Disclaimer- I do not own anything Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Waves lapped the shores of our cabin in Montauk. Paul and I sat barefoot on the sand, listening to the squawk of seagulls and the eager scuttling of crabs as they moved sideways along the rocks. It was an oddly peaceful moment for a demigod. If only I didn't have to ruin it with talk of monsters, dark prophecies, Kronus rising from the pits of Tartarus- but he was my mom's fiancé now, and we both agreed he should know the truth before making the long walk down the aisle.
I took a steadying breath, but Mr. Blowfis beat me to it, "You seem out of sorts today Percy. Does it have anything to do with Annabeth coming down here?" My heart rate sped up, probably because of the cold sea air.
"No way," I said, shaking some of my dark fringe out of my eyes. "My best friend, who I almost never see except during the spring, is coming here for a weekend. I'm psyched." It was important to me that she saw this place, especially with the war fast approaching. It was where I saw the ghost of my dad's smile as a baby and where Grover first "revealed" himself to me. They were some pretty great memories.
"You got rid of all the spiders, right?" I added as an afterthought, knowing Annabeth was likely to kill me if she saw one dripping from her shower-head in the morning.
"Uh huh," he nodded, amusedly, "For such a tough girl, she really seems to have it out for those things."
"More like they have it out for her," I muttered, drawing lines in the surf with my toe.
We settled down into silence for a moment. It would be so much easier if I could just show Paul the water doing something weird, but the Mist worked too well sometimes. He'd blame air currents, or global warming, or claim that it was a trick of the light, unless….
Chiron and I had been working on this new technique. Turns out I could actually "wash" someone of their faulty vision if I wanted to, but it would take a lot of energy. The harder someone tried to hold onto their delusions, the more tired I would become. But Paul was a Greek freak, making at least some connection between my father and "Lord Poseidon" on my birthday. I closed my eyes, and probed the ocean with my magic.
It was sort of like gold-mining. You know, when people take big buckets of dirt and drop it into a sifter, hunting the precious metal that sinks to the bottom. Right now, I was searching for tiny pockets of water, the purest and cleanest stuff there was, and infusing it with my energy.
Then I launched the ball at Paul, trying hard to look surprised when out of the blue, he was soaking wet. "What the-" he spluttered, his nose dripping and thin, white t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his chest.
He glanced at me and pointed an accusing finger, "How are you so dry?"
I shrugged my shoulders, a smile still twitching around my lips. "Why don't we get you a towel and I'll explain." I clambered upright, my flip-flops hitting the ground without leaving a trail.
"No, really," he asked, bewildered.
"Patience, Mr. Blofis."
My nose sniffed the air appreciatively as I walked inside- Mom's blue chocolate chip cookies. She was dancing around the kitchen, a streak of flour on her face to match the grey streaks in her hair. She took one look at Paul and rounded on me, hands placed only jokingly at her hips, "Honey, what did you do?"
"It wasn't Percy, Sally," Paul quickly defended me. I knew there was a reason that I liked this guy. "The sea was just acting really strange."
"Is that so?" she raised her eyebrow. Just then, the timer on the oven went off, and she jumped up to make sure the food wouldn't burn. I slumped into a chair while Paul went to the refrigerator for some milk. He set a glass in front of me and was about to pour some in, when I grabbed his wrist.
"I think I'm going to have water," I explained, not making an effort to move.
"Okay, I can go get you some…." Undoubtedly, he thought there was a glitch in my personality.
"No, I can handle it. Just watch what happens to the sink." Mom heard what was going on and rushed to Paul's side, acting nervous. I couldn't blame her. I felt my stomach clench, either from stage-fright or because that's my version of pressing the "on" button with my powers.
The pipes creaked dangerously. Suddenly, a geyser erupted from the spigot, condensing in the air, until it formed a fine ribbon of liquid. It sailed two feet, five feet, eight feet before landing neatly in my cup. Mr. Blowfis stared at the water's final resting place incredulously, so to break him of his shock, I picked the drink up and took a sip. Ah, refreshing.
"Paul, sweetheart-" My mom twisted her fingers together, "I know it's a lot to take in, but Percy…. He's a hero." I cringed, picturing Superman. "Half-blood," she corrected. "The Greek gods are alive are alive. And the man you met at the apartment, Percy's father, is actually Poseidon."
"I think- I need- a minute to—to process this." His face looked positively green and he backed up a little, to lean against the door-frame. I was surprised that he hadn't laughed at us, but seeing a miracle played out before your eyes was a quick way to turn someone into a believer.
I took Riptide out of my pocket and rapped it on the table, like I do out of habit. Paul zoomed in on it, maybe out of the desire to concentrate on something normal, and right now it just looked like a ballpoint pen. "You always carry that around. Thinking of writing the next great American novel like your mother?" he joked. He was my English teacher; he knew that books weren't my thing, especially considering my dyslexic.
I flicked the cap off with my thumb. The usually dim kitchen lightened as three-feet of celestial bronze grew in my hand. "It's sort of standard equipment for me," I said, swinging the blade expertly a few times, while making sure it got nowhere near my parents.
"Well, that's-" he gulped, and I started to wonder if he was going to finish a sentence in my presence ever again. I re-capped the world's scariest school supply and set it in front of me.
Finally, after so many minutes passed I thought Artemis would be relieving Apollo of his shift, Mr. Blowfish reached out for my mom, collapsing her in a hug. "I always knew I was marrying into an extraordinary family," he mumbled into her hair, "I just never considered it was quite this…."
"Crazy," I supplied, flashing a toothy grin.
"I'd prefer 'interesting'," he quipped, but by returning my smile, I figured this wouldn't change things for us too much. "So," he drawled, "Come on, give me some details. It seems I have been missing out on quite a lot."
The two of us traded off sharing important pieces of information. For example, she got to explain where I went every summer, and I described the finer points of my quests, including everything that was going on with Kronus. Even though I sensed he was scared for me, there was also an undercurrent to his expression- like he was a little boy who had just been told that he could go on a pirate adventure. He acted the way Annabeth expected me to when I first got to Camp Half-Blood, all eager because I'd been given the chance to fight the Minotaur.
Speaking of my favorite daughter of Athena, a knock resounded from outside. I rushed to the door and helped her bring her suitcase inside, though, as she reminded me, she "was perfectly capable of carrying her bag in herself, Seaweed Brain."
"Are we sure they're not dating?" I heard Paul say from the other room and blushed. Who did he think he was, anyway? Oh right, my step-father-to-be.
Annabeth and I had just finished saying "hello" when a hell-hound, not Mrs. O' Leary, came barging inside. Froth dripped from her mouth and her angry barks were enough to make my ears bleed. I reached for my sword, which had magically returned to my pocket, and slashed at its underbelly. Dark guts fell to the floor, but that just seemed to make her angrier. Meanwhile, Annabeth had disappeared, using her Yankees' baseball cap to get behind the monster. With a "hi-ya" she jumped on its back. I could tell because there was suddenly a dent at the spot where someone would sit.
The dog tried to shake her off, and partially succeeded. Her hat flew off, leaving her wavy blonde hair tumbling off her back. Barely processing the fact that she looked pretty like that, I jabbed at the hell-hounds' throat. With a sharp gasp, it dissolved into shadows and then into nothing.
"You okay, Wise Girl?" I offered her my hand, and she used it to leverage herself up.
"Fine," she breezed, stormy grey eyes sparking, like there was actual electricity trapped inside her gazes. I stepped closer and hugged her. After a split-second hesitation, she hugged me back, pressing her face to my chest.
"It's good to see you."
She pulled away rather reluctantly, if I do say so myself. Mom and Paul, hearing the commotion die down, emerged from the kitchen. I picked a hell-hound tooth off the rug and handed it to Mr. Blowfish, smartly, "There. Your first spoil of war."
Annabeth jerked upwards, "He knows?"
"We told him this afternoon."
Paul grinned, more confidently than he had all day, "I'm guessing you're a demigod too."
"You better believe it," she said and we all chuckled. With that tension gone, we settled onto the couches in the living room to watch a movie. I found myself staring from Paul to Annabeth with a sort of sappy look on my face.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked me, just as the two main actors wrestled off the side of a building. It seemed that they could fly.
"It's just… More good memories," I said. She smiled, understandingly.
"More good memories," she echoed.