My family is my strength and my weakness.
-Aishwarya Rai Bachchan
"So you are quitting your job as a teacher right?" Nico smirks, as he pulls the grate off of the manhole behind the middle school. He tries to rush; it's midnight. New York's 11 pm curfew calls for tighter security than this demigod is used to and it's not like he has a lot of time anyway. The war council should be starting soon.
"You bet your ass. Since I started teaching, I realized something: I don't like children." Both of them slip in the sewers unnoticed.
"Neither do I," he smirks, watching as she touches the surprisingly clean tunnel walls. "You can thank the fleece for that," Nico tells her, as if reading Rachel's mind. If there's one thing they snatched up before Camp Half-Blood was blown to rubble, it's that.
She nods, staring at the wall. Rachel licks her thumb, rubbing the dust off of a small symbol etched in the stone: a ruined Delta.
"This is part of the Labyrinth?"
Nico ushers her to keep moving. "It used to be. When Daedalus was killed this part wasn't destroyed. The entire foundation of New York City would have crumbled if it did. And what little we couldn't restore, the Fleece fixed it up for us."
She purses her lips. "Is there any reason the Rebellion chose this hideout to hold a war council near a middle school?"
"There's a forty percent chance the Titans won't wanna blow up a high school full of innocent mortal children. What happened with Lydia? That's proof they haven't entirely won the mortals' trust. No trust equals no burnt offerings. The offerings and sacrifices and festivals are what keeps the Titan's strong."
They stop talking for a while, listening to the creaks of the sewer. A golden light leads them to the end of the tunnel, straight towards a metal door. Nico puts a finger to his lips, warning Rachel to stay quiet. He bangs on the door.
The door is all but ripped off its hinges and they find two mean-looking guns pointed at their foreheads. Rachel pales.
Nico rolls his eyes. "It's us, Clarisse."
She shrugs. "You can never be too cautious."
"You're just looking for an excuse to kill someone with those things," he tells her.
Clarisse steps aside, allowing them to enter.
Rachel expects a little hole in the wall, maybe a handful of demigods looking worse for wear. But the word room doesn't even seem to cover this place, which is larger than her parents' condo in SoHo (and that's saying something). At least a hundred television screens dominate the walls. Athena kids tap wildly on keyboards, speaking in hushed voices to their headsets, eyes glued onto their laptops. And this is only the second floor. From here Rachel can spot the metal stairs, leading gods only know where.
For a moment she feels guilty, buying into the Titans' propaganda of the Rebellion as lecherous little rats of little means attempting to destroy the wondrous new world order.
"Nico!" Malcolm calls from his own seat alongside his brothers and sisters. His expression is grim. "It's Connor and Travis."
Nico rushes over and Malcolm hands over his station to the son of Hades without complaint.
"Get back to work!" the son of Athena orders at the others who've stopped to watch Nico yelling into the headset.
"What's going on?" Rachel asks him.
"Connor and Travis Stoll," he says. "They went with this Iris kid Butch to free Iris from her prison; some dark, heavily secured cave in Death Valley. Normally we would've sent Thalia for a mission like this, with her immortal Artemis curse or whatever, but…" He dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, Travis and Connor insisted on accompanying Butch to free his mom. Now it's not going too well."
Rachel doesn't ask for further explanation. "Do you think they'll make it out okay?" she says quietly.
Malcolm snorts. "They're the Stolls. I'm sure they—"
"We've lost contact," Nico interjects, removing the headset. "See if you can get in touch with them. Has the meeting started?"
"Not yet," Malcolm tells him. "They're waiting for you and Annabeth…"
"I'm here!" they hear someone call, as a girl Rachel's age barges in and brushes past Clarisse. It takes Rachel a moment to realize its Annabeth. She's different now, stronger and taller, obviously, with helluva lot more scars. And her eyes, they're distant somehow, darker. No longer warm.
"What are you waiting for Nico?" she says sharply. "We're already late as it is."
Annabeth's cold gray eyes wander towards Rachel. There's no surprise at all, only dull acceptance. "Bring her too."
The three of them descend down the stairwell. They run through a smaller room crowded with Hephaestus kids (working away, crafting weapons of different shapes and sizes) and out into a narrow hall. On the right is a regular wooden door with a silver plaque inscribed with Greek words. Rachel's not sure how she knows this but she's pretty sure the plaque reads Meeting Room.
Annabeth throws open the door, marching in like she owns the place, quickly taking her seat at the full circular table. Nico takes the seat beside her, leaving Rachel to stand behind them.
Athena glares at the newcomers from across the table, hands clasped together. "Where are the Stolls?"
"Not here," Nico answers. "They haven't returned from their mission. We'll have to continue without them."
The goddess nods, continuing. "What about Katie Gardner?"
"Infirmary," Annabeth says in the same calm yet angry voice as her mother. "I just came from there. She has a fractured femur. Will Solace told me she won't be back on her feet until tomorrow at the earliest."
Athena exhales. "Exactly how many are in the infirmary?"
"Twenty."
"Casualties?"
"From the last three days?" Annabeth bites her lip. "Twelve."
The council is awfully silent. Rachel looks around the table, taking in some of the familiar faces from the Battle of Manhattan: Chris Rodriguez, Jake Mason, Castor, Phoebe, and Drew. Others she doesn't seem to recognize. They've probably done some recruiting over the past seven years.
Athena clears her throat. "I'm not going to lie to you. Things are looking bad. Very bad. Ever since Thalia's capture the odds haven't been in our favor."
"She was one of our best warriors," Annabeth murmurs. "And a decent strategist. Of course things are going downhill."
"Our numbers have been dwindling for a while regardless. This was just the last straw," Athena continues, ignoring her daughter. "We have one last solution. It's dangerous plan, but if executed correctly, it may work."
"I don't like the sound of this," Annabeth admits, twirling her knife. It's amazing she's managed to keep it in one peace after all these years.
"Can you let your mother finish?" Castor retorts.
Annabeth glares at him, throwing a glance at her knife. The son of Dionysus gets the message, shrinking back in his seat.
"Thank you Castor," the goddess says. "I don't exactly have time to waste and there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just come out with it then. We've been keeping a secret from you... Greeks for a very long time."
"Greeks?" They all say with a hint of confusion, like it should be obvious.
Athena nods and it's the most nervous they've ever seen the goddess. "There are... Greeks. There is also... an entirely different group of demigods as well. On the other side of the country, so you would never be aware of each other's existence…until now. I speak of Romans."
The room goes still.
"Romans." Annabeth clenches her fists. "We're supposed to believe that there's been another group of demigods this whole entire time? How?"
She lays her hands flat on the table, taking an unusual amount of time to study them. "You all understand a god or Titan can be in many places as one, correct?"
They nod.
"This is much of the same. When the fire of Western Civilization moved to Rome we, the gods, resided there almost as long as we ruled Greece. They worshiped us in different ways and for different uses - from there split personality developed, a Roman aspect we can slip into from time to time. We become more warlike, more united, more about expansion, conquest and discipline."
She pauses for a moment, letting everyone register this.
"Children conceived in our Roman aspect aren't much different from you. While you children are very much skilled in the Modern and Ancient Greek language, these demigods naturally speak and read Latin. Instead of training in Greek warfare, they study the fighting style of the Roman legions. So on and so forth."
Chris Rodriguez runs a hand through his hair. "So if these Romans do exist, why have we never come across each other before, like on quests?"
"You have, many times actually," Athena says uncomfortably. "It always ends in bloodshed, unfortunately, and always the gods do their best to wipe clean the memories of those involved. During the American Civil War, times were especially bad. While the North and South fought each other on slavery, Romans and Greeks also fought amongst one another. The gods were horrified on the toll it'd taken on their children so they wove the Mist so thick it'd be nearly impossible for your two groups to meet.
"Of course, your rivalry goes all the way back to the Trojan War. The Greeks invaded Troy, burning it to the ground. The Trojan hero Aeneus escaped, and eventually made his way to Italy where he founded the race that would someday become Rome."
"And the Romans hated the Greeks," Annabeth says anxiously, twirling her knife on the table again. "They took revenge by conquering the Greek isles, making them part of the Roman Empire."
"They didn't hate them, per say," Nico speaks up. "Romans admired Greek culture and were envious. In return, the Greeks considered Romans barbarians but they respected the nation's military power."
"Yes," Athena agrees. "So during the times of Ancient Rome, demigods began to divide. You had to choose: Roman or Greek. "
"And it's been that way ever since," Annabeth guesses. "But if this is all true regardless, where were the Romans during the Titan War? Didn't they do anything?"
"They tried their best, just as we did," the goddess says with a somber edge. There's a brief moment of silence before she continues. "While you and Percy were leading the battle to save Manhattan, they attempted a sudden strike against Mount Othrys. They almost succeeded too… but then we failed. A warning was sent out to have them flee the Titan's palace. With the arrival of Kronos at full strength, none would have lasted. They escaped before capture and went into hiding."
Annabeth's eyes seem to flare, as if trying to put the pieces together. "The Bay Area. We demigods were always told to stay from it because Mount Othrys and the entrance to the Underworld were there. But that's not the only reason. The Roman camp. It's there too, isn't it? Probably somewhere near San Francisco? I bet it was put there to keep watch on the Titan's territory. Where is it?"
Everyone gives her an exasperated look. "In due time, Annabeth," says Athena, placing her hand over her daughter's. "Believe me, I will tell you the location of Camp Jupiter…but there is more. A part of I have failed to tell you."
They all wait in anxious silence. What more could there be?
Annabeth rips her hand away, searching her mother's gaze for an inkling of what she's about to say. But no one, no one, can predict the next words to come out of Athena's mouth.
"When Perseus lost to Kronos… many thought he was dead. A select few believed him to be alive, imprisoned on Mount Othrys. Both accounts are wrong."
Silence settles. Some glance at Annabeth who leans over the table, scowl deepening into something truly horrifying. "What are you talking about?"
Athena glares back, unflinching. "Percy is alive. Confused, but alive."
Her mind races attempting to solve this last piece of the puzzle. "He's there isn't he?" Annabeth says finally. "At the Roman camp?"
Athena hesitates for a moment. "Yes."
Annabeth smiles in disbelief, a grin on the verge of insanity. She makes a move to say something, but just shakes her head instead. She gets up from her seat, making a beeline for the door.
"Annabeth…" She trails off at the sound of the door slamming. The goddess stands too, also heading quickly for the exit. "Di Angelo, conclude this meeting."
The son of Hades blinks, "I-um…" She doesn't give him much of an option before she's also out of the room.
Annabeth doesn't get far. She only rounds the corner before coming face to face with her mother and already she has her arms crossed over her chest. "When where you planning to tell me? Tell us?"
Athena only stares, her face settling into that of a statue. Something distant and inhuman. "I didn't know how to tell you. Up until a few months ago I didn't even—"
"A few months ago," Annabeth murmurs.
She blinks. "What do you want me to say, Annabeth?"
"Nothing...just please leave me alone."
A week in a cell and Thalia drives herself insane. Some part of her wonders if this is some insane nightmare, that if she pinches herself hard enough the dark walls of Mount Othrys's prison will melt back into reality. That she'll be back with Annabeth and Nico, fighting against the impossible.
Nothing but a childish dream, of course.
Thalia tucks herself away in the corner, an absent stare on the dull, cement-colored walls.
happybirthdayhappybirthdayhappybirthday
Thalia Grace is sixteen - feels like a hundred - and she can't bring herself to plot or move. Most would - Annabeth would. But Annabeth was never given immortality, only to lose it through an idiotic mistake. Annabeth would never make it Othrys in the first place.
Locks click open and Thalia panics, afraid they've finally come for her. The Celestial Bronze door opens and she cringes at the blinding light that fills the room. Her hands fly over the floor of the prison, trying to find some sort of sharp rock to stab the intruder with. Marriage to Kronos? Over my dead body.
"Thalia?"
Arms pull her to her feet. The light, she realizes, is nothing but a small torch.
Thalia tries to speak but she's too stunned; she knows the voice all too well.
"Thalia, answer me," the voice pleads, a familiar face coming into view. "I need to know if you're all right.
"Artemis," she breathes, immediately gripping onto her goddess. Thalia's nose attempts to take in her scent; the wild. Thalia can smell it so clearly now, the woods, the fresh air. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"
Silver eyes sadden. "This anything but a dream, my dear. A nightmare come to life perhaps."
And not just for Thalia.
Not that it registers. She's waited so long, seven goddamn years to hold Artemis in her hands again.
Pain flickers across his face. "Kronos… why does he keep you here? Has he…" Thalia trails off, unsure what to say. Has he done the same to you that he plans on doing to me.
"No," Artemis says quickly. "Gods are hard to change and Kronos still fears prophecies too much to lay a hand on me. He keeps me close though; I am rarely able to leave his sight."
"You're a decoration then." It comes out more bitter than she intends. Things can be worse though, she tells herself. Much, much worse.
"I suppose you could say that. But I am not the one you need to worry about, Thalia Grace." She studies the lines of her lieutenant's face. "There are rumors circling on Mount Othrys that... he refuses to confirm them. I know he wants me to suffer and that I'll be punished for trekking this far into the dungeons. But I had to know for myself, what was truth and what was falsehood."
Artemis doesn't need to say anything else. Thalia already knows what she's referring to.
A week from now, daughter of Zeus, you will acquire the honored title of wife. My wife.
"It's true." Thalia starts to shake. In truth, she hasn't thought about it much until, not really. Still doesn't want to. "I don't have a choice," she whispers in a raspy voice. "I don't know what to do, my Lady. I can't-I can't escape him. Not this time."
For a moment they don't say anything to each other. Artemis just holds her tight and it's all Thalia could ever ask for. "There is nothing you can do," she tells her finally. "I will come for you tomorrow. Let us hope the Fates are in your favor."
The goddess leaves, the door locking behind her and Thalia has to tell herself over and over again, Not a dream. She only believes it when she falls asleep and the real dreams come to her.
Thalia stands on a cliff face, watching the final moments of a sunset. It's a peaceful setting, one that seems to calm the fluttering emotions inside of her.
"They'll be here by dawn."
The voice makes her jump. Two people in armor stand off to the side, watching the sunset as well. For a moment, Thalia's confused on how she didn't notice them before. Of course, they don't spare a glance in her direction.
"I know."
She freezes, staring intently at the two newcomers. Both of them are familiar… too familiar. The one to the left is older than the other, a man, garbed in gleaming gold armor. His eyes are blue, clear like the sky itself. Yet they're cold, distant, disciplined. In his hand is a long staff, two snakes entwined around it.
Hermes.
"Are you ready to face them?" the god says, his voice much harsher than she remembers.
The other man is much younger, in his early-twenties. His face is familiar, that much is clear. Thalia tries to make the connection but it's hard as she finds herself staring at his strange purple shirt, covered with a bronze breastplate. Then there are the marks on his arm, five lines like a bar code etched into his skin. Above is the image of stallion along with the words: SPQR. It feels so wrong to Thalia. As if none of it belongs. She fights the strange urge to rip off his shirt and hurl it over the cliff.
"I can't remember their faces," he says almost strained. "I know their names, I can hear their voices constantly…but I can't see them."
His face. Thalia tries to concentration on his face. Then she sees them; his eyes. Sea green, just like the ocean.
"Percy?" she says aloud, testing her voice.
No one hears her.
"Hermes, what if they don't remember me?" Percy asks, his eyebrows scrunching together. It's a valid worry, considering it's been seven years and Thalia could hardly recognize him.
"I go by Mercury here," the god corrects. "Never forget that, Jackson."
He sighs. "I apologize, my Lord."
Hermes, Mercury, nods. "Don't worry. You aren't that forgettable. Chances are, they have missed you more than you have missed them. Trust me."
The scene changes.
This time, Thalia's walking. Redwoods stretch out before her, towering above like skyscrapers. But she isn't alone. She walks with a small group of no more than ten people, all of them garbed in armor. Most of them are familiar.
The Rebellion.
Annabeth leads the party through the forest, a determined look in her gray eyes and bruise-like shadows beneath them. She hasn't slept at all and Thalia has the urge to scream at her for being such an idiot. Thalia might be gone but the last thing Annabeth needs is to overwork herself. To take on this burden alone.
"Rachel," she says, "How much farther?"
"Another eight hundred meters," the brown-haired girl at Annabeth's side murmurs. "They'll be waiting for us in the clearing ahead."
"Thanks, Rachel," she murmurs.
"Be on your guard," Annabeth tells the others. Nobody argues with her.
They come through a break in the trees and it's eerily silent. No noises, no movement. They've become wary of quiet surroundings. Annabeth walks slowly ahead, giving them a silent warning to stay back.
"Annabeth!" Rachel suddenly warns. An arrow out from the underbrush, whistling straight past Annabeth's face. It embeds itself into the bark of one of the taller trees with a thunk.
Annabeth's eyes flare as she grips the hilt of her knife. Warriors in gold armor slip out of the woods, weapons drawn and ready. The Greeks automatically reach for their own but a girl's voice echoes across the clearing.
"I wouldn't do that."
A girl, slightly younger than Annabeth, steps out from behind a Redwood. She adjusts the golden bow slung over her shoulders. Dark, expressionless eyes survey the remnants of the Rebellion, not in the least impressed.
"You're early Greeks," she sighs, as if wishing she could be somewhere else.
"Who are you?" Annabeth questions firmly.
A shadow of a smile paints her lips. "You don't remember me…?"
Annabeth's eye twitches. She tries to put the pieces together, to fight against the fog in her brain… trying to remember the face… "Hylla?" she says finally.
"You were close. Reyna," the dark-haired girl answers coldly. "Praetor of the Twelfth Legion. I am your escort to Camp Jupiter."
"Well then do your job and escort us, Roman," Annabeth replies with equal malice. "Instead of wasting your time pointing weapons at my men."
Reyna smirks. "I've been warned to take extra precautions with your kind. Lord Mercury tells us you're… temperamental."
She scowls.
Rachel cuts in before the tension can multiply. "We should hurry. Many demigods attract an awful lot of monsters."
"I couldn't agree more," Annabeth says curtly.
Thalia doesn't get to see what happens next: she only hears a voice hissing her name, beckoning her back to the realm of the living.
"Thalia!"
She lunges out blindly, instinct taking over. Before she's even fully awake, Thalia has the intruder pinned to the floor, trying to crush their windpipe. The person pushes her off with as much strength as they can muster.
"What the fuck, Thalia!"
She scrambles back, her mind grasping for a quick analysis of whatever's going on. Thalia blinks a couple of times. "Nico?"
"No, it's the fucking tooth fairy!" he snaps. "Gods, maybe you should check to see who you're choking before you're fully conscious. If I was a Titan you would be dead already."
She almost laughs at that. She doesn't really have the courage to tell him the truth, that there are some punishments worse than death. "What are you doing here?" Thalia demands. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"Maybe," he retorts. "So are you coming or what?"
Thalia gapes at him. "How did you get here?"
Nico rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "It wasn't easy, you know. I had to go to Triple G Ranch, steal one of Apollo's cows, and lug it to California. Hellhounds were guarding the servant's entrance. They saw the cow, started chasing it and what do you know? Here I am."
Obviously, it wasn't that simple. But Thalia doesn't make it a point to pry. Angrily, she shakes her head. "You shouldn't have come for me. You shouldn't be here."
He raises an eyebrow. "If you don't want to leave, that's okay with me. I'll just shut the door and—"
"Nico?" she interjects.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
