Hey, guys! So this is the first chapter in what will hopefully be a longer fic. Please, please, tell me if you want to read more. Enjoy this chapter, and sorry that it's so short!
June twenty-second dawns hot and cloudy, and a warm breeze whips Annabeth's blonde hair off her forehead when she steps off the Greyhound from Boston. June in Long Island is always like this: uncomfortably muggy, with the promise of bluer skies in the months to come. But the approaching thunderstorm doesn't bother Annabeth as she hoists her luggage into the backseat of a waiting taxi; cloudy days don't exist where she's going.
"Where to, miss?" The cab driver, a balding older man, pulls out onto the turnpike and heads north. Annabeth hides her smile.
"Just keep going," she says. "I'll tell you when to turn off."
The cabbie seems a little confused as he follows her lead off the main highway, down the narrow country lane boarded by strawberry fields and fruit orchards.
"You live a ways out here, eh?"
Annabeth nods; he probably takes her for a rich prep-school kid coming home to her parent's mansion for the summer. It's a chore convincing the cabbie to drop her in the middle of nowhere ("kid, there's nothing out here) but by noon Annabeth is trekking down the familiar country road, past the sweet-smelling strawberries and the rich scent of tilled earth.
She crests the hill and crosses the borders, and she's home. Not home like San Francisco, or Saint Aldridge Academy, or the streets with Luke and Thalia. Home like Camp Half-Blood, the only place she's ever considered home.
"Gods, it's good to be back," Annabeth sighs, shoving her luggage under her bunk. Senior campers have special privileges, meaning that she finally gets a bottom bunk. The cabin is empty (or so it would seem) so she jumps about a foot when a male voice answers,
"It's good to have you back."
Percy appears in the doorway, holding a sprig of daisies. Annabeth can't help herself-she squeals like a little girl and flings herself at him.
"Oh Gods," she breathes, clinging to his shoulders. "I missed you so much."
It had been Chiron who had encouraged Annabeth to apply to the prestigious Saint Aldridge Academy back in January, reminding her that Camp Half-Blood would never be able to suit her academic needs. She hadn't considered going until she'd made a campus visit. One look at the library and she was sold. Of course, demigods can't use cellphones, so she'd had to make do with weekly Skype calls to Percy, and visits at winter and spring break.
He kisses her enthusiastically and she kisses him back and for a moment, in the silent cabin, everything is perfect.
Then Apollo shows up. Annabeth's sitting down by the lake, flipping through her AP European History textbook, when someone taps her on the shoulder. She turns around, assuming it's Percy. It's not. The blonde guy could easily pass for a camper-okay, maybe not-but he's so much hotter than any guy at Camp Half-Blood.
Gods, he's gorgeous, Annabeth thinks. Then she reminds herself that he knows it, too.
"Walk with me," Apollo invites, offering to help her up. She doesn't take his proffered hand.
"What do you want, Lord Apollo?"
He grins at her, and she swears she's seen that face on a thousand billboards. Come to think of it, she probably has.
"What, I can't take a walk with the most beautiful girl at Camp Half-Blood?"
Annabeth tucks her textbook under her arm and follows him towards the woods.
"Save it for the nymphs," she replies, but her witty banter belies her fear. Apollo isn't exactly Zeus, but he's a powerful god. Whatever he wants with her...well, it can't be good.
"You're cute," he says, brushing a hand against her arm. "I wouldn't mind taking you back to Olympus with me."
She cringes away, folding her arms and coming to a halt in front of a sprawling elm tree that she's pretty sure is a forest nymph.
"What do you want with me?"
And just like that, the cocky sun god is gone, replaced by a worried twenty-something with eyes older than time.
"I'm the sun god," Apollo says, "but I'm also the god of prophecy. And I've heard things...bad things, Annabeth Chase."
She folds her arms.
"Lord Apollo, I've been to the Underworld and back. It's going to take more than that to scare me."
He cocks his head, observing her. Another god might have smote her where she stands, but not him. Apollo appreciates, if anything, anyone who can match his witty repartee.
"Okay," he says finally. "It involves a certain Perseus Jackson. Surly you wouldn't know of such a boy?"
And in that one moment, Annabeth swears that her blood freezes in her veins. She manages to choke out a single word:
"No."
Apollo leans closer.
"Yes. Look, I'm not even supposed to tell you this much, okay? But as much as my siblings refuse to admit it, the fates of the gods rest in the hands of you kids."
Annabeth has recovered a little by now, and she draws in a shaky breath.
"Please, tell me what's going to happen."
In response, Apollo turns towards the cluster of white buildings on the field. As if on cue, a blood-curdling scream rises from camp. Fear cuts Annabeth like a knife. Her first instinct is to run, but she is terrified of what she might find.
"Go on, daughter of Athena," Apollo says sadly. "Go and save him."