A/N: While writing this chapter I came to the realization that I've been calling Alana's two blades 'swords' when I actually meant 'knives' (they're based on ten inch hunting knives). It's probably not such a big deal, but I figured I'd let you know, since I'm going to be calling them knives from now on.
Chapter 9: Ancient Lands
We leave Rome that night, headed northeast. Without Percy, no one wants to brave the open waters, so we go over land. Mountain spirits, in league with Gaea and enraged by the children of Hades aboard, attack us constantly. Leo's idea of upgrading the Argo's weapons with the spheres he found in Rome has backfired; They cause more damage to us than to our attackers. There are more fights than ever now, sleeplessness and worry and despair setting us against each other. I do my best, stepping into the peacemaker role I was destined for, but I appear to be doing more harm than good. My own temper, one I normally never let show, has worn thin. Everything feels wrong, off balanced. The unity I'd seen those last few hours in Rome is gone. Jason, who has become the de facto leader, reminds us constantly that we have to push through, that Percy and Annabeth are counting on us. We have to make it to Greece. We have to meet them there.
Three days after Rome, I'm on deck with Nico, Hazel, and Leo during yet another ourae attack. Leo fires on of the new cannons, scaring them off, but the recoil takes out the already weakened mast. It topples to the deck, taking Nico with it. Hazel and I call out for him.
"Here!" His head pops out from under the canvas sail. "I'm okay." Hazel helps him up and I quickly scan the mountains for any sign of our enemy.
"Damn, that's the second mast I've had to replace," Leo reads off the rest of Festus's damage report, cursing occasionally in Spanish and Greek. We start on repairs, and eventually the sun rises, granting us a reprieve. Monsters are always most active at night.
Needing to do something, I pull a charm from my bracelet and let my journal grow to full size. Thumbing through it helps center me, I've found, and occasionally the passages of chicken scratch are actually legible. Most speak of things past, some as recent as last night. The language used is poetic and straightforward all at once. Fire shall forge the ship. The dove will earn the river's horn. Sea and wisdom shall fall into darkness. My sight grows watery, skimming that last line. If only I could have read this passage before, I could have done something. I eventually come to the last page I wrote, to the pen I stuck in to mark the place. There is no itch or burning desire to write, no pounding head full of future mysteries, there hasn't been for a long time. Maybe I've written all I need to know.
A cry calls my attention. Hazel's voice. "It's Arion!" Sure enough there is the dun colored steed, keeping pace with the Argo on the valley floor. "I think he wants to show me something." Hazel turns to Leo, a silent request to put the ship down. A spark lights in my mind, and I open the journal again.
A discussion ensues between the siblings about whether or not it's a trap, and Leo chimes in, siding with Nico. But Hazel is insistent. She trusts Arion.
"Hazel's right," I say, finally finding the right page. "She needs to go." With curious and doubting eyes on me I read a passage of prose from my journal. "Wealth will trade white sails for golden hooves and journey to a crossroads. One waits there, wreathed in Mist, to set her on the right path."
Leo slows the ship and drops a rope ladder, so Hazel can disembark. As we rise back to a safe altitude, Nico questions me, "You're sure this person won't hurt her?"
I glance down at my book, hoping more of the passage can be read, but there's nothing. "I know that we can't do this without her, which means that she has to come back. Other than that…" I slam the covers shut with a snap. I feel a whisper of heat and flicker of light blooms around my fingers. The power I used to fight the giants in Rome is awake now, reacting to my emotions. Anger, frustration, and fear all set it off, but so does joy, and laughter, and concern. I clench my fingers tight, not letting a whisper of the light be seen. Control is the mark of a good soldier. We might hurt someone if we aren't careful.
"Whoever decided prophecy was a gift is an idiot," Nico finally says, hoping to lighten the mood.
"You're telling me."
Nico takes a spot at the rail and watches for Hazel's return. Even if I had been able to reassure him completely, he'd still worry. She's his sister. Nothing can change that. In a way, I'm comforted by that fact. Gaea can't break all of our bonds. Love, family, these are too powerful for even her to destroy.
Hazel is back in about 30 minutes, by which time most of the others are awake. We hold a meeting on the deck, not feeling secure enough to leave it even with the sun keeping away the monsters. Hazel tells us about Hecate and her warnings and informs Leo of our new course.
I stumble down the stairs to my cabin, relieved that we now have a direction, a plan. Falling asleep is always a minefield for demigods, dreams and semi-visions appearing in our minds, but today I welcome it. Any snatch of information, any shred of hope will be worth it.
In my dream, the world is black-ish red. There are rivers of fire, rivers of ice, rivers that sound like the wailings of ancient mourners. There are monsters bursting from yellow boils and snapping at each other as they march downwards into darkness. But most importantly, there is Percy and Annabeth, alive, moving, fighting their way through the hellscape with the help of Bob the Titan and Mrs. O'Leary. They're alive, they're alive…
"They're alive!" Waking from the dream, I race down the hall and throw open the door to the Mess. "They're alive." I say again, voice cracking. Shock descends, and in a quick moment is shattered by joyous shouts. We had been hoping of course, but after three days… That doesn't matter now, because everyone is on their feet, screaming and laughing and crying and hugging. Jason and Coach Hedge finally manage to quiet us, so I can finish. I spin the tale, watching their faces fall when I describe Tartarus. "The situation is bad, but they're alive, and they have help. Percy and Annabeth are going to make it." With that declaration, there is a new energy around the table. Our friends are alive. And we are going to rescue them.
That night we approach the pass Hecate described to Hazel, we'll be on the other side by morning. A night watch is established, and Coach and I work our way across the ship, convincing the rest of the crew to rest. I have to forcibly drag Leo from the engine room and the Athena Parthenos, "Leo, get some sleep. I am not going to have you driving us into a mountain if you nod off at the helm."
"The statue is supposed to be the giant's bane, though. If it's some kind of weapon, we need to learn how to use it." He argues, even as I frog march him up the stairs to his cabin.
"Have you considered that it's symbolic? That statue is the cause of the hate between Greece and Rome. By reclaiming it, we're bringing the two factions together. Maybe that's how we win."
Leo slumps and retreats into his cabin, and I do the same. The next morning everyone, minus Piper and Coach, is having breakfast in the Mess Hall. Leo describes his dream and Hazel fits together the pieces from her conversation with Hecate. I check the passage from yesterday, and find that new lines have appeared: "The path leads on, and a test is demanded. A test for Wealth, a test of smoke and fire, a test of misdirection. Defeat the bandit and the witch will fall."
"Well that's encouraging." Leo says, mouth half-full.
"It is," Hazel says, a small smile gracing her face.
But before she can elaborate, the images of Camp Half-blood on the walls distort and are replaced by a grotesque face. The camera zooms out and we see the entire body of a small monkey like creature. Another wanders around deck, pulling out Leo's controls and taunting Coach and Piper, who are bound and gagged.
In an instant we are headed up the stairs. As soon as Leo open the hatch and steps up onto the deck a loud bang accompanied by a bright light knocks the crew down. I am at the back so I am less affected, but I am stuck under Frank in gorilla form. By the time the others wake up and get him off me, the dwarves are long gone. Jason and Leo give chase. Hazel and Nico untie Coach and Piper. And I am stuck with the 400 pound comatose gorilla.
"Why is it that someone always ends up knocked out?" I moan. "What do I even do with a gorilla? This wasn't in my training!" Nico and Hazel struggle to hide their laughter. "Oh, yes! This is very funny! Keep laughing and I won't fix you up next time." I half threaten, before falling into giggles myself.
Before too long, Jason and Leo return with our missing items, and a new destination. Venice.
When we arrive the next morning I notice Frank seems distracted and on edge. I come to stand next to him at the rail. "You okay?" Frank winces at the sound of my voice and shakes his head. I'm reaching for my first aid kit charm when something clicks. He's acting like I used too, when the twins were fighting. "Ares and Mars are in your head…" I mutter, looking at him in amazement.
"How'd you know?" Frank responds just as quietly, then pinches the bridge of his nose. "How do I make them stop?"
I show him how to apply pressure his temples, just under the hairline, to relieve the tension. "That should help with the pain… As for the gods, you have to find something they agree on. A common ground."
"Like what?"
I shake my head, "I dunno. But there has to be something. Ares changed the most from Greek to Roman, but it's still him underneath. Every god has a core, a belief or a trait that defines them, no matter what form they're in. For Apollo, it's light. Light from the sun, light bringing forth the truth, light healing the sick…" I glance down at my hands. I have Apollo's light. Used to heal and comfort. And to destroy.
Frank seems better that afternoon when he leaves with Nico and Hazel to speak with Triptolemus. They're gone for a few hours, and during that time another mess of illegible writing becomes clear. Actions of the chosen will reforge a pantheon. War will reunite old enemies and cleanse a city of invaders. The rest is still hidden from me, but I'm starting to understand that this quest may not just be about stopping Gaea.
The ring of the signal bello draws the crew to the deck near dark. Out trio has returned. Walking closer to them I hear Nico speak words that make my heart drop. "Alana, Hazel was poisoned." For the first time I see that Hazel is not walking under her own strength. The boys are supporting her.
"Is she okay?" I swoop down, in full medic mode.
"So far she's fine, but would you look her over? I don't exactly trust the medicine Triptolemus gave her." Nico helps his sister sit down and I quickly get to work. He and Frank refuse to say anything until I've assured them that Hazel is fine and just needs rest.
The other two quickly tell all that happened, forgetting to omit the more embarrassing parts in their haste. The crew gets a good laugh when Nico mentions he got turned into a plant. When they finish, I hold up my book and read out the passage, then met eyes with Frank. "Your actions on the bridge fixed the split between Ares and Mars."
"Is that why they were in my head?" He asks, not caring that the rest of the crew has no idea what he's talking about.
"Probably. There's more to this passage that hasn't been revealed yet." I say, running a finger across the ink soaked page. "What if we all have a trial like that? A way to fix the divide between our parent's Greek and Roman halves?"
"They'd stop fighting amongst themselves." Jason says in awe. "They could help with the rest of the Giants." I clutch my journal tighter, feeling relieved. I did something right.
Two days out from Venice, we wake to yelling and screeching. Hecate sent Hazel a little message via her polecat Gale. Her test would be soon. The block of scribbles in my journal refused to be read, so I couldn't give her any clues, but Hazel told me not to worry. "I have faith," she said.
The next morning the Argo comes under siege by a giant turtle. It quickly diables some of the oars, grounding us, then chased us into a narrow harbor and blocked the exit. We are in the middle of trying to come up with a plan when I hear a familiar whizzing sound. In one swift movement, I outstretch my hand and catch the arrow between two fingers, just inches away from Piper. The crew hits the deck, but I stay upright, tracing the arrow's path. On the top of a steep ridge stands a figure, who waves a bow over it's head sarcastically. I point him out to the others, and they stand. Frank takes the arrow from me and finds a message tied to it. He reads it aloud as I stare down the archer. We are being robbed and are to send two crew members to negotiate our surrender.
Hazel chooses Jason to accompany her. We watch as they follow the switchback trail up the side of the cliff. We can see their outlines next to the bandit, who moves suddenly. There's a crack and everyone looks down at the perfectly circular hole in between Franks shoes. The bandit shot at us. He's using us as leverage. The trio backs away from the ledge and out of view. We wait.
15 minutes later, Jason is flying back down with a woozy Hazel. I have to hold both Frank and Nico back to keep them from smothering her.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. I was just talking to Dad." She says, smiling. "I did it. He's whole. And he told me where the Doors of Death are."
Almost immediately, my hand starts to shake and pressure builds behind my eyes. Write write write write write… I dig out my journal and press pen to paper. For a while there is nothing my the movement of my hand, and the flow of ink. The pressure builds and builds, and heat starts streaming down my face. It hurts. It's not supposed to hurt. Not anymore. A foreign hand pulls my arm away from the paper, another takes the journal. There is white noise in my ears, my hand still moves, writing writing writing… and then nothing.
When I come to, I'm in the Med Bay. Well this is familiar. I sit up, feeling a little woozy, and scrub a hand across my face. It comes away flaked with red.
"Your nose started bleeding right before you passed out. Here," Hedge passes me a wet cloth so I can clean my face.
"My journal," I croak out. I have to see what I wrote, get answers.
"You sure, girl? After what happened?"
"Yes. Please."
Hedge nods and leaves the room, coming back with my journal. Beyond the door, I can hear worried voices. With the book back in my hands, I feel centered, whole. I flip the pages, finding my most recent addition. The page is covered in ink, shredded under the force of my hand. There are no words here, not even in that strange chicken scratch the rest is written in. It's an image.
"Did anyone else see this?" I ask in shaky whisper. This image of doom, of blood, of battle… There's no hope in this, none whatsoever.
"See what? It's just a bunch of scribbles. Right?"
I shake my head. We have to show the others. But this could break them. We will show them. Now. "Hedge, I need to talk to the others. Please."
A while later, we've all gathered in the Mess Hall, and I pass the book around the table. As it goes around, the crew's expressions fall lower and lower.
"What is this?" Jason asks.
"Percy. And Annabeth. In Tartarus." My voice starts and stops, then breaks. "I think they're dying."
"No. They're not." Nico pulls the book from Pipers limp hands and studies the picture closer. "I know this place. They're close to the Doors." He looks up, meets everyone's eyes. "This is good news."
"But look at them, they look like corpses." Hazel argues.
"A disguise. Not unlike your work with the Mist the other day. There are so many monsters down that deep, they must have needed it to sneak through." Nico reasons. I still have questions, but can't bare to voice them, not when the mood is starting to improve.
"So I guess now wouldn't be a great time to mention that Reyna isn't leading the Romans anymore?" Jason tries to make his transition lighthearted, but it just feels like another sucker punch.
"So who's leading them?" Frank is hesitant to ask, because we all know already.
"Octavian. He's calling Reyna a traitor, because she's following us into the Mare. There's a place she'll go, I'd like to leave her a message. It's not far." Jason goes on to explain about Split, Croatia, and how he and Reyna had always wanted to visit. He also mentions a scepter, belonging to Diocletian, which was rumored to be at the site. That seals the deal from Nico, who insists having it will help us through the House of Hades. Leo sets the course, and announces that we'll be there in a few hours.
Jason and Nico depart the ship early the next morning and leave the rest of us to our own devices. Some of us try to help Leo with repairs, but are quickly dismissed since we end up doing more harm than good. Waiting tends to make demigods jumpy, Coach would normally put us through our paces but he's down in his cabin.
Taking things into our own hands, Hazel, Piper, Frank and I decide to spar. It's honestly really fun, learning how to counter each style of fighting and discovering ways to mix them as we go along. Eventually my mind empties of everything expect my opponent and my two flashing knives. As I lose myself, I can hear music drifting in on a breeze. An old song I haven't thought of in forever. I suddenly wish I was back home in my cabin, or even in my room in Apollo's palace, where there was always an instrument in reach.
The instant I start to dream of music, I find myself flat on my back with Piper's knee in my stomach and Katropis at my nose. "You let your guard down," She says matter of factly, and helps me up.
"And you took advantage. That was a great takedown." I roll my shoulders slightly, feeling the sting of hitting the wood all over again. Roma starts scolding Greca for letting her mind wander, and I throw myself back into the practice. There will be a time for music when the quest is done and the world is safe, Roma says, acting superior. Yes, but there will always be another quest, another threat. If we give up the things we love to fight, is it really worth it?
Jason and Nico appear out of the mast's shadow a little while later. Having never shadow-traveled before, Jason drops to the deck like a rock. We call for Coach, and Piper and I attend to Jason, while the others try to get the whole story out of Nico.
"I told you already, Hazel. We left the note, talked to Eros, and got the scepter. Nothing else happened." Nico says, lifting the scepter as if to prove it. It's obvious several crewmembers what to know more, but the scepter starts to glow, cutting off all conversation. The black stone on top pluses with a dark purple light and a swirling mist formed around it. No one moved or breathed, seemingly transfixed by the scepter's power. In my ears, where there was music earlier, is now a cacophony of whispering angry voices. I step closer, wanting to touch the marble surface, to take the scepter and hold it in my hands, to use it to do terrible things.
A rag drops over the stone and the light stops. I shake myself, noticing now that the rest of the crew is holding me back, that Nico had retreated to the far side of the boat to get away from me.
"What the hell was that?" Leo asks. It was him who covered the stone, him who is now securing the covering with twine.
I realize too late that they want me to answer.
"Darkness." Coach provides, using a moniker to avoid drawing the presence back. The name he doesn't dare utter is Tartarus. "It feels threatened by us. It probably wanted Alana to destroy the scepter."
"But why me?"
"Maybe it's because of those light powers you used in Rome," Frank says, and continues on, stitching together a theory that sounds all too accurate. "Light and darkness are opposites, but can't exist without each other. They're united in that way. Maybe that makes you more susceptible to it's call."
"So how do we stop it from happening again?" Nico asks. In a way I think he's thankful this happened. Now the spotlight is off of him, and whatever it is he doesn't want to talk about.
"Maybe it was a one time deal? He," Hazel also makes sure not to say the name, "could use the scepter because you didn't have full control over it. Once you learn to master it, you'll own it, and he can't use it."
"Until then," Piper turns and leads me another 10 ft away from Nico. "You need to stay as far away from the scepter as possible. Just in case." Everyone nods in agreement and Leo volunteers to create a box that should neutralize the scepter's power so it can be stored safely.
It turns out that keeping my distance was easier said than done. The Argo, while being over 200 ft long, is still quite small when you factor in how many people are onboard. I try my best, but occasionally Nico and I will bump into each other when he has the scepter. The voices don't make another appearance, thank the gods, but we're careful nonetheless.
Days pass on the Mediterranean. The sea has become choppy and rages against our trireme. Watches are cold and often result in someone getting drenched by spray. Even below deck, the chill is impossible to escape. The only warm space is the engine room but no one dares go in there without Leo (just in case they touch something and it explodes). I am walking up to the deck when a shot of cold freezes over the hall and cabins. I stand in the middle of the hall, steaming in the frosty air. The light has sprung forth again and protected me.
Hearing more footfalls on deck than there should be, I dart towards the nearest cabin and wrench the door open, hoping that it's occupant is unfrozen and battle ready. But Hazel lays in bed, covered in a thin layer of ice. I have to defrost her and the others, assuming they're in the same state. With the threat of hypothermia and frostbite, the fight on the deck will have to wait.
Praying, I gently pull on the liquid gold flowing in my veins, keeping me from freezing. Please, let me be able to help her. My hands are warm and glowing as I lay them against Hazel's face and chest and moving outwards. The ice steams up, leaving Hazel unharmed. She wakes with a start and I explain the situation. She heads for the hatch to listen, turning back to mouth 'Khione'. I nod and hurry to defrost the others.
Everyone gathers near the hatch, still shaking with cold, but alive and moving at least. Frank reaches for the hatch and an echoing boom sounds. The wind starts howling as everyone is throw to the side of the hall. We brace ourselves as best we can, waiting for the winds to stop.
The hours after the attack are a little fuzzy. I used too much power too quickly defrosting everyone. Jason was the worst, encased in ice almost an inch thick. I remember Piper talking about the Boreads, how she and Leo had held them off, and the spherical wind bomb that blew us so far off course. I remember looking for Leo and the appearance of a horse made of red sand, then nothing.
When I woke next, we were guests of Auster, the Roman South Wind. As you know, we spend several days here, repairing the ship and bargaining with Auster and his Greek counterpart, Notus. Surprisingly, not one person thinks that Leo is completely lost to us, just missing. It was almost as if we couldn't stomach the thought of losing someone else.
After about five days, Jason works out a way for us to leave. Unfortunately it is incredible dangerous. Sand venti, lassoed to the bow of the Argo, what could possibly go wrong? Just speaking from experience that answer would be: a lot.
We are ordered below decks as Jason pilots us in to the Mediterranean. Piper sits on the stairs below the hatch, waiting for Jason to say it's alright to come up. I join her, fingering the first aid kit charm on my bracelet. Just in case. Soon Hazel and Frank are also there, waiting and providing support. Though the situation isn't the best, it's moments like this that I like the most. Moments were the bonds of friendship grow into something more. Even Nico, though he keeps his distance, is affected. He sits on the lowest stair, squeezing his sister's hand. Hours pass but we remain there, waiting for Jason to call out to us.
Finally the roaring of the winds quiet and Jason's voice rings out. "It's OK guys!"
We trip over each other to get to the door, bursting out in a flurry of limbs and heads. Though we land hard on the deck, recovery comes quickly. We all stand and surround Jason. Piper places a kiss on his cheek and I treat the burns on his arms. The others look around for a landmark or an enemy. The island we're moored near seems to be quiet popular, with many other boats in the harbor and lots of people on the shore.
"Look there!" Hazel calls out. One boat among all the others stands out. A small wooden raft, covered in wiring and shiny bronze.
We all share a glance, smiling, "Leo."