"Sam," Gaea whispered in my ear. She appeared as fog around me, slithering and twisting through the air. A tendril of fog licked at my ear. "You haven't given me an answer. I told you what would happen if you didn't answer, Samantha." Out of the tendril emitted Luke's scream, whispering like far off thunder in my ear. I winced.
"I gave you an answer," I said, glad my voice was steady. "I said no."
An area of fog cleared, and there was Luke's spirit. He was bruised and unconscious, but otherwise he was okay. He was chines by the fog and hanging limply at the wrists.
"Luke!" I yelled and tried to run to him; I was stopped by an unseen force that held me in place. "Luke, I'm here. You'll be okay," I promised but realized I'd lied when I saw a tendril of fog curl above Luke like a whip.
"That was the wrong answer," Gaea growled and brought the whip down on Luke. I screeched as I tried in vain to save him. The fog sliced down and left a massive gash in its wake from his neck to his waist. Luke's cry of pain forced tears to the front of my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Luke," I whispered, falling to my knees. I couldn't give Gaea what she wanted, though. I couldn't damn the world for Luke, and he knew I couldn't. He wouldn't want me to either. "I'm so sorry."
My eyes flickered open, and I sighed. Another nightmare. But Gaea would never get me on her side. In a moment of weakness, I summoned forth an image of Luke. He was in the Fields of Asphodel, still wandering. Safe. I exhaled and stood up.
Another day. Like always I would wake up, take a shower to wash away the sweat, and climb up Mount Olympus to pretend I'd gotten enough sleep to make decisions about the state of the mortal and immortal worlds.
The hot water blasted onto my skin. Being created of all the gods from Boreas, the god of the frigid northern wind, to Apollo, the sun god, I was overwhelmed by the heat, but calmed all the same.
After the fall of the Titans, the gods created me, a mediator, to be able to see from all of their points of view. Basically, in a simpler sentence, they shoved every god's best and worst quality into a big mixing bowl, and out came me. I felt everything in such an awkward, doubled-up way. The cold was a welcome sensation, but simultaneously it made me want to jump into a volcano just to melt through the chill. Needless to say, I was slightly bipolar.
I stepped out of the shower and dried off my legs first, dragging the towel up my defined calves. Twenty thousand years of being a warrior helped with muscle definition. Lastly, I dried out my hair with a violent shake of the towel, tearing it through the dark hair that would change with the seasons: black in the dead of winter, light brown in the spring, bleach-blonde in the dog days of summer, and red in the autumn. With a quick blast of hot air I brought up from the tropics and through the window, I dried my hair.
Throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of worn-in jeans first, I waded out of my apartment and down two flights of stairs. I jogged past manhattan early-morning traffic. The honking of impatient cars and the cooing of impertinent pigeons littered the air and clogged my thoughts. Just around the corner, the Empire State Building loomed, touching the sky.
I tugged up the zipper of my light-weight hoodie and flipped on the hood way over the crown of my head to hide my face. Pushing through the double doors, I ignored the suspicious looks of suited men and women in their thirties and forties. I waited for an empty elevator and willed it up before the woman rushing for it could make it to the door. I didn't need a key, or whatever it was demigods used to get to Olympus. The elevator recognized my celestial aura and took my to the sky. I shoved it faster, and my gut dropped to my feet due to the speed.
The steep cliffs and smooth slopes were covered in snow that the nymphs had lain. The oreads had sculpted the mountain especially for the season, as to be perfectly complimented by the white powder. It was breathtaking. Construction of grand temples and gardens was in place. It was nearly done, due to the speed of the spirits, and it was grand. I was proud of my dear friend Annabeth for her design. Olympus had never looked better.
I took my time traveling to the top of the mountain. Using my powers to keep the snow from seeping into my canvas converse, I trudged upward, admiring every slope. The frozen grass crunched under my feet, and the sharp wind rolled across my cheeks.
The meeting hall, or whatever you want to call it, stood above me. I drew up to her doors, ornate and dark. I summoned a large gust of wind and threw open both doors, keeping my head down. The sound those doors made when they slammed back against the wall echoed down the mountain and down to the streets below.
"Dahlia," Aphrodite groaned, "must you be quite so dramatic?"
"You're half an hour late," said Mars as he flickered in the place or Ares.
"Aphro," I reminded her nonchalantly, "I've gone by Samantha for the last two centuries. Get used to the name already. And yes, it makes this job a bit more bearable." I completely ignored Mars altogether, and Ares flickered back in.
"Ugh!" Aphrodite whined. "I told you not to call me that!"
"And I told you not to call me Dahlia anymore, Deary."
Zeus impatiently drummed his fingers on his massive throne. I was tiny compared to them in this form; I could grow to their size, but I always found it slightly disorientating. I preferred to remain one size.
"We have grave issues to deal with," Zeus said darkly, his mustache twitching wile he talked.
"Hmm..." I slid onto the royal purple cushion in my place beside Zeus. I didn't get a throne because I wasn't "officially" one of the gods.
Poseidon raised his head from his hand. He looked years and years older. "My son-"
"Not now brother!" Zeus roared. "We have much more important matters to deal with-"
"Wait, what?" I stopped Zeus. I was the only being who ever seemed to dare to do that.
"Percy-" Poseidon begged.
"It's not important!" shouted Zeus.
"Percy is in trouble!" I growled. "And no one felt it important to tell me!?"
"Please, Samantha," Poseidon pleaded with his blue eyes. "I need my son safe."
"Where is he?" I said, standing decidedly.
Zeus spun and tried to subdue me, "You could not hope to get him back."
"Yeah, right," I chuckled. "Where is he?"
Poseidon bit his lip. "Tartarus."