shoulder, her nails digging lightly into it. “Of course, Perseus,” she said sweetly. “Now, I will be back with your food.” 

Percy didn’t protest the use of his full first name, or even consider how she knew it. 

When she came back, she brought with her plastic trays heaping with the kind of food Percy dreamed about: bacon cheeseburgers, huge servings of french fries, and a couple of shakes: vanilla for Grover, chocolate for Annabeth, and blueberry for Percy. 

“Enjoy,” Aunty Em said. 

Without thought, Percy and Annabeth dug in. Percy was almost done with his burger before he remembered that breathing was a necessity for him. Annabeth chugged her shake. Grover picked at his fries and eyed the paper the food was sitting on as if it was the more appetizing option. 

“Does anybody else hear hissing?” Grover asked. 

Percy tilted his head to the side, trying to hear what Grover was talking about, but there was nothing. He shrugged before returning his attention to the delicious burger in his hands. 

“Hissing?” Aunty Em asked, giggling. “No, dear Grover, I don’t hear hissing. Maybe it’s the deep-fryer? If so, you have a rather keen ear.” 

Grover stared at her silently for a moment. “Yeah,” he said. “I take vitamins. For my ears.” 

“How admirable! But please, darling, try and relax. Be a good guest.” 

Grover startled, swallowing hard. “Of - of course,” he mumbled. “Sorry, ma’am.” 

“No reason to apologize, dearest. Just make sure to remember how important the rules of hospitality are. You wouldn’t want to offend your host, would you?” 

Grover paled, his back straightening, before he ducked his head down. “Of course not, ma’am,” he said quietly. 

Aunty Em set her hands on the table and inclined her head. “Excellent.” 

Annabeth chose that moment to interject. “So…do you get a lot of business out here?” 

Aunty Em sighed. “Not especially, Anna. Ever since the highway was built, less and less customers have been coming my way. I’ve learned to treasure the ones I do get.” 

Percy swallowed. Now that he had food in his stomach, he noticed a tension around him that he’d been previously oblivious to. When he glanced over at Annabeth, he noticed that her normally analytical gaze was soft and unfocused while her full lips were curved into a dreamy smile. His eyes flitted over to Grover, who sat unnaturally still, his posture tense and unhappy. 

“Do you make all the statues yourself?” Percy asked hesitantly, trying to center himself. 

Aunty Em clasped her hands together excitedly. “I do! Once, I had my sisters to help me, but they’re long since gone. Now, I do so alone. My only company now are my darling creations.” 

Annabeth’s attention was caught; her eyes sharpened. “Two sisters?” she asked, leaning forward. 

Em nodded mournfully. “It is a tragic tale and not one I would tell to children. But, I once had…a suitor and his attentions made my patroness rage with indignation. She punished me, cast me out, because of how he sought my virtues. My sisters stood by my side but alas they eventually faded away, leaving me to survive alone. But my survival has a great, terrible price to it.” 

Percy felt shock ricochet through his system and he sat up straight, his mouth opening to say, “You’re Medusa.” 

Aunty Em - no, Medusa - linked her fingers together as she lounged gracefully on the picnic bench. “Oh, you’re a clever one. Yes, I am.” 

“Why haven’t you attacked us?” Annabeth asked, her jaw tense, the magic that had clouded their senses finally dissipated. “You had us under your spell, we wouldn’t have been able to stop you.” 

“Also,” Percy interjected. “That’s not the original myth, that’s the version Ovid created. Glaukópis had nothing to do with you being a Gorgon, you were born that way.” 

Medusa laughed and Percy noticed something shifting under her kalyptra. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up as he realized that must’ve been her famous snake hair. “Two things, darling boy. One, myths are not a monolith, nor are they always necessarily the true story. Myths change and evolve and archetypes, such as myself, change and evolve with them. But you are correct, I am not the version of myself that originally existed, I have the memories of the later tale.” 

She took a deep breath. “Second, I haven’t attacked you because it would violate the sacred laws of hospitium. While my people did not treat them as indiscriminately as the Graeci, it was still important that if someone came into your home, you treat them with respect. This form may be an archetype now, but it wasn’t always one and I would not wish for your Divi to decide to punish me once more.” 

“But you had us under your spell!” Annabeth protested. “You were clearly planning to turn us to stone.” 

Medusa’s voice was cold as she responded. “You do not know my plans, little girl. Now, tell me what is truly happening and I will decide how this visit will go.” 

“The King of Olympos’s symbol of power was stolen. He thinks it was me, because my métēr claimed me pretty quickly after I got to camp and because I was in the city when it was stolen. We’re trying to find the actual thief and return it to him,” Percy said. 

Medusa turned to gaze at him. “Who is your mother, child?” she asked, her tone warming. 

“Queen Amphitrite, ma’am.” 

Medusa waved a hand, her bronze nails once again gleaming in the light. “No need to call me ma’am,” she said. “Feel free to continue to call me Aunty, sweet boy.” 

There was a moment of silence before she nodded. “So you too are a victim of the Divi,” she said. “I will not fight you.” 

“You won’t?!” Annabeth exclaimed. 

“No, I will not, Anna Elisabet Chase,” Medusa said icily. “I hold no love for the Divi and even less for your damned mother, but I know what it is like to be a victim of their machinations and I have grown over the centuries - my rage no longer controls me as it once did. I will instead provide my assistance and offer you, young Perseus, my hand in allyship - if you need my help and I can provide it, you need only ask for it.” 

Percy felt frozen into place. “Thank you, Aunty,” he eventually said. “You’re very generous. But…if you’re the Roman version of Medusa…shouldn’t you hate me? For what my patriós did to you? Actually, what about what my namesake did to you?” 

Medusa snorted. “It is brave of you to mention that when I am being so kind,” she said dryly. “But you are not at fault for the actions of your step-father. I will not punish you for them any more than I will punish little Anna here for the atrocity her mother committed against me.” 

Annabeth glared at Medusa, but wisely chose to keep her mouth shut. 

“As for your namesake, while I would have gladly killed him at the time, I have since learned why he killed me. And whilst I still do not appreciate dying at his hands, it is not like you can keep an archetype dead for long. And I can appreciate a young man trying to protect his mother,” Medusa added. 

“Now, how can I be of assistance, little herolings?” Medusa crooned. 

Percy thought about it for a moment. “Do you have any mortal money? We need to get across the country and I only have enough cash to cover tickets for myself.” 

Medusa chuckled lightly. “Oh, dear one, I have plenty of mortal money from my victims over the years. Is there anything else you need?” 

Percy felt sick to his stomach at the idea of taking money that Medusa had gotten from the people she’d killed, but he didn’t want to have to fight her and they couldn’t afford to refuse the money. From the corner of his eye, he looked at the statue of a young boy, his face twisted with terror. He bowed his head. “Thank you, Aunty,” he said, “but no. That’s all we need.” 

Medusa reached out and set her hand on top of his head, her long nails scraping against his skin. “Very well, dear boy,” she said. “Remember, if you seek help in the future, you need only ask.” 

Chapter Text

Annabeth ripped into Percy the second they left Medusa’s lair. “How could you do that, dumbass?” she snapped. “Medusa is a monster and you let her live! Heroes kill monsters!” 

“No, Medousa is a monster. Medusa was a victim of my patriós and your métēr.” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter what set of myths you look at,” she argued. “Medousa was born a monster, yes, but Medusa chose to kill people after my métēr transformed her. She isn’t innocent just because she has a tragic backstory. Us leaving her alive gives her the chance to kill again!” 

Percy whirled on her. “We are not judge, jury, and executioner, Annabeth! We don’t get to decide who lives and dies. I’m not thrilled about how that went either, but we survived it and now have an incredibly powerful ally who helped us out!” 

Annabeth sneered at him. “You’re a fool, Jackson. We trained to fight and kill monsters and you just let one go free.” 

“No, you trained, wise-ass. I was at the Haven for two weeks and spent three of those days unconscious after fighting the starry bull! Forgive me for not wanting to fight another ancient fucking archetype when I’ve only known who my métēr was for nine days!” Percy snapped. 

“So, you’re a fucking coward,” Annabeth snarled. 

Grover jumped in at that, “Both of you need to calm down! Everything about that was terrible and on top of it all, I now know what happened to my Uncle Ferdinand, so I really don’t want to deal with you guys arguing after that! We’re going to find a place to camp for the night and go to sleep and we’ll talk about this in the morning, once we’ve had time to calm down.” 

Percy inhaled sharply, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to relax his shaking fists. “Grover’s right,” he said hoarsely. “We’ll talk about all of this in the morning. Maybe then you’ll let me say my piece.” 

They quickly found an empty area about half a mile from the main road that was full of litter, but was cleared out enough to give them room to set up. 

Medusa had given them some supplies aside from cash; she gave them food to eat when they woke up and blankets to sleep on. The trio spread them out on the ground and quickly agreed to sleep in shifts, though Annabeth refused to speak to Percy directly, going through Grover instead. 

Percy was chosen to take first watch and watched as Annabeth immediately passed out as soon as her head hit the ground. 

Grover settled down next to him, staring up at the sky with a mournful expression. 

“Go to sleep, G-man,” Percy said softly. “It’s been a long day.” 

Grover hummed in agreement but didn’t close his eyes. “Being out here…it makes me sad, Perce.” 

“What, that you have to deal with me?” 

Grover rolled his eyes. “Shut up, man. No, that makes me sad.” He waved his arm, encompassing the litter scattered across the ground and the deeply polluted sky. “You can’t even see the stars anymore. I’m a nature spirit, man, but nature barely exists anymore.” 

Percy crossed his arms over his knees, resting his chin on them. “I get that,” he said. “My theía…loves nature, loves everything about plants and stuff like that. Her and my māmā raised me to treat it with respect. I’ve always been pretty horrified by littering and pollution, especially in the sea. When I learned about the plastic island…I was so disgusted.” 

Grover smiled, though there was no joy to it. “See, this is why you’re my best friend. You get it. It’s just that…it all feels so hopeless. How will I ever find Pán, when the wild has been forsaken by humans?” 

“Pán?” Percy said. “He was the godly satyr, right? The god of the wild?” 

Grover nodded. “Yeah, he was the father of my ancestors. He disappeared two thousand years ago. It is said that a sailor named Thamus heard a mysterious voice say ‘Apángeilon óti Pán o mégas téthnike’. Once humans heard this, they believed it, and they’ve been ransacking his kingdom ever since. Satyroi have never been willing to accept that our Father would die like that though, the theoi don’t just die. They fade once their worship has disappeared, but we have always worshipped him as he has always protected us. Every generation, the bravest satyroi have sworn to search tirelessly for him. They search desperately for him in the most ancient pockets of the wild left over. They become Agriós Fýlax.” 

“You want to be one of them,” Percy guessed. “That’s the big dream of yours Kheiron mentioned.” 

Grover shuddered. “It’s my life’s purpose, Perce. My dad was one. My Uncle Ferdinand….” 

“The statue in Medusa’s lair,” Percy whispered. “I’m so sorry, Grover.” 

Grover shook his head. “No, he knew the risks. So did my dad. But I’m gonna be the one to succeed. I’ll be the first Agriós Fýlax to return, because I’ll be the one to find Pán.” 

“The first?” 

Grover buried his face in his hands. “Agriós Fýlax do not survive. It is their life’s mission to find Pán and until one succeeds, they will all disappear, never to be seen again.” 

“They’ve all died? Not one has survived in two thousand years?” 

Grover nodded. “Not once.” 

“But, your dad - ” 

Grover looked up at Percy, tears welling in his eyes. “I haven’t seen him in twenty years. I’m an orphan.” 

“Your mom too?” 

Grover closed his eyes. “She was a hamadryas outside of the Haven. Her tree died fifteen years ago and she died with it. My aunt has been raising me ever since, with help from Kheiron and Lord D. If it weren’t for them…I’d be alone.” 

Percy frowned and bumped their shoulders together. “You’re not alone, man. You have me.” 

Grover’s answering smile was weak. “Thanks,” he whispered. 

“So, you want to be an Agriós Fýlax even though every single one has died in the last two thousand years?” Percy asked, staring down at his hands. 

“I have to believe that I’ll be the one to find him. All satyroi do. Because how else are we supposed to continue on without that hope, when humans are ruining his domain?” 

Percy reached over and set his hand on Grover’s shoulder. “I get it,” he said. 

Grover shuddered under his hand. “Off topic but…don’t take what Annabeth said too personally, man. She’s all bark with almost no bite and…she hasn’t exactly had it easy.” 

Percy dropped his hand, snorting. “Has any demigod? She’s not special.” 

“Look, I get where you’re coming from. But she’s a good person, underneath her attitude. She forgave me for - ” Grover cut himself off, staring down at his hands. 

“After what?” Percy asked. 

“I…I’m not ready to talk about that. But, please believe me. Annabeth isn’t really how she presents herself. She cares about people, too much really. She just has a talent for always saying the wrong thing at the worst moment.” 

Percy sighed. “I feel like this is my millionth time saying this, but I don’t hate Annabeth. I just don’t like the way she always thinks she knows best or how she doesn’t seem to think people are actually, you know, people, not chess pieces she can direct however she wants.” 

“I get it, I just…I don’t know. I’ve known her since she was seven, you know? She’s not the same kid she was and she’s not the youngest at the Haven anymore, but I think those of us who were there when she first arrived are always kind of going to see the little kid she used to be. She’s like a little sister to me.” Grover blew a soft note into his pipe. 

Percy wrapped his arms around his legs and tucked his chin into his knees. “I’m not mad that you care about her, dude. You’ve known her a lot longer than you’ve known me, I’m just - ” he cut himself off, jealousy burning in his throat. Grover was his best friend, just like Luke was the first older guy he’d ever gotten to really know and trust. And to both of them, Annabeth was more important. It was ridiculous for him to feel this way, but that didn’t mean he could just stop the feeling. 

“You’re just my best friend,” Grover said softly. “I love Annabeth but I love you too, man.” 

Percy felt his cheeks burn. “Yeah. You too,” he said gruffly, hiding his face. 

Grover chuckled. “I’ll take the first watch,” he said. “You need to get some sleep.” 

“No, it’s fine, you should - ” Percy began. Grover ignored him and began to softly play Mozart on his pipes, lulling Percy into exhaustion. He felt his eyes grow heavy and his muscles relax; it didn’t take long for Hypnos to pull him under. 

Maybe another god should be added to Percy’s list of opps: Morpheus. Because when Percy began to dream, he found himself in an unlit cavern, standing before a yawning chasm, surrounded by wispy shades that whispered words he couldn’t hope to understand. 

The pit called to him without words, drawing him to its edge. When Percy looked down, vertigo hit him like a brick. He felt his stomach sink as he swayed lightly, resisting its almost gravitational pull. It was ravenous and Percy knew subconsciously that it had no end. The little hero, a dark voice cooed from its depths. So weak, so young, but with some help you could be perfect. 

There was a malicious amusement radiating from the voice. Percy had seen and heard many ancient things in the past few weeks but this presence felt older and unlike the Moirai or Pythia, he could feel the cruelty etched into its very existence. They have misled you, child. Barter with me and I will give you what you desire. 

An image appeared in front of Percy: his māmā, dissolving into gold as she stared at Percy, terror shining in her eyes, her mouth forming the word Go! 

Desperation ripped through Percy, he ached to reach out to her, but he was frozen in place. 

Cold laughter echoed around him. 

You want her back, hero? Then, help me rise! The gods are traitors, pretenders, they have done nothing for you or your ilk. Bring me the symbols of their false power and help me tear their thrones. 

Something seemed to wrap itself around Percy’s heart, trying to pull him forward into the pit. Unless he stood firm, he would be dragged into its depths. 

The shades’ words grew clear. No! Wake! 

The vision of Percy’s māmā began to dissipate. The unseen force gripping Percy’s heart tightened; with horror, Percy realized it wasn’t pulling him into its heart, but instead pulling itself out. 

Good, it crooned. You are doing so good. 

Wake! the dead breathed. Wake! 

Percy’s eyes flew open; he was being shaken awake. Above him, the sun shone. 

“Sleeping beauty awakens,” Annabeth said with an arched eyebrow. 

Percy breathed in, still trembling from leftover adrenaline and fear. He marveled at how loose his chest felt in the light of day. It hadn’t been real. 

“How long did I sleep for?” he asked. 

“Long enough,” Annabeth said. “Grover went exploring - a squirrel told him where we are. We ended up in New Jersey, but we’re only about a twenty minute walk from the Newark-Penn Amtrak station. We should be able to get train tickets to LA there. Medusa gave us about a thousand dollars - which is an insane sentence for me to say, by the way. Between that and what you have, that should be enough to get the three of us tickets to LA.” 

Percy breathed out in relief. “That’s good,” he said. “I’d hate to get on another bus.” 

Annabeth snorted. “Yeah,” she said. “Now, let’s go.” 

Chapter Text

The first day of their train trip to LA went surprisingly well. Percy didn’t say anything to jinx them this time and sure enough, they weren’t attacked even once. 

Still, Percy didn’t allow himself to relax. 

His name and picture was on display in every newspaper and on every station. Someone had managed to get a picture of him when they were fighting the Furies; his eyes were alight with panic and his sword was a blur in his hands, making it unclear what he was holding. 

The short article read: 

Missing person twelve-year-old Perseus Jackson has been sighted fleeing from a bus where he was seen accosting several elderly female passengers. Eyewitnesses state that after Perseus attacked the women, he began screaming about a bomb they had planted, leading to the bus being evacuated right before it exploded on an east New Jersey roadside. 

Jackson has been stated to be accompanied by two teenage accomplices. 

His stepfather, Gabriel Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information on his whereabouts. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Annabeth said, chewing on her lower lip. “There’s no way mortal police will catch us.” She ducked her head. 

Nervous energy raced through Percy, leading to him spending the day alternating between pacing through the train (the hood of his jacket over his head and covering his face) and staring out the window of their cabin, tapping on his leg. 

Now that he knew of the mythological world, it was surprising how much more he saw. 

One time, he watched a family of kentauroi galloping through the wheat field. The young kentaur caught Percy’s eyes and gleefully waved at him. 

Later in the day, minutes from nightfall, he glimpsed a lion moving through the woods, at least twice the size it should have been. Its fur glinted gold in the dying sunlight before it leaped through the trees, disappearing from sight. 

Between the money Medusa and Ash had provided them, they had more than enough to purchase three tickets to LA, though it wasn’t quite enough to get a sleeper cabin if they wanted enough money for food during their journey. Instead, they dozed in their seats, ignoring the way it made the muscles in their necks stiffen. 

Percy’s dreams were more of the same: a dark voice trying to tempt Percy away from the gods that he already held little loyalty for, in a way that would never actually work. 

When Percy startled awake after the most recent one, gasping for air, he met Annabeth’s scrutinizing gaze. “So, who needs your help?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. 

Percy sucked on his teeth, looking away. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said quietly. 

“Yes, you do,” Annabeth stated, her voice hard. “Who are you dreaming about, Jackson?” 

Percy didn’t want to answer. He didn’t owe Annabeth anything and he didn’t like the way she demanded answers from him. But…he kept dreaming of that malicious voice speaking to him from the depths. He felt like he should know who it was, but the name was eluding him, so he finally caved and explained his dreams to her. 

Annabeth was silent for a long moment. “You shouldn’t have kept that to yourself for so long,” she finally said. “Demigod dreams mean something, especially when we’re doing the bidding of the deathless ones. And the thing is…that doesn’t sound like Aidoneus. He sits on a black throne and he is not known to laugh.” 

“But he offered my māmā back if I helped him. Who else could it be?” 

Annabeth tapped her slender fingers against the seat. “He asked you to help him rise from the Underworld if you gave him the King’s symbol of power? Aidoneus isn’t bound to his realm, he can leave it if he wishes. And why would he need you to bring him the symbol if he’s the one who stole it?” 

Percy shrugged, glancing at her out of the corner of her eyes. Her blonde eyebrows were furrowed in thought. “I don’t know,” he said. 

Annabeth bit her lower lip. “You know…Grover and I were thinking and…when the Eumenides attacked us, they weren’t asking ‘where is he’, they asked ‘where is it’. What if…the traitor lost the King’s symbol when he was sent to retrieve it? What if we’re walking right into the Unseen King’s plan by seeking him out?” 

Percy shrunk into himself, staring at Grover. The satyr grumbled about food in his sleep, before turning his head away from them. 

Annabeth sighed. “Percy, listen. You can’t trust Aidoneus. He’s heartless, cruel for the sake of being cruel. It doesn’t matter that the Eumenides weren’t as vicious this time - ” 

Percy’s head shot up. “This time?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “You’ve met them before?” 

Annabeth’s hands clenched at her seat on either side of her, her knuckles paling, her eyes had a lost quality to them. “That’s none of your business,” she snapped. “All that matters is that I know you can’t trust the Unseen King, no matter how honey-coated his words may be. Don’t you dare make a deal with him for your mortal mother.” 

“What would you do if it was your father?” Percy asked desperately, fighting back against the tears threatening to well up in his eyes. 

“Easy,” Annabeth spit. “I’d leave him to rot.” 

Percy froze. “You…what?” he asked, lost. 

Annabeth stared at him, a fierce light in her stormy eyes. “There is no love lost between me and my mortal family, Jackson,” she said. “My father has resented me since the day I was born. He didn’t want a baby; when he got me, he asked métēr to raise me on Olympos, and said he was too busy for me. She didn’t like that - she told him that heroes had always been raised by their mortal parents.” 

“You - wait, Ash told me your métēr had children in the same way she was born, so you weren’t born in a hospital - ” 

“Métēr had the West Wind deliver me from Olympos to his doorstep in a golden cradle. You’d think he would’ve seen that as a miracle, would’ve seen me as the gift métēr intended me to be, right? But, no, anytime he spoke of it, he spoke as if it had all been an inconvenience to him. 

“And, you know, I might have been fine with all of that if he was consistent. But, no, he got married when I was five, to a mortal woman, and had two mortal children with her. Turns out it wasn’t that he didn’t want a baby, he just didn’t want me.” 

Percy stared out the window, watching as the horizon raced by. He wanted to comfort Annabeth, but what could he say? 

“My māmā married an awful guy when I was three,” he said. “Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide my scent from our world. Maybe your dad was doing the same?” 

Annabeth’s answering laugh held no humor. One of her hands drifted up to her camp necklace, where a thick ring sat, resting on her collarbone. Percy realized it must have been her father’s; he didn’t understand why she wore it if she hated him. 

“I might believe that if he ever acted like he loved me,” she said. “But no, to him and his wife, I was a freak. She didn’t like me playing with her children. She didn’t want me to call her mom. And my father always went along with whatever she said. Whenever anything dangerous happened, like me getting attacked by a monster, they would be so resentful, looking at me like it was my fault that their family was at risk. It didn’t matter that I was the one who was in danger.” 

Annabeth scratched at her arms. “I eventually took the hint and ran away,” she whispered. “I haven’t seen them since.” 

“How old were you?” Percy asked. 

“I was seven,” she said. “I was on the street for six months before I got to the Haven.” 

“How…how far were you from the Haven?” 

“We lived in Virginia. Luckily, métēr guided my way. And I eventually made some friends who took me in.” 

Percy stared at her as she drifted into silence after that. He wanted to say that she didn’t understand, that his life hadn’t been like that. 

He’d been miserable for most of his life, yes, friendless and rarely safe in his own home, but he’d never doubted that his māmā or theía loved him. They made sure he understood that he was important to them, even if he didn’t matter to anyone else. But he hadn’t seen Theía Dee in almost a year and his māmā was dead and he couldn’t go from being important to them, to having nothing. It didn’t matter that his métēr claimed him, it didn’t matter that he had friends, not so long as the family he’d always centered his life around were gone. He had to do everything he could to get his māmā back. 

But Annabeth wouldn’t understand and he couldn’t put it into words for her, so instead he stared out the window in silence. 

Near the end of their second day on the train, eight days before the summer solstice, they had a three hour layover in St. Louis before they started again towards Denver. 

When they exited the train, eager to get some fresh air, Annabeth stared up at the Gateway Arch with delight clear on her face. The way the sun hit her dark skin made it look like she was glowing. “I want to do something like that,” she said with awe. 

“What?” Percy asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“I want to build something like that,” she said eagerly. “Have you ever seen the Parthenon, Percy?” 

Percy shook his head. “Only in pictures,” he said. 

“Someday, I’ll get to see it in person. It’s my greatest inspiration. I’m going to create the greatest monument to the gods the world has ever seen - something that’ll last thousands of years.” 

Percy’s lips twisted into a smile. “You? An architect?” he asked, humor clear in his tone. 

Annabeth had such a one-track mind that he’s sure she would do anything she put her mind to, but after spending the past three days on the road with her, it was hard to imagine her sitting still for a long period of time, hunched over a desk and drawing all day. 

Annabeth turned to him with a sneer. “Yeah, my métēr expects her children to do things that improve the world, not just sow destruction the way the children of your patrios do.” 

Percy glared at her. “What, so focused on the Dodekatheon that you have no idea what my métēr may expect from her children? I have nothing to do with my patrios.” 

(Percy kept his suspicions about who Poseidon actually was to him buried down; his māmā had told him not to mention his patér at all. It didn’t matter.) 

Annabeth reared back, her expression becoming pinched. “That’s…fair. Fuck. Sorry.” 

Percy inhaled deeply. “It’s fine,” he said. It wasn’t, but he didn’t want to fight with her. He didn’t really care what people thought about him when it came to his métēr. She had nothing to do with who he was. That had everything to do with his māmā and theía. 

Percy glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes before looking forward. “I’m bad at school,” he eventually said. “I’ve never really thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up…I want to help people, I guess.” 

Annabeth had told her so much about herself and he’d said almost nothing about himself in return. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her, and talking about himself made him feel itchy, but he felt the need to let her know more about himself in return. 

Grover was standing next to them, silent and awkward, but honestly he deserved to know more about Percy too. 

“The neighborhood I grew up in was really poor.  I don’t really like people our age very often but…I used to babysit a lot for some of my neighbors. Tití Ana told me I’m really good with little kids and like…I don’t know. I didn’t have a lot of good adults in my life growing up, it’d be nice to help out kids in similar situations.” 

His face felt like it was on fire and he was staring holes into the ground in front of him. A pit had settled into the bottom of his stomach. 

Grover clasped a hand onto his shoulder. “That’s really nice, Perce,” he said. 

When Percy finally looked up, Annabeth was sending him a hesitant smile. “Yeah,” she said. “That’s…that’s awesome.” 

Percy’s lips twitched into a small smile for a second before he shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking towards the Arch. “Well, we’re stuck here for the next three hours and Annabeth is apparently a huge architecture nerd so let’s go check out the Arch,” he said, brusquely changing the subject. 

Annabeth perked up. “Oh my gods, yes please!” she squealed. “This may be my only chance to ride to the top!” 

Percy’s smile returned, this time choosing to stick around. He glanced at Grover, who also had a fond smile on his face. “That’s fine with me,” he said. “As long as there’s a snack bar that isn’t manned by an ancient Archetype who’ll put us on the menu if we piss them off.” 

Percy barked out a laugh. “Sounds good to me.” 

The Arch was about a mile away from the train station and it felt good to stretch their legs and walk around in the sun for a while. 

“The Gateway Arch is actually a monument to my métēr made by one of my siblings,” Annabeth happily infodumped at them as they made their way inside. “Held up by its own perfect symmetry, it’s a feat of modern architecture!” 

None of them were very impressed by the displays in the underground museum; Percy sneered at the gallery with a huge Manifest Destiny display. However, Annabeth’s facts about the Arch itself were pretty interesting and Grover kept sneaking Percy blue jellybeans, so he kept his snarky commentary to himself for once. 

Still, this didn’t mean Percy let his guard down. “Do you smell anything, man?” he whispered to Grover. 

Grover made a face. “Nah, man. Underground air always smells weird, it’s impossible to smell any part of our world down here.” 

Percy frowned; something still felt wrong deep in his gut. “But…okay, you guys know the god’s symbols?” 

Annabeth had been reading something about the construction, but she stopped when Percy spoke, turning to look at him. “Yeah?” 

“Doesn’t the Unseen King have a helmet that works like Annabeth’s hat?” 

Annabeth’s eyes widened. “Yeah,” she said. “The Helm of Darkness. I saw it at the Winter Solstice Council meeting, resting next to him.” 

“He was there?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Grover hummed. “Yeah, it’s the one time of year when the Council meeting is open to anyone. He always shows up, as do the Goddess-Queens.” 

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. Anyways, his Helm is far more powerful than my hat, from what I’ve heard.” 

Grover interjected, “With it, he becomes darkness. He can pass through unheard, unseen, and untouchable. Not to mention, it also radiates pure fear - the kind that drives you insane or stops your heart. It’s the reason most creatures fear the dark.” 

“So, uh, how do we know he’s not watching us right now?” Percy asked. 

Grover and Annabeth shared a look. “We don’t,” Grover said solemnly. 

“Awesome, just what I wanted to hear. Pass me some more blue jellybeans, please.” 

Percy had almost gotten his frazzled nerves under control when he saw the tiny elevator he’d have to get on to get to the top of the Arch. He hated small spaces; the feeling of being constrained made him feel like he was losing his mind. 

But there was one thing he hated more than small spaces and that was showing fear. Showing weakness to anyone outside of his māmā and theía had never gone well for him. So he got on the elevator without a word. 

They were joined by a tall, statuesque woman and her dog, a tiny chihuahua that kept growling at them, hatred gleaming in its beady black eyes. It seemed pretty badly behaved for a service dog, but the guards ignored its existence. 

“All alone, dearies?” the woman asked, smiling at them. 

She had thick black curls piled on top of her head and acid green eyes. Her features were strong, with a sharp nose and full red lips. She was wearing a full-length dark green sundress and a denim jacket. 

Annabeth frowned at her. “Our parents are waiting at the bottom,” she said. “Afraid of heights.” 

The woman pouted. “Oh, the poor things,” she said. Her dog barked at them. 

She tutted at him. “Oh, come now, sonny. Behave,” she scolded. 

“That’s his name?” Percy asked. “Sonny?” 

The woman laughed: a low, raspy sound. “No,” she said simply, as if that explained anything at all. 

Percy decided not to continue the conversation, focusing instead on keeping his stomach under control as they ascended with a curve. 

When they reached the observation deck, Annabeth squealed with delight as she looked around. She immediately began raving about the structural support and chattering about changes she would make, such as bigger windows and see-through floors. 

Percy fought to pay attention to her, instead of the fact that they were six hundred feet in the air in a tiny metal room. Grover smiled sympathetically at him. 

Finally, it was announced that the observation deck would be closing shortly and they were steered back to the elevator. Annabeth and Grover slipped inside but when Percy went to join them, he was informed that he’d have to wait for the next car. 

“Oh,” Annabeth said. “We can get out and wait with you.” 

Percy shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry about me,” he said. “I don’t wanna cause any trouble. I’ll meet you down there.” 

“If you’re sure,” Grover said, sounding doubtful. 

And then, Percy was on the observation deck with the lady and her dog, a young boy and his family, and the Arch's attendant. 

The woman smiled at Percy, her slitted pupils dilating as she stared at him with amusement. 

Wait. 

Percy’s heart started racing as the chihuahua started barking more aggressively, its muscles tensing. 

“Now, now. Do you really think this is the right time for this? After all, there are so many nice people around us,” the woman spoke softly to her dog. 

“Doggie!” the little boy exclaimed, jumping up and down. 

The chihuahua bared its teeth at Percy, a deep snarl vibrating through the air. 

The woman sighed. “Very well, son,” the woman sighed. “If you must.” 

“Did you just call the chihuahua your son?” Percy asked, feeling icy fear travel down his spine.  

The woman laughed as she began rolling her sleeves up, revealing scaly arms and black-clawed fingers. “Oh, dearie, it’s an easy mistake to make, but he’s actually a Khimaira. And he is my son.” Her lips parted, revealing needle-sharp fangs. 

The Khimaira shed its disguise as well, quickly growing large enough that it filled the room almost on its own. Instead of a tiny dog, Percy could see it was actually a huge lion-creature with a goat’s head growing from its back and a large rock viper lashing around, instead of a tail. 

The young boy screamed as he and his family skittered away, though the Arch’s attendant appeared frozen in fear. 

When the woman laughed this time, it was an unhinged sound, as her hair fell, hanging loosely around her torso and her dress shifted to reveal her bottom half was instead a large serpent. “You should feel honored, Perseus Jackson!” she howled. “The King himself sent me and my son to test you! I, the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Ekhidna, will prove whether you are a loyal hero to the gods or simply a tasty snack!” 

“Aren’t echidnas a kind of anteater?” Percy blurted out as he reached for his sword in a panic. 

Ekhidna hissed, her reptilian face distorting with rage. “Curse the Australians for naming that stupid animal after me!” she snarled. “And curse you for mentioning it. For that alone I would kill you, Perseus Jackson.” 

Percy’s fist finally closed around Anaklusmos and he felt something settle in him as he whipped it out of his pocket and slid the cap off, transforming it as he ran to the other side of the room, away from the mortals. 

“Back off,” he said shakily. “I’ve killed the starry bull and all three of the Eumenides with this blade.” 

The Khimaira spun to face him with impressive speed, its mouth opening to shoot a stream of fire at Percy. He dove through it, barely managing to hold back a scream of pain at the heat, but managing to escape the flames unscathed. 

The Arch’s walls weren’t so lucky, the flames hot enough to burn a hole through the wall, the ragged edges of the metal wall left steaming. 

Percy would’ve laughed under any other circumstances: of course they’d managed to destroy a national monument. The Mist was probably going to make this look like a terrorist attack. 

As the Khimaira turned to face Percy again, he lunged forward and slashed Anaklusmos against its neck. This proved to be a lethal mistake, as the blade simply clashed against the Terror’s metallic collar with a loud screech. 

In Percy’s hyperfocus on the flame-throwing lion’s head, he’d forgotten about its snake tail and had left himself unguarded against it striking out and sinking its fangs into his thigh. 

He cried out in pain, but just barely managed to stay standing, though he lost his grip on Anaklusmos, causing it to fly out of his hand and through the hole in the wall, falling six hundred feet to the ground below. 

Percy had lost; his leg burned with pure agony and he could feel the serpent’s venom racing through his system. He was weaponless, facing a Terror more than twice his size, with its horrific mother standing next to it, a cruel smile curving her lips. 

Percy’s eyes darted to the mortals, watching as they managed to escape into the elevator car, feeling relieved that at least he didn’t have to worry about what would happen to them when he died. 

The thing was, he didn’t want to let this Terror be what killed him. He started to creep towards the hole in the Arch. 

Ekhidna noticed what he was doing and threw her head back, cackling as she did so. Next to her, the Khimaira stayed still, staring at Percy with disinterest now that he’d been beaten. 

“What will you do, darling?” Ekhidna cooed. “I can see the Mississippi River from here, but you’re too far away to reach it just by jumping. You have no weapon and your powers are useless this far from water. So, tell me, will you die with honor, standing against my son with no hope to win? Or will you pray to the Queen of the Seas, your dear métēr, even though she has yet to answer your prayers, and dive off the Arch? You will die either way, so tell me: are you to die as a mere snack for my son or as a pawn to gods that do not care about you?” 

Percy closed his eyes, feeling himself sway as he struggled to keep standing. He stood at the edge of the hole in the Arch, the wind blew against his back. 

“You do not have faith in your gods, little coward,” Ekhidna whispered. “I do not blame you for that, they are faithless themselves. Better to die now, as a sacrifice, then in the future as their loyal soldier. The poison is within you.” 

Percy smiled shakily. Please, métēr. Please, patér, he thought. 

“Die, faithless one,” were Ekhidna’s last words as the Khimaira reared back to send another stream of flames at him. 

Percy took a step backwards and allowed himself to fall. 

Please save me.