A/N Welcome to the sequel of Thalia the Hunter. The last part of Thalia was really choppy, but hopefully, thanks to the help of my new Beta Reader, storm-brain, we'll see to it that it doesn't happen again.
This story will be told in third-person, as there will be many different things going on, I figure it's the only way to keep a good, healthy story. Also, my line breaks are two hyphens with a number. Every new chapter I'll start at one, but when the number goes up, it means I'm switching scenes. For example, I may do --1-- more than once, but when I do --2-- I'll be switching to another it doesn't make sense now, it will later.
Troy looked upon the dead body of his half-sister, Thalia. Her hair was rough and matted, skull split where he had slashed his sword through it. She had taken care of him for about a week, saved him from a few monsters, but he still hated her. Now, she lay there, dead on the concrete.
Though most decent people would feel terrible, guilty and ashamed, Troy felt nothing, and still as her blood rushed from her slain body and gushed onto the concrete, a small smile formed at his lips. Not a happy smile, but a content, satisfied smile.
Something caught his eye. A small, yellow key-chain hung from Thalia's belt loop. He bent down, ignoring the shocked, horrified, and disgusted Olympian goodie-goodies beside the slain half-blood.
He flung his sword to the side, it clanged against the concrete. He wouldn't need it any longer, for he recognized the key-chain as his sister's gift from their father, Zeus, a sword made of pure Olympian gold, created by Hephaestus himself.
He unhooked the key-chain and the sword instantly grew to its normal size. A beautiful sword, forged in the shape of a lightning bolt, solid gold appeared in his hand. It was perfectly balanced in his blistered palm.
Troy turned to face his audience – the titan army – raised his new sword in the air, and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"FOR THE TITANS!"
A roar came from the crowd as they rejoiced this world-changing day. Troy watched as they screamed, cheered and hollered. That's when the smile that represented his happiness crept across his face. After the crowed had finally settled, he leveled his sword up to his grandfather, Kronos, and began to speak.
"And you, the Titan Lord, as of this historic day, I free you from your humanly bonds, and allow you to assume your own form—" a small blue light radiated off the golden sword. Kronos dropped his jaw, exposing a brilliant light blue light; his eyes took on the exact same color, leaving not a trace of his own eyes. Suddenly, the light shown all around him, blinding everyone. Troy brought his free hand up to shield his eyes, and when the light faded, his grandfather had grown but a few feet taller. His hair had became as dark as the night sky, matching the long, shaggy beard that reached to his upper chest. He was as skinny as a homeless man, and had the eyes of an insane man, wildly looking around, moving freely as they did so.
The crowd didn't cheer, Troy figured that they were too scared to cheer, but the Titan Lord didn't seem to notice.
There was one more thing Troy didn't realize until a few seconds later.
On the ground, huddled in a ball, was his old form, a young half-blood, lay unconscious.
"—Long live Kronos!" Troy yelled. The sound of swords being unsheathed filled the air.
"Long live Kronos!" They shouted in unison.
Kronos stumbled to where the Olympian party kneeled, unable to move.
"As for you, worthless scoundrels, I send you back to the place you belong, your precious camp!" Kronos snapped. He waved his hands, and the Olympian party was gone.
--1--
"Must I do everything my self?!" The lord of time screamed. "I've already announced we will not be living on Olympus, so why am I getting floor plans of the new designs of Olympus?"
Some of the titan supporters had been sent to cause destruction in random places. Some of the…lucky… ones had to stay with Kronos. Among these was Troy.
However, a few main people were with Kronos at this time. Troy – of course, the boy who had acted as the Titan lord's body during the take over, Luke, and Kronos' wife, Rhea. They all four sat around a wooden table in the Titan's Enclave. The only light was provided by lit torches that were attached to the wall. The table was small, and wooden, not sanded very well at all, and gave you splinters if you slid your hand over the surface.
"So what exactly do you want?" Rhea asked, irritated. "A castle made of ice?! A thrown made out of clouds?! What about a stable full of horses?! Would that satisfy you, your majesty?"
"Mind your words, Rhea, you are my wife, but that does not make you immune to the punishments of mortals."
Rhea rolled her eyes. She was a beautiful woman, yes indeed. She looked much like her daughters, Hera, Demeter and Hestia, yet, she looked much different. Her eyes were a light brown, in fact, they were almost gold. Her lips were an unnatural copper color, almost blending in with her perfectly tan skin. She had a couple wrinkles around her lips and eyes, but that only made her more beautiful in Troy's eyes.
"I want," Kronos proceeded. "A medieval castle in Greece, that way the mortals can visit me and beg for mercy." Kronos grinned a wicked, evil grin. His teeth were a hideous yellow. Troy expected to see bugs crawling around in his mouth.
"Anything with the word 'evil' in it, eh, Kronos?" Rhea mumbled under her breath.
"What was that?" Kronos snapped.
"What? Nothing, I'll alert the architects at once." She said, although she made no movement to get up.
"I have a question," Troy announced. Kronos took a breath.
"Ah, yes, Troy, my dearest grandson. I'd like to thank you for making all of this possible." Kronos said, through a false friendly grin. "And Luke my dear boy, you deserve credit for all this as well."
Luke looked distant, staring into space. The light flickered against his face. He said nothing, but kept staring, not even acknowledging that Kronos had spoken to him. He looked rather disturbed.
There was an awkward silence.
"Ah, yes well, what was your question, Troy?" Kronos kept going. He was being nice… too nice.
"I...I was wondering—" Troy stammered. He often got troubled whenever he spoke to his grandfather. His grandfather awoke a fear in Troy that was greater than anything else. He always did whatever his grandfather said, no matter what the cost.
"You were wondering what?" Kronos prompted, but troy could tell he was getting impatient.
"Why you let the half-bloods go. I thought you wanted them all dead."
The lord of time grinned another evil grin, exposing his hideous teeth. He paused a moment to answer. "I do, I do indeed, more than anything. Troy, have you ever heard some say 'save the best for last?'"
Troy nodded. He had heard the expression in his short, miserable life. On the outside, Tory was sixteen, but inside, he was still the five year old boy that Kronos had recruited, and who had been in love with the beautiful Anniebeth.
"Well, the half-bloods deaths will be the icing on the cake. You see, Troy, they will soon run out of supplies, food, water, whatever it may be, and they will leave the camp, not all at once of course, maybe one or two at a time. But do you know what will happen when they leave the camp?"
"No," Troy answered quickly. He had seen the punishments bestowed on those who chose to ignore the Titan Lord, he did not want to go there.
"They will be ambushed by a select few warriors I have spying on the camp, and they will die. One by one." Kronos laughed a bit. "That way, my pleasure will last."
"But what will happen if the half-bloods kill the warriors?" Troy asked, wanting to keep the conversation going for reasons unknown to even him.
"I will simply send more," Kronos replied, leaning back in his chair.
"How will you know if they die or not?" Troy asked. He knew by this time his questions would by grinding on his grandfather's nerves.
"Kronos will be receiving around-the-clock reports on the camps' progress." Rhea chimed in, looking at her husband nervously. He nodded.
Troy hesitated. He knew he would possibly get into a large amount of trouble by asking his next question, but he thought if may be worth it.
"Sir, if I may," he began. "I'd like to know my position."
"Position?" Kronos asked.
"Yes, sir. When I joined the titan's you promised me a position of power, and I…" His voice trailed off.
"Ah, I did, didn't I?" Kronos began. "But, I've changed my mind."
Troy was confused.
"You have?"
"Indeed." He said. Even though he was Greek, he had the vocabulary of a British man. "You see, Troy, now that I have taken charge over those inferior gods, I am no longer in need of the service of yourself and Luke."
Troy was shocked.
"Oh, really?" He asked, getting mad.
"Yes, so, I have decided to let you both rot in the dungeon. Guards!"
More shock overcame him. Suddenly, he wasn't so afraid of his grandfather. He stood up.
"What?! You can't do this to us! We trusted you!" Troy shouted.
Kronos stood up as two extremely tall men in Greek battle-armor appeared from the darkness. "That, my boy, was your first mistake."
Troy felt one of the men grab his arm, he yanked away. "You will not get away with this!" Troy was also near tears. Luke sat in his chair, he hadn't moved the slightest bit since he entered the room. One of the men grabbed his arm, Luke willingly stood, but the dazed, disturbed look on his face.
"I believe I already have." Kronos said, and laughed. Rhea sat at the table, speechless. The guard tugged at Troy again, grabbing both his arms, he tried to pull away once more, but he couldn't break free. The guard was at least six feet taller then he, and without a doubt had more muscle.
Troy tried to yell more, but his voice wouldn't work. He held back tears. The very thought of spending the rest of his life in a cell struck more fear than the fear of Kronos. He looked to Luke, who was still distant, and back at Kronos, who was grinning once more.
Without another word, the guards dragged him and Luke into the darkness.
--1--
Once the darkness ended, they were led down a dimly-lit, long and narrow hallway. Once again, the room was lit by torches, which gave the hall a reddish glow. There were many doorways in the hall that led to gods-only-know-where.
At the very end of the hall was a doorway that faded into complete darkness. Troy knew that's where his life would end. But as they slowly made their way towards the doorway, he reflected on his life.
It had been short. He was only five years-old.
He remembered the shocked, hurt look on Thalia's face when he and a band of harpies had attacked her and two other hunters near a highway.
He remembered how many tears were shed when he found out his mother was leaving him with Thalia.
He remembered the tingle of Kronos's aging magic as it had coursed through his veins, causing him to age prematurely over a course of days.
But mostly, he remembered Annabeth—or Anniebeth as he would have called her then, as he was unable or unwilling to pronounce her name as Annabeth.
But the Annabeth he had known was just a clone of the real thing. Kronos had used her to get in good with Thalia and Troy. But the clone had died as the hotel they had stayed at collapsed; leaving Thalia heartbroken that Annabeth was dead. Thalia hadn't lived long enough to realize that she really was still alive. Troy wondered if the half-bloods at the camp Thalia told Troy about realized she wasn't dead.
Suddenly, the guard firmly grasping Troy's shoulder let go, and cried a small cry of pain. Before he knew what was happening, a small pile of dust appeared on his shoes. He looked at Luke, stunned, who in return, gazed blankly back at him as he'd been doing since he and Kronos were separated. The guard holding Luke looked around frantically, trying not to show fear. He held his right hand out and a large double-bladed war-axe appeared from thin air.
Then, a blond girl with storm grey eyes and a tattered orange T-shirt that advertised Camp Half-Blood, and grimy khaki shorts stepped from the darkness and into the dim light, as calmly as the guards had walked Luke and Troy a few seconds earlier. She carried a small knife in her hand, the half of it covered with the same dust that was now in Troy's shoes.
Anniebeth? Troy thought, not believing what he was seeing. He knew that Annabeth had been kept prisoner here, but Kronos would never show him to her cell. She was extra skinny and as pale as death, but he still thought she was as beautiful as ever.
Even though this was the first time he was seeing the real Annabeth, he knew he was in love.
The much-larger guard laughed, and he charged into combat.
He lifted his axe high above his head and brought it down with extreme force. Annabeth jumped out of the way swiftly, missing the axe by about a second. As a result, she plunged against the wall, and Troy heard a small crack as her body and the wall collided. She pushed off the wall immediately. The guard's axe had stuck in the floor, splitting the wood into to sections. He struggled to remove it as Annabeth swiped the blade of her knife against the flat of his back. He hissed, and yanked with all his force, the axe came from the floor and into the air. The guard kicked with his enormous foot, planting it in Annabeth's stomach. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. The guard grinned wickedly. Troy's hand moved slowly to the key-chain that changed to a sword in his pocket. Slowly and steadily, as Annabeth coughed, the guard brought his axe upwards. Troy grabbed hold of the key-chain, when the guard suddenly got smaller—a lot smaller. He grew shaggy white fur, and his eyes turned bright red. The axe he once held fell to the ground with a clatter.
When the shock wore off, Troy was able to see what had happened. The guard had been transformed into an albino ferret. Troy looked from the ferret, to Annabeth—who had reached the end of her coughing fit. A figure moved in the corner of Troy's eye.
A red headed woman of age twenty at the most stepped from the shadow. She wore a long, white gown that reached her feet. She had a pale complexion, which was completed with a series of light brown freckles painted across her face. The woman locked her gaze on the albino ferret and headed towards it. She carefully picked it up with both hands and made her way over to Troy. She held the ferret out to him.
"Does this creature mean anything to you, young nephew?" She asked. She looked at him with warm, sympathetic, but somewhat sad eyes.
"Umm… not really," Troy said, face glowing red.
"Really? Look harder." The woman demanded. Troy looked, and as he did so, it all came back to him. When he and Thalia were traveling, he had led them to a pet store in Idaho, where he had stolen an albino ferret…just like the one the woman was holding.
"Oh, yeah," He said aloud, glancing nervously at Annabeth. "I named it Anniebeth."
"Huh?" Annabeth asked, rudeness in her voice. Luke had made his way to the wall and was now sitting on the floor. Annabeth slowly made her way towards Troy, knife in hand. She pushed him against the wall. "You kill my best friend, on top of all the gods of Olympus—" Troy could now feel the coldness of her blade against his throat, his shirt bunched up in one of her fists. "You destroy the world, and you dare look me in the eye and tell me that you named a ferret after me?!" She kept a glare, but her voice was breaking, meaning she would soon cry.
"Annabeth—" Troy tried, but she cut in. Bringing her blade closer and tightening her grip.
"Your sister…your own sister…your father. How could you just…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes began to water. She tossed Troy to the ground, causing his tailbone to ache for a few seconds. She turned and wiped the tears from her eyes. Troy was infuriated.
"They didn't care! Neither of them! Ever!" He cried. She turned to him, evil look on her sweet face.
"You're not even worthy to speak of them! If you ever disrespect either of their names again I'll—"
"Annabeth!" The woman warned. Annabeth's voice broke again.
"I'm sorry," she said to her. Troy noticed that Annabeth hadn't even acknowledged Luke's presence.
"How do you know all this anyway?" Troy asked, but Annabeth ignored him.
"Lady Hestia, why did you make me do this?" Annabeth asked the woman holding the ferret. I stood.
"Hestia?" I asked. "You can't be…you'd have to be dead…"
"To take out all the gods and goddess would take a thousand more armies than what Kronos has." Hestia began. "My father is smarter than that. I think he hopes that the minor gods will join him, so there's no need to kill them, but the Olympians… it makes me so glad I gave my throne to Dionysus."
"I don't mean to be pushy, Lady Hestia, but could we hurry and get out of here? I'd like to talk with Chiron." Annabeth asked, looking at me when she finished the statement.
"Ah, yes, the centaur. I'm surprised Kronos didn't take him out as well, he hates him as much as he did the Olympians." Hestia told her. "Now, I am able to teleport you back to your camp—" Annabeth's face lit up—"but you have a choice to make. Would you like to take them with you?" She gestured towards me and Luke.
Annabeth looked from Troy, to Luke, and repeated the process three times; each time when she looked at Troy, the scowl on her face became more visible. She let at a long sigh and looked back at Hestia.
"Sure, I'll take them both with me." She said unenthusiastically.
"Really? Why?" Troy asked, confused. She took another sigh.
"Because, I've been in those cells for weeks. I'd feel bad to let any human—not matter how much I hate them—spend the rest of their lives there. I may be mad at you both, but I'm nothing like either of you."
Hestia smiled, and placed a hand on Annabeth's back. "Your mother would've been proud."
Annabeth smiled a bit, but glared at Troy a few seconds later.
It hadn't occurred to Troy that he had killed Annabeth's mother, she hadn't mentioned it. All she had mentioned was him killing Thalia.
I'm nothing like either of you.
--2--
"Quickly, children!" Chiron yelled over the storm that had penetrated the camps' boundaries. "Into the Big House!"
Percy, Nico, Zana, and Saeva followed to centaur the best they could, though it was raining so hard, they couldn't see very clearly.
They had been teleported just outside camp borders. The usually-beautiful half-blood hill was a scene from a nightmare. No, worse, it was the wrath of Kronos.
Zana remembered camp from when she first found out her parentage. She had lived here a year or so before she made the decision to join the hunt. Leaving this place had been the hardest thing she ever had to do.
Until, of course, she had to see her father—Hermes's—dead body strewn across the street in New York, his top half lying over Zeus, and bottom lying on the cripple Hephaestus. A sword was plunged in his back, an arm ripped from his body. A trickle of blood came from his mouth.
Remembering these small facts caused her to burst into tears again. She didn't want the other to know she had been crying, of course. At least it was raining, that way no one could tell she had been crying. She had thought she heard Saeva crying to herself, and also Percy. It was for sure Saeva never cried, and from the stories Thalia had told her about Percy, he never did, either.
They approached the door. Zana recollected herself, so that she wouldn't cry in front of everyone. Chiron slung open the door and they all five filed in.
A satyr and a large girl sat at a table, they sat across from each other, and as Chiron and the children rushed in, they stood up in unison.
"Thank the gods!" the satyr praised, and made his way towards us. The husky girl followed. Zana recognized the satyr from when she lived at camp. His name was… Gus… Gary…Grover! That's right, she remembered him as Grover the satyr.
But Thalia had told a story about him. Something Zana hadn't known. Grover was the skilled searcher who had found—and almost lost—both Percy and Thalia.
"Where are the other campers?" Chiron demanded.
"In their cabins…just as you told them." The husky girl said. Chiron glanced at Zana and Saeva.
"Uh… Zana, Saeva, you should both know Grover—" The satyr smiled shyly. "But you were both gone when Clarisse arrived at camp." He gestured to the husky girl, who, given a closer look, had some rough-looking features."Zana, Saeva, this is Clarisse of the Ares cabin, and Clarisse; these two young ladies are Saeva and Zana of the Hunt.
"Nice to meet you," Saeva said, her voice still broken from crying, her blond hair matted against her head with rain-water.
"Yeah. Whatever," Clarisse answered. And that made it official, Zana had decided that she didn't like the Ares girl. "Chiron! You owe us an explanation. All you said before you left with kelp-for-brains and goth central over there was 'Emergency, tell the campers to stay in their cabins'"
"Yes, well, have a seat; everyone in this room is now a part of an emergency meeting." Chiron said, directing the students to a long table at the head of the room.
They all took a seat at the table, leaving many open chairs. Zana folded her hands across her chest and focused on not crying in front of everyone.
"Well…Grover, Clarisse, there's no easy way to give bad news… the gods have… we've lost this war." Chiron said.
"How? There was no war!" Clarisse argued. She hadn't quite realized what Chiron meant.
But Grover did.
"Chiron…are you saying..?" Grover touched at the subject, eying Percy and Nico.
Chiron nodded. Grover grew pale.
"What?" Clarisse demanded. She looked from Grover to Chiron. A wave of realization crossed her face. "Dead?" She asked. "All of them?"
Chiron nodded again, and looked to the floor.
"My father?"
Silence.
Saeva broke the silence. "We can't take this sitting down. We have to revolt."
"Exactly," Chiron said, nodding in her direction. "We need a plan."
"But what?" Zana asked.
The door to the Big House swung open. Three figures appeared in the doorway, shadow covering their bodies. Rain spilled on to the wooden floor.
The figures stepped in.
The first to come to Zana's eye was a boy, about sixteen, with jet-black hair and electric blue eyes.
"Troy…" Zana growled quietly. She reached for the bow and quiver that was slung over her shoulder. Chiron put a hand on her leg, telling her to keep calm.
"Luke?" Grover asked with confusion. A boy, at least nineteen stood behind the girl. He had bags under his eyes and he was terribly skinny. He had stubble growing on his chin and upper neck. He looked sickly, as his eyes were clouded and cheeks bright red.
"Annabeth!" Percy cried with excitement. A girl, of blond hair like Saeva's stood in front of the boys. Her skin was pale from lack of sunlight, and was as thin as a rail. "But you're supposed to be dead."
"Are you disappointed?" She asked sarcastically, not even attempting a laugh. "Chiron, I'm sorry I brought these two…skum into camp. But as for the plan, I think I can help."
A/N Okay, so that's the first chapter. I don't want to hear any "This doesn't make sense." If you didn't read Thalia the Hunter.
But, if you'd like to read this one, and you haven't read Thalia, then just PM me and I'll send you a short summary of what happened in Thalia.