"What's going on?" Percy asked his friend Bobby, drawing his gold sword.
"I don't know. She just showed up, I guess. A spy, maybe, or a monster," Bobby replied before leaving Percy at the edge of the clearing to join the fight.
It was one girl against four, but she was holding her own surprisingly well - especially against members of the first legion. She was armed with only a bronze knife, but she used it like an extension of herself – spinning and kicking, whirling and slicing. She twirled to parry one of Reyna's strikes, striking a small cut against the daughter of Mars' face. Whoever she was, the campers needed help. Bobby had joined the fight, adding pressure against the girl, but she was still winning.
Percy raced forward to join in – he was a talented swordsman, hopefully he could help his friends capture this rogue. He shifted the gold sword in his hands – even after months of using it, it still felt unbalanced. But no matter. His friends needed help.
Percy swiped at the girl, but she dodged and attacked Bobby. He shifted his sword and jabbed at the handle of her knife, hoping to disarm her, but again she parried. When her back was turned, fighting Hazel, Percy swung downwards at her fighting arm – he didn't want to kill her, but this girl needed to be stopped.
At the last moment, the girl spun around, as if she knew Percy's fighting style. She met his blow sword-to-knife, and then their eyes met. Gray on green, he saw something soften in her determined face. Her mouth formed a small "o" and she relaxed the grip on her knife. It clattered to the ground.
"Oh, gods. I'm so-" she started, her eyes never leaving Percy's. Did he know this girl? He didn't think so. She was trying to hurt his friends.
Reyna grabbed the girl from behind, roughly shoving her against a tree. "Gwen – rope, please."
Gwen rummaged through her toolbag, finally pulling out a long piece of rope. Reyna began to tie the girl's hands.
The mysterious girl continued to stare at Percy helplessly, as if expecting him to say something. He opened his mouth to speak – there was something about her, as if he knew her, but...
"I'm going to find Lupa," he finally said, sheathing his gold sword and jogging off. But on his way out of the clearing, he tripped over something bronze – the girl's knife, the one she'd dropped. Without thinking, he picked it up and continued on his way to the she-wolf's cave.
Lupa wasn't there. She must have gone hunting, or was teaching a class, but he didn't have time to find her. The first legion would have to deal with the situation on their own.
He hesitated, thinking about the girl. Who the hell was she, and how did she find the camp? She looked like a demigod, but he couldn't be sure. And the way she fought with the knife... But it wasn't gold, not like the sword he fought with. It was... Percy paused, drawing a ballpoint pen out of his pocket. Lupa had forbidden him from using the strange bronze sword since the moment he set foot in camp, but it was the only sword that felt balanced in his hand. It was something from his past. He uncapped the pen, allowing the three feet of glowing bronze to lengthen. He compared it to the girl's knife – yes, the same material. This girl was an anomaly, but she must have had something to do with him. With his past. He ran back to the clearing where she'd been caught, sheathing both the knife and the bronze sword.
"Where's Lupa?" Bobby demanded. All four of the other demigods turned to look at Percy.
"She wasn't there," he said simply, avoiding the gray eyes of the spy. There was something penetrating there, something that scared him worse than Gaea or the giants. He could feel those eyes staring at him, but he lowered his own. "We'll have to deal with it ourselves."
"She's not talking," Gwen said, as if the girl wasn't right beside her. "Can you give us a hand?"
"Nice disarming maneuver, by the way," Reyna added. "You really helped us win that fight."
"That wasn't-" Percy hesitated. He hadn't disarmed the girl. She'd dropped her knife as soon as she saw his face. "Nevermind, thanks, Reyna." He pulled out the bronze knife and handed it to Gwen.
"Do you recognize this metal?" he asked her.
"It's nothing I've worked with," she replied. "My dad's worked with a lot of metals – he is the god of forges, after all. But nothing like this." Gwen handed the knife back to Percy.
"That's mine, give it here," the girl said. All five sets of eyes turned to look at her.
"First word she's said," Hazel murmured.
"Are you a demigod? Who are you?" Reyna blurted immediately.
"He knows," the girl said casually, nodding in Percy's direction without meeting his eyes. The campers turned to look at Percy.
"Look-" he stuttered, "I don't- I mean, she never- I don't know who-"
"From your past?" Bobby suggested.
"No. I have no idea who she is," he said, finally looking at the girl.
She was bound to the tree – Hazel was known for her knot-tying. Both hands were tied above her head, and she was staring right back at Percy. Her lower lip was completely busted, probably courtesy of Reyna, but she hadn't seemed to notice. She glared at him, those stormy gray eyes again, as if she was searching for any flash of recognition or meaning in his own sea green ones.
"Who are you?"
"You know me," she said finally, barely audible.
"I don't-"
"You know me," she repeated with more force. But this time, it was more as if she was trying to convince herself.
"Where did you come from? Why are you here?" Reyna asked, causing the girl to turn back to her. Percy felt a shiver go down his back as she turned away. Did he know her?
"I won't tell you anything. Not until he says my name," the girl said fiercely.
"Percy, tell us her name," Bobby complained. "We need to know why she's here."
"I don't know it. I don't know her," Percy protested. Those princess curls, the gray eyes... He tried to remember something, anything. He wanted it to be somewhere. Maybe something could trigger his memory. But... nothing. There was nothing there.
"She seems to think otherwise," Hazel pointed out casually.
"How did you find our camp?" Gwen asked.
"It's not hard, if you know what you're looking for."
"And what were you looking for?"
"Perseus Jackson," she replied simply. He felt a chill down his spine – how did she know his real name? No one knew his real name.
"Perseus? There's no-" Bobby began, before his gaze fell on Percy. "Percy, is your real name...?"
"How do you know that? No one uses that name except enemies..." Percy said, glaring at the girl. She glared right back, the intensity in her gaze goading him on.
"And friends," she finished angrily.
"You're not my friend!" he blurted without thinking. There was a pregnant moment where all they could do was stare at each other, daring the other to say something. Then her eyes fell. She seemed to shrink in size, almost, slouching down. Her eyes slid towards the forest floor. For a scary moment, he almost went over there and comforted her. It was a natural instinct, muscle memory. When this blonde haired, gray eyed girl is hurting, you take care of her. Where did that come from? He squashed the emotion. He didn't know her. He couldn't know her.
"Untie my hands," she said quietly, after a few moments.
"No." Reyna replied with finality.
"Why?"
"You'll hurt me," Percy said.
She looked at him for a moment, and then unexpectedly threw back her head and laughed. "As if. You bear the curse of Achilles, hero."
He froze. The way she said hero made him think... "All heroes have weaknesses."
And then, by the way her eyes slid towards his midsection, he knew. He knew that she knew where his Achilles spot was. How did a complete stranger know? He'd been careful not to tell a single soul. He panicked – she really could kill him.
In a moment, he'd lunged forward, drawing his weapon and holding it to her throat.
"How do you know it? How do you know my weak spot?" he demanded. Her eyes slid towards the weapon in his hands, and then a frown graced her face. Only then did he realize he hadn't drawn his gold sword – instead, he'd accidentally pulled out her knife.
"The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap," she said quietly, almost to herself.
Percy hesitated (what could it mean?), then pushed it against her throat with more force. "I said, how did you-"
"Do it."
"What?"
She glared at him, biting her bleeding lip. "Do it, I said. Slit my throat."
"I can't-" For some reason, he knew that even if he wanted to, he would never hurt her.
"He already cursed it by breaking his promise. What harm can a little more blood on the blade do?" she glared at him, daring him to draw the knife along her neck and end it.
"Don't, Perce," Bobby said. "We need to question her." But they were in their own little world – neither listened to the son of Minerva.
"You know me," the blonde girl said once more. Her face was mere inches from his own, and he wanted so badly to just kill her, but he couldn't.
"I don't..." Besides, he couldn't remember anything from his past. Well, almost anything. Except one name. Just the name, someone named...
"Annabeth," he blurted. It was true, that was her name. And in a moment, connecting the name to the face, everything came rushing back. From first meeting her, to kissing her goodnight the moment before Hera... And then the other memories too, of Grover and Tyson and Rachel and his mom- his mom! And Annabeth, of course Annabeth, and how could he be holding Luke's cursed blade to the neck of the girl he loved? He stumbled backward, dropping the knife.
"I told you he'd remember," she said to no one in particular.
"Annabeth," he repeated.
And that's when he blacked out.