I don't own Percy Jackson or the Inheritance Cycle.
Chapter Ten: The Cave
(Murtagh Point of View)
He hadn't been able to focus the whole day. No matter how much everyone had tried to calm him down, he wasn't able to, and he wasn't able to focus. If this was what being a priest of Apollo was like, he wasn't sure that he liked it. It was a curse!
As they tried to calm him down, all throughout the day, he was refusing. His king was going to die!
Later on, Oromis came to him. Eragon was also there. The were in his tree house, and Oromis sat down on a stool in front of him, concerned. "You mentioned a dream?"
As he looked into his master's eyes, he noticed how concerned the man was. Murtagh nodded. When he realized his ebrithil wanted him to explain, he told everyone, "That cave that Percy wants to go... I think there's something bad there. I saw... I saw..." And he choked, not sure how to explain it.
Closing his eyes, he explained, "I've had dreams before of things, and then they happen. I saw this smoke, in this dream, and it was something evil. It choked him to death."
He purposefully left the part out where Apollo had told him that he'd claimed him as his priest. He wasn't quite ready to confront that. But he was beginning to think that it was inevitable.
A thoughtful look was on everyone's face, and the extremely worried expression on Eragon's face didn't escape Murtagh. "Whatever it was," Murtagh explained. "It wasn't natural."
Oromis wasn't sure what to think. Thorn, who was down below, touched his mind. 'Who's to say that it will happen, though?'
'Does it matter?' Murtagh snapped. 'Like I said, not one of my predictions has yet to fail.'
At that, Thorn was silent.
Anaklusmos was next to contact him. But, she was thoughtful. 'I was created by the ocean,' she reminded him. 'I've been exposed to many demigods and legacies. Sometimes... prophecies are not always what they seem.'
'Mine always come true!' Murtagh snapped.
'Yes,' Anaklusmos acknowledged. 'But, I've seen even in Percy's mind prophecies. They always come true, yes, but not always in the ways we expect.'
Glaedr had been listening in, and he seemed to be considering things. At this moment, everyone's mind was connected. 'What are you saying?' he asked the sea dragon.
Drawing closer to Thorn physically without realizing, and wrapping Thorn with her wing as she was bigger, Anaklusmos explained, 'There are still the words of the prophecy. If Percy dies, he can't be crowned. But the prophecy guaranteed it. I have no doubt that Apollo was trying to communicate something to Murtagh, but that doesn't mean that he was communicating something literally. Sometimes, with the perspective of time, we'll understand in our entirety what Apollo is trying say.'
Murtagh wasn't sure about this. 'Mine always come true!' he explained, desperate to make them see sense. 'Quite literally! He's going to die!'
'Let's wait,' Anaklusmos proposed. 'Perhaps there is more to this than meets the eyes.'
'It's not like it's symbolic!' and Murtagh was sure. 'It's going to happen!'
Oromis seemed to put some thought in, and for a moment he was exchanging conversation between him and Glaedr alone. Finally, he turned back to Murtagh. "Let's wait, shall we? Perhaps Anaklusmos is right. Perhaps only time will tell whether it should be taken literally or not."
Upset, not liking that he wasn't taken seriously, Murtagh clenched his fists. "It will happen," he muttered, and he was really worried. Percy wasn't coming back.
Eragon placed his hand on Murtagh's shoulder. He knew what Eragon wanted, to distract him.
"Let's do some training, okay?"
(Percy Point of View)
Annabeth was lovely. His Annabeth was lovely. She was standing in front of him, gloriously dressed in armor, on her throne in her empire.
"There's been a lot of changes," Annabeth was telling him. The worry was evident in her eyes. "Ever since the Romans and Greeks have had peace, Camp Half blood has been accepting and gathering Greek legacies. But lately, there's been a surge to find more. For the first time ever the gods have been insistent that everyone with divinity in them be gathered and claimed, whether as the child or the descendant of a god."
She paused for a minute, in thought. "It's strange. Moreover, there have been rumors going around that it's for war. The gods are wanting the training to increase and they're insisting on us working together with the hunters, the Romans, and the Amazons, and others, coordinating tactics."
Percy felt guilty because he knew why. They were preparing for annihilation, but they were going to fight to the end to ensure that didn't happen.
Annabeth continued, intrigued. "It's just been revealed to us by the gods that all demigods and legacies are legitimately princes and princesses of the gods or goddesses we're children or descendants of. They've told us we're royal and that we're supposed to use our royal status from now on. Apparently, we were born titled, as royalty. It's unheard of! There's murmuring going on because we've never been told before! Although, it appears that the hunters and Amazons have heard this a bit sooner."
"Yeah," Percy admitted, scratching his head. "I was told," he finally admitted to his best friend and fiancée. "Because of the task they wanted me to do. They wanted me to use my princely status as a prince of the sea."
His fiancée was giving him a strange look, knowing that he was holding back. "It's causing some problems in the mortal world, Percy. The mist... it's failing... and we don't know why. Mortals are panicking. And the gods have started interacting with mortals again, demanding worship. Many mortals are already giving in, but now they've revealed their demigodly children and insist we and the legacies be treated as the royalty they are. It's straining for some who have lived in the mortal world without revealing what they are. Already, it's causing separation between us and the humans. Many demigods and legacies have retired to the godly realm because of all of this."
"The mist is failing?" Percy called out in alarm. He didn't see it failing in his land, but no doubt it was connected.
"Yes," Annabeth was worried. "In fact, it's weaker than before. The Olympians said they're funneling what little is left of it to other worlds." At this, she gazed pointedly at Percy.
Nodding, knowing that this was probably for his sake so that he could complete his task, and knowing that the gods had removed the mist temporarily so that the elves could see Ares, Percy knew that there was more he needed to hear from his brother. Triton hadn't told him everything.
Despite this, Percy decided to reveal a bit more to Annabeth. "Since Apollo has already chosen his next priest and currently has a priestess in Alagaesia, I told Eragon that when I became a god, though I used the term "if", I would make him my priest." He blushed a little bit at this, and Annabeth shook her head.
"Isn't he your vassal?"
"Yes," Percy replied.
"So, you're basically continuing that vassalage by making him your priest?"
"He has a good heart!" Percy defended him.
Annabeth burst out laughing, her head going back. Then she was serious. "I have yet to decide who will be my priests or priestesses when I become a goddess, let alone how I will set up my worship."
Percy was silent at that. It was getting time for him to leave anyways. At a look on his fiancée's face, Percy knew she knew as well.
"Stay safe," she whispered to him.
"You as well," Percy whispered back.
His eyes opened to a bright blue sky.
(Eragon Point of View)
Oromis decided to continue their training, despite the fact that Percy was missing. However, things were not smooth. It became dreadfully obvious that Thorn and Anaklusmos were growing closer, and the sea dragon was growing more comfortable around everyone, especially around Thorn. So comfortable was she growing that Eragon felt Saphira's jealousy grow.
She was seething. 'Just because she's the direct creation of the sea doesn't mean that Thorn can't pay attention to me!' Saphira was hissing through the link, watching as the two dragons curled up to each other, listening to Glaedr speak. But she wasn't paying attention, her tail lashing with anger as she glared at the two dragons who were too close for her comfort.
Eragon frowned, not sure how to address it. 'Is friendship bad, Saphira? At least Thorn will feel welcome and things will calm down some.'
Saphira turned to give him an evil eye. 'Am I to be left without a mate?'
Glaedr growled, and they both turned back to him. 'Pay attention, hatchlings!'
Saphira was instantly sweet. 'Of course! Why wouldn't I?'
Eragon couldn't help but groan, seeing where this was growing. Was she really going to try to win Thorn's heart by trying to make him jealous? 'Don't do this, Saphira!'
'And why not?' she snapped. 'I may not be a direct creation of the sea, but I deserve a mate!'
'Oh boy,' Eragon thought, red faced, and Murtagh glanced at him blushing when he saw Eragon's expression. They both knew where this was going. Both dragons were going to fight over Thorn. And poor Murtagh was stuck in the middle of it all due to the fact that he was connected to Thorn.
After all, the way how Thorn was looking so happy, the dragon probably wouldn't have minded. He would have been proud that two females were fighting over him. Especially since he had used to feel so left out of the loop, being bonded to the Son of Morzan. It would only give him confidence in his position. Only Murtagh would be embarrassed. He would have to be the peace negotiator. And, well, Eragon would be embarrassed as well, trying to get Saphira to see reason.
With a growl, Glaedr rose in flight, and the dragons followed. And it was then that Eragon noticed Saphira was flying unusually close to Glaedr. He knew he should probably have mentioned something to Master Oromis, but he was too embarrassed to say anything.
As he turned back, he noticed the elf staring at him. "Were you paying attention, Eragon?" Oromis was calm.
To his surprise, his brother baled him out as he blushed, instantly sending him the lesson through the mind. "One can instantly kill a man by severing a nerve in the middle of the brain. It takes no more energy than lifting a finger." With a deep breath, he explained how to do it.
Backing off slightly, Oromis nodded, but he was still suspicious, almost like he knew that it had been leaked to him. "Very well, Eragon. But I at least expect you to act like you're paying attention."
"Sorry," Eragon blushed again, sending his brother a mental thanks.
'No problem,' Murtagh mentioned, but there was also discomfort there, due to the tension between the dragons.
Suddenly, Eragon felt something across the link. Saphira was angry, and miffed. Murtagh stiffened as well, and Oromis had an unusual expression. Instant concern was on Eragon's face. "Saphira!" he stood up.
Sighing, Oromis stood up, shaking his head. "I think I know what this is about. Glaedr is angry at the moment, but you should go to her. And Murtagh should go as well. No doubt there is more going on than meets the eye."
It took a while for Eragon to convince Saphira to tell him where she was at: on the cliffs. And while Murtagh was busy finding Thorn, Eragon went to Saphira. To his surprise, there was a scratch on her, and no other dragons were around.
She growled when she saw him. 'What happened, Saphira?' he was instantly cautious.
The dragon lashed her tail angrily. 'He refused me!' Saphira finally answered, miffed. 'What? Am I not good enough because I'm not a direct creation of the sea?'
'Thorn refused you?' Eragon was cautious.
'NO!' Saphira snapped. 'The oh so great Glaedr, who has never had a mate in life decides that even though we're the last of our kind, he won't take a mate!'
Ah. There was more going on than met the eye. So, Eragon healed her and only then did he press further. 'Did you... try to mate with Glaedr?'
Saphira growled. That was his answer. And she'd been rejected.
Eragon sighed. 'It's not the most appropriate relationship, considering he's your teacher.'
'And now I'm without a mate!' Saphira snapped, growling again. 'Meanwhile, pretty-ocean-scales gets one!' And Eragon knew she was jealous. But how she had cornered him without the other dragons around, as he could tell had happened, beat him.
'You don't know that they're mates,' Eragon cautioned, and he knew it was only a borderline truth.
'Bah!' the dragon flapped her wings. 'You saw them so cozy earlier! It's only a matter of time!'
'And if they become mates, what then?' Eragon asked. She was proud, he new, but at this point, with the limited number of their species, it would only resort to competition. 'Come now, Saphira, don't you think it's possible that Glaedr also rejected you because he knows you're true objective? That you want a younger mate around your age? And that you're only using him to get Thorn's attention?'
Saphira growled, and at that point, Eragon knew that she wouldn't listen to reason. So, sighing, he enchanted wards around his legs and rode her bareback back to the crags.
(Murtagh Point of View)
It turns out, Saphira was in a bad mood when she got back. Apparently, she'd tried to couple off with Glaedr, though Murtagh suspected the real reason was to provoke jealously in Thorn. Somehow, Anaklusmos had convinced her and Thorn to fly off during the lesson together, (of course how could he tell the pretty dragon no, and Anaklusmos would have known that). And while Glaedr was busy trying to get his students in order, Saphira flew off as well, going the opposite direction. In an effort to track down at least one of his students, he'd gone after Saphira, she being the easier target since she was all alone. And... well... the ending had left Glaedr mad at her.
Anaklusmos was snickering, he could tell. That's when he suspected that she'd set Saphira up, knowing what the younger dragon would probably do. And, with a groan, Murtagh realized it had worked. While it was true that Thorn was elated to finally have some attention, and that both females liked him, at the same time, by Saphira going after Glaedr, it had only made Thorn and Anaklusmos closer.
He wouldn't have wanted a dragon who had tried to convince another dragon to be his mate, let alone tried to mate with him. True, Thorn was elated that he was the center of controversy, but it had made Saphira unattractive now in his eyes. Anaklusmos was faithful to him. And dragons only took one mate. That, and he'd always liked Anaklusmos more. But now, Anaklusmos had secured Thorn to her, and they both knew it. And, Anaklusmos had succeeded in removing a competitor. Thus, the sea dragon had accomplished her designs.
Anaklusmos had played a clever political game and won. What's more, she'd won a mate, if his judgment was sound.
Murtagh wasn't sure how he felt. He knew he should have felt happy for Thorn. But, he only knew that more problems would be in the future, due to Saphira's jealousy. That, and he wasn't sure how he felt about his bonded being romantically involved. Instead, he chose not to think of it.
Thorn and Anaklusmos were by each others sides, and Murtagh walked up to them, smiling slightly. Maybe it was for the best, that Thorn have a companion. Anaklusmos looked triumphant, but Thorn had a content look to his face. 'So,' he asked the dragons. 'Is it official?'
'Is what official?' Anaklusmos snapped, and Murtagh flinched. The dragon was easily offended.
'You two... aren't a couple?'
'NO!' Anaklusmos snapped. But she glanced with hesitation at Thorn. 'Unless, he wants...'
'Really?' was Thorn's immediate reaction, and Murtagh couldn't help but grown. He wasn't even six months yet. But he would be in a few months. 'You'd accept me?'
'Of course!' Anaklusmos answered in pride, acting like she was miffed that he would suggest that she wouldn't accept him.
At that point, Murtagh decided to step in. 'He's still a child,' Murtagh reminded the sea dragon. 'He's not even old enough to mate yet.'
'Doesn't matter,' Anaklusmos snapped. 'I can wait!'
That's when Murtagh realized: she was trying to claim him as her mate before he reached maturity, that way he was hers for sure.
'Okay,' Murtagh was awkward, not sure that he wanted to even think about these things. 'But in all honesty, we should go back to the lessons.'
He mounted Thorn and they went back to their teacher's house.
(Saphira Point of View)
'Pretty little sea scales,' Saphira was growling to herself, eyeing the too close Thorn and Anaklusmos, tail lashing. Glaedr was back but was refusing to teach, and Oromis was still trying to calm his dragon down. Saphira growled again, Eragon shifting uncomfortably. While he couldn't hear her thoughts he knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. 'Did you really think this was over?'
She was mad at Anaklusmos. That little sea rat! And she called herself a dragon?
It wasn't until Saphira had calmed down that she had been able to think through things. And it wasn't until she had thought through things that Saphira realized that she'd been set up. The little sea scales had made sure her advances to Glaedr were obvious to all. And now, she'd lost the possibility of a mate. She could tell: Thorn wasn't interested in her anymore. Maybe as a friend, but he wanted nothing to do with her romantically anymore. Now that she'd tried to mate with Glaedr, she was unattractive to him, an unsuitable mate. And Anaklusmos had known this was going to happen.
The little rat called sea scales was smug. She kept shooting Saphira a triumphant look. She and Thorn were now closer together and were snuggling. And though Thorn was still too young to mate it was obvious: they were mates.
Saphira growled. She'd been outplayed. While Eragon had reassured her that there was still time, that Thorn was not mature enough yet, and that she could still turn it around, Saphira knew otherwise. Her two legged companion didn't understand dragon ways. When the time came and Thorn was mature enough, he and Anaklusmos would mate. There was no way around it now. They were a couple. Thorn wanted nothing to do with her when it came to being mates. He Anaklusmos were official, as Percy would call it. For dragons, once you took a mate, you didn't go back. She had no hope to be with Thorn.
It irked her to no reason. 'Pretty little sea scales,' she seethed once more, discontent and unhappy. Anaklusmos was still looking smug, and she seemed to like throwing it into Saphira's face, not only that Thorn was hers now, but that she had a mate and Saphira didn't.
'Pretty little sea scales,' Saphira growled once more, laying her head down. It was no use. She'd lost the battle to the sea dragon. And, she'd been rejected of the only other mate she could have: Glaedr.
Eragon's mind touched hers. 'Don't worry,' though she could tell he was worried. 'I'm sure... there's someone for you.'
Saphira snorted. 'We're the only dragons, Eragon. I'm very well aware of my predicament.'
'What about the green egg?' he reminded her.
Saphira snorted again. 'If it ever hatches,' and she threw all of her doubt in. 'Face it, Eragon! I'm the loneliest dragon in the world!'
Eragon was hesitant. 'You have me,' he reminded her.
'That I do,' Saphira grunted.
At this point, Saphira observed that Glaedr and Oromis were arguing. Glaedr growled at his rider and his thoughts were broadcast to all. Wings spread, he growled, yelling, 'I will do nothing until these hatchlings learn to give proper respect!' He lifted off and was into the sky.
Oromis sighed, shaking his head. Then, he turned to his students, glaring at the dragons especially. But little ocean scales didn't seem to care. She seemed smug. She had a mate and Saphira didn't.
Oromis's thoughts were for all to hear. They were worded very deliberately. 'Perhaps it would be best if we had a lesson instead on respect.'
Eragon was frozen. Murtagh was wide eyed, blushing and clearly embarrassed, even though it was directed primarily to the dragons. Oromis walked closer to the group. 'I know that there are very few dragons in the world, and that it doesn't seem fair that some would miss out. However this doesn't change the fact that we are the teachers and you are the students. There needs to be some proper boundaries.'
His next words were directed at Anaklusmos, and he was looking directly at her. 'We all need to get along if we want to defeat Galbatorix. Alienating other members of the group helps no one.'
Anaklusmos growled at him, miffed. But Murtagh turned around and had a few words with her. The dragoness calmed down.
Oromis turned to Saphira and Eragon next. 'You would do wise to pay better attention to your lessons. They could end up saving your life. Worry about relationships later, please.' That's when Saphira knew that Oromis was including Arya into the picture, whom it was dead clear that Eragon had a crush on. Eragon seemed to pick up on this blushed.
Oromis walked up to Thorn. 'Sometimes, learning tact is better. We don't need to have others feeling left out. You should know what that feels like, considering what you've told me.' Thorn held his head in shame.
Finally, Oromis stopped in front of Murtagh, arms folded. 'Bailing others out by giving them the lesson not only is improper, but it doesn't help them learn. You are to let others learn on their own. Am I understood?'
Murtagh blushed and nodded his head, knowing that it was useless since he'd been caught. Oromis had known. He'd guessed correctly.
Next, Oromis looked at them all. 'Am I understood?' he asked the group.
'Yes, ebrithil,' they all acknowledged, reluctant.
Oromis nodded. 'Good,' and he sat down. 'I will be going over the old dragon and rider courtesies today for my lesson.'
Immediately, they all groaned and Oromis raised an eyebrow. 'What? Upset that you'll finally be learning some manners for once?'
There was grumbling, none the less Oromis began. 'I will be asking questions at the end of the lesson,' he warned. And with a glance at Murtagh, he added, 'I expect you all to learn of your own accord. No bailing anyone out.'
They groaned again.
(Murtagh Point of View)
He didn't know why Anaklusmos had taken Thorn as a mate so suddenly, but he thought he finally understood. The dragon had finally realized what she wanted, and was jealous of Saphira. It had probably happened when Thorn had taken her to Murtagh. They'd bonded over Percy and their worry over him, which had probably touched Anaklusmos enough to soften her heart and accept Thorn. So, she'd moved quickly. She was still in denial though, acting like she'd never been in denial that she wanted Thorn. She was a proud dragon, prouder than Saphira even.
Saphira was still glaring and growling at Anaklusmos in the middle of the lesson when Oromis had interrupted. "Enough!" he was firm. "Save your anger for your enemies!"
Saphira was still miffed, and Anaklusmos didn't look happy. Anaklusmos didn't like being interrupted in her smug reactions.
Oromis was red with anger. "If I am to teach a new generation of dragons and riders," he spoke slowly, voice controlled but with anger. "Then I will have respect."
That sobered them all up. Anaklusmos immediately stopped and Saphira set her anger aside for the moment. The last thing they wanted was to anger their teacher to where he kicked them out and refused to teach them.
Needless to say, despite some grumbling, they all set their quarrels aside for now. Not even Anaklusmos would taunt Saphira, even subtly.
Oromis kept an eye on them the entire lesson. When he was done, he promptly dismissed them, insisting that they stay away from him for the rest of the day. "I need to unwind," he said.
The knew they would be wise to follow his council.
(Brom Point of View)
Being back at the Varden was demanding. The council was reluctant and grumbling about his leaving, and while he understood, he knew where his priorities should lie. Needless to say, they had been causing him problems.
Jormunder was supportive, and was Trianna. However, many on the council were not. They were only allowing of him to be the leader because it was what the people thought best and they'd get complaints otherwise. That, and they definitely didn't want Nasuada. Plus, as the founder of the Varden, it was his right.
He knew their reasoning. He'd been traveling with Percy. He seemed to know Percy better. While they still weren't sure that he would work against him, they didn't want to take the risk of Nasuada, who probably would, and quite openly. And he had the right to lead the Varden since he had originally founded it. He had more claim than Nasuada did. The others knew that as well, and thus he was chosen.
Integrating the magicians was hard. They didn't belong to the Varden, per se, but they were allies. What's more, many were religious. Trianna supported him, but that was only because he had interacted more with Percy than anyone in the Varden. But the other magicians were wary of him, and without Percy's backing in the public light, seeing as he only backed him secretly, it couldn't be helped.
Knowing that he was going to eventually have to face religion if he wanted to maintain control of an organization that could fall apart, he decided that it would best be sooner than later. So, he sent the following letter around.
'I assure everyone that I won't go against Percy,' he promised in it. 'I am well aware of the prophecy and Percy's significance in it. I may not have grown up with religion, as a dragon rider, but I have been exposed to it, and I do respect it, and you're beliefs.'
There was some grumbling, but that seemed to do the job.
Currently, he was in the leader's study, going over some vital documents. He highly doubted that the Twins were the only traitors. It was time to ferret them out.
Then, there was the problem of Murtagh. The man still had yet to choose his side. While he couldn't outright say that the Varden had another rider, he could say safely that they had another potential alley. Murtagh had fought with them. But would he fight again?
'To decide or not to decide?' Brom thought to himself. He didn't want his stepson to think he was a puppet, because he wasn't. And then there was Eragon. He had yet to declare a side. He highly suspected where his son sided, though, since he seemed to follow Percy's directions. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He suspected, though, that somehow Percy had some sort of authority over him in his eyes. 'Probably because he views Percy as his king.'
Murtagh, his stepson, 'No, son,' Brom thought. He was Selena's, so as far as he was concerned, even if Murtagh didn't agree, Murtagh was his son. Murtagh seemed to be going through an unusual phase. When he'd asked, Percy had mentioned something. Murtagh was chosen by one of the gods to be a priest, but he hadn't been officially taken yet.
That complicated things. But, it also meant that it was highly possibly that he'd side with Percy rather than the Varden.
Leaning back, knowing that Percy had given his blessing to lead the Varden, (though it was in private, and much, much later after his appointment), he realized that he needed to make it good to the demigod. He wanted Galbatorix gone.
First things first though: he needed to make sure there was a succession. That way, if something happened, if he couldn't finish his work, then someone else could finish it for him.
His first thoughts were on Percy. And yet, the moment he thought that, he knew Percy would refuse again. His next thoughts were his own son, who had the right, by inheritance. But, Eragon was too young and naive. Then he came to Murtagh. Murtagh had more experience. However, would they accept the son of Morzan to lead?
Brom frowned. 'Technically, since I've taken Murtagh as my son, he is the firstborn. It would naturally be his right. Even if I let Eragon have the leadership, at least Murtagh could guide him.'
Both solutions posed problems, however. Despite proving himself, it might be harder for many still to reconcile the son of a forsworn leading them. And Eragon wasn't even ready. Even if he adopted Murtagh, it might stop recruitment, even if he had the heart of the Varden and was a dragon rider. Yes, it might be intriguing to many that the son of Morzan would side with Galbatorix's enemy, but there were still many who would be wary of him. So what to do? Eragon didn't understand politics yet and might make some hefty mistakes.
Shaking his head, regretting that he'd let someone else raise his son, he thought things through. But was this his only option?
That's when it hit him: there was no requirement that there had to be one leader. What if there were two?
Murtagh was the son of Morzan, even if he was adopted. That would hamper things. But Eragon's bloodline could fix that. As the son of Brom by birth, he would have the confidence of the people more. Eragon, should Murtagh say no to adoption, was the rightful heir of Brom, and thus the Varden. And, his bloodline wouldn't hamper recruiting. However, he lacked experience and was naive. Murtagh seemed to understand politics and could guide his brother, teach him even. And, he had experience.
And so, Brom did the first thing that the Varden had ever experienced in history: he appointed two leaders to lead simultaneously should something happen to him. Eragon and Murtagh would lead jointly and make decisions jointly.
He knew the boys could get along and he'd seen that they worked well together. It would be advantageous in every way for both to lead jointly.
"Yes," he murmured. "It's right."
He got started writing his will and his direction on the succession in the Varden.
That left the next problem. Say he survived. What was he going to do then? He may not be a dragon rider anymore, but he was still bound to the order, which was quickly springing up again. Thus, he would still have duties in this new order. He would be needed to train new riders. But how would things work once Percy was on the throne? Where would the riders go? What would Oromis, the leader, want to do?
Shaking his head, he decided to decide on that another time. There was no use thinking about that now.
(Vanir Point of View)
The godling still wasn't back. Whatever it was that he was doing, Vanir hoped he would be done soon.
the next day, following the tensions going around from the previous day, Vanir decided to head over (did Saphira really try to couple off with Glaedr?)When the riders and the dragons had gotten out of their lessons, he was curious enough to see what they would do. And so, he met them where Oromis was at.
Oromis didn't look to happy. But he could also feel the tension in the group. Apparently they were still tense, even after a day's break. Trading greetings with all of them, he noticed that the sea dragon was playing a rock, using her claws to manipulate it.
Tilting his head, he asked the dragon, "Why are you playing with that rock? What are you shaping it into?"
Oromis looked confused and puzzled. "Dragons knead dirt all the time. You know that Vanir."
Vanir turned back in confusion. "No, but why rocks? They don't play with rocks."
'There are no rocks,' Anaklusmos was confident, and Vanir looked at her in confusion, not sure why she would say that when it was dead obvious that it was a rock she was clawing at, chipping slowly away at it. Was she trying to form something with it?
Murtagh seemed confused. "But," he murmured, and when Murtagh did this, Eragon frowning, like he didn't know what to believe. "Vanir's right."
Feeling justified, he turned back to the elder rider who was still puzzled, but the dragoness seemed to be scrutinizing Vanir further. Finally, she asked, scratching at a stick further away, 'What do you see, Vanir?'
"A stick," both Vanir and Murtagh replied at the same time.
Oromis hesitated, shaking his head. "I see a mushroom."
Anaklusmos chuckled. 'Vanir and Murtagh are both right.' And with that, something happened and Oromis gasped, looking at the dragoness in surprise. Eragon looked more satisfied, like it all made sense now. But Vanir was confused.
Oromis looked up. Glaedr had pure surprise on his face. He'd been observing the exchange quietly, and as the turn of events grew more interesting, he studied the dragoness further. "How did you do that?" Oromis asked.
'The mist,' Anaklusmos responded. 'He is like Thorn and Murtagh. He can see through the mist.'
"Mist?" Oromis echoed.
Murtagh decided to explain more, surprised that his dragon could. 'Can all dragons?'
Anaklusmos shook her head. 'It's rare for every species. But there are always some. Like me, Vanir, Murtagh, and Thorn can see things as they really are. I can see through because I'm a direct creation of the sea goddess. Percy can see through because he's divine, and all those divine can. Percy taught me how to manipulate the mist. He said it might come in handy.'
'Mist?' Glaedr echoed his rider, looking interested. Saphira growled, no doubt because it was more that Thorn had in common with Anaklusmos that she didn't, but didn't say anything more. Vanir knew something must have happened between the dragonesses. That, and rumors had come around that Thorn and Anaklusmos had coupled off, much to Saphira's disliking.
'Mist,' Anaklusmos confirmed. 'It shields the ordinary from being able to see the divine things, especially clearly. It can disguise it as other things. Ares had to lift the mist so that the elves could see him.'
At this point, Vanir was stumped. "Well, that answers that question," Murtagh commented, dusting his pants off as he raised up off of the ground. "Arya was wondering if there were elves who would have that gift. Percy suspected there would be. Now we've found one. And why didn't anyone tell me about Thorn having it?'
'I found out this morning,' Anaklusmos was smug. 'I tried to manipulate the mist to play with him, make him see something that wasn't there. It didn't work. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why the two of you bonded so easily as you are both clear sighted.' And for some reason it seemed like she was subtly throwing a jibe at someone in the group. Saphira growled. It must be her she was doing it to.
"But why were you playing with the rock?" Vanir wanted to know. It wasn't usual dragon behavior, as far as he knew.
Anaklusmos got up and shook herself. 'Don't know,' she muttered. 'When I was young, there was more seashells and rocks than there were grass. I was raised on a beach.'
"Oh," Vanir replied, trying to be polite. Perhaps it was her way of adapting to a different environment. The dragoness was very interesting, being unlike any dragons he had heard about.
Glaedr seemed to be in thought. 'This could come in very useful someday.'
Already, Anaklusmos was gleaming, looking proud. 'It already has.'
(Brom Point of View)
They were currently in meeting. While the dwarves still wanted to house the Varden, at the same time the financial position of the Varden was not so good, and King Hrothgar and no intention of supporting all the rebels with the dwarves' wealth.
It was a headache for Brom. He'd known that the leaders that he'd appointed afterwords hadn't taken care of finances, but he'd never realized it was this bad.
Seated at the head of a table in a small room, Brom had left the council out of this, tired of them. He was only considering trusted advisors whom he'd just appointed.
Jormundur was on the list. He was looking at the cut budget, his figure upset. "How do you expect to fight a war without funding?"
"I was able to do it before," Brom was firm. "And we'll do it again. But, we will loose for certain without money. I've put some for now in investing, knowing that will increase the wealth eventually. However, that doesn't help us in the long term. Only industry will."
"And what do you have planned?" the military commander eyed him.
Keeping a straight face, not giving away his emotions, Brom admitted, "Trade with the empire has been difficult. However, there are still the elves and dwarves. And there's Surda. We've not been making good use of the talents possessed by the Varden. Those under the direct employ of the Varden aren't managing their posts or being productive like they should. The first thing I intend to do is fire those that are merely living for wages and aren't truly working. Then, I will hire only what is needed to produce. Then, we sell."
"Sell," another female councilor asked, unimpressed.
Brom was patient. "We've not been selling at the price we could. That's not doing us any favors. I intend to raise prices to where they should be."
"And when no one will buy?" was the challenge.
"They will," Brom was firm. "You have to remember, I managed the Varden's finances for years when I founded it, before I handed it off. That, and I was trained in business in Illeria. I know what to do. You have to communicate value, which I can."
"And then?" Jormundur pitched in. "When people are complaining because they're fired?"
Brom snorted. "Are you saying we should just let people take wages? No. Like it or not, even though the resistance is a force for fighting, we are also a business, and we have to act like a business. People will work, or they will not eat. The leaders have been soft for years. But softness doesn't win a war. Now it's time for people to pitch in."
"It sounds like you're already decided," another female councilor was miffed. "Why ask us here, then?"
"Because," Brom stood up, knowing that they were basically pulling a tantrum because he was changing the status quo. "You will be the ones to do the evaluations among those employed by the Varden directly. And you will bring a list of people who aren't doing their jobs for me to cut."
"I oversee the army," Jormundur pointed out. "Employment isn't in duties."
"It is now," Brom was sharp. "Besides, you have many who are employed to the Varden who are working directly under your command. From now on, people must work for their keep. And while you mention it, Jormundur, I want you to see that the weapon makers increase output of weapons. We can sell spares to Surda."
The council was grumbling now, but Brom didn't care. Part of being leader was making the difficult decisions, and that he could do. Looking over the council, having nothing more to say, he ground out, "Dismissed."
Everybody got up and walked out. Brom sat down and leaned back in his chair. It was going to be a long day.
(A couple of days later)
(Percy Point of View)
Percy continued to journey further and further on Blackjack. While he could still feel his dragon's emotions, and knew that something had happened, at the same time he knew that Anaklusmos wasn't in danger.
'Something wrong?' Blackjack asked.
'No,' Percy frowned, keeping his eye on the horizon. They had journeyed so far already. It was several days in and at the speed they were going, Percy knew they would be there soon. 'It's more like I know that Anaklusmos was miffed about something. Then smug.'
'What do you think about?' Blackjack asked.
Shrugging, Percy replied, 'It doesn't really matter, as long as she's fine. She can take care of herself.'
There was silence after that as Percy thought on what Annabeth had told him. The mist was failing. He had no doubt that it was being funneled to help him in his task. But wasn't that a risk, with the Titan? Would she be able to detect the changes?
His thoughts strayed to Brom, wondering how he was managing the Varden. Brom was a capable man, no doubt. He would be able to get things in order. But, as his thoughts went to the Varden, he snorted, thinking about how disorganized their military was. 'It's a wonder they've survived all these years. Even we Greeks are more organized than they.'
Briefly deciding whether he should teach them some demigod military tactics, he decided against it. 'Something on you're mind?' Blackjack asked.
'Just thinking,' Percy considered. "They're really different from demigods. They're not really organized in their military, for one.'
'No,' Blackjack agreed. 'They're disorganized and they have no discipline. But can you really blame them? None of them have been in the military.'
'They just need someone to train them,' Percy thought, in thinking mode again. He highly doubted they would be able to handle the rigor of demigod training tactics, especially since they were so deadly. Demigods and legacies could handle more. 'Then again, I don't really have the time to train them.'
'Then make due with what you have,' Blackjack suggested.
'They were never really made to fight things in the godly realm,' Percy considered again. 'That's what demigods and legacies are for. We are able to fight more difficult things.'
'So true,' the pegasus agreed.
It was lunch time, so Percy had Blackjack set down briefly. Then he pulled out his meal, a sandwich. Boy, how he missed these!
When he was done, he looked at the horizon. They'd been following the river which they knew would lead them to the cave, eventually. The cave was only a few miles away from the river, from what he could tell from Durza's memories.
Sending his thoughts in that direction, he thought, 'I wonder what we'll find there.' And he was worried. Blackjack, however, seemed grin.
'I guess we'll find out.'
(Brom Point of View)
The moment the firings had been announced, he'd been receiving complaints and backlash. He'd known it would come. But, he only had intention of keeping productive workers. The people who just lazed around and barely did anything, in essence, socializing, were the first to receive the cut.
"How will I provide for my family?!" one worker who had been cut had yelled at him as he was walking through Tronjheim.
Brom was firm. "Compared to the others, you made how many weapons? And yet you expect to receive the wages of those that work?" He knew exactly who this man was. The man was known for complaining about his work, if he did any work at all.
Brom then faced the man again. "There are lots of private businesses amongst the Varden. I suggest you seek for employment among them. Or, you can start your own business."
The man had thrown apples at him with fellow comrades whose jobs had been cut, but the bounced off effortlessly of Brom's wards. He walked away. They would be reprimanded later for their acts. But now, he had a meeting with the dwarven king in order to renegotiate trade. And later in the week, the King of Surda would be arriving under the guise of negotiating trade with the dwarves.
When he was invited in the stone room, King Hrothgar was already seated at the table. The king stood up and motioned for him to sit. He seemed rather amused. "I take it, if that racket was anything to go by, that that was one of the people that were cut?"
Brom nodded. "I understand him, in a way. But in all honesty, does he expect to do little and get paid?"
"Aye," the dwarf king agreed with him. "I've long counseled Ajihad that if he wanted to get finances under control, then he needed to cut people, preferably those who were less productive. But he wouldn't agree."
"It is a hard thing for some to do," Brom acknowledged. "Ajihad was a father. He pitied those who would be without work, and what they would do for their families."
"Aye," Hrothgar agreed, eyeing him carefully. "But you're a father to. And, in many ways, with my nephew, so am I. Yet we both could make the cuts."
"It is not easy, though," Brom admitted. "It is not without pity for them that I do this."
"But without hard decisions, no country, or rebel group will make it," Hrothgar was grim. He eyed Brom in satisfaction. "I was always upset when you gave the Varden away. I always saw you as the best leader."
"You have to understand," Brom pointed out. "I was a rider. I was trained by the elves and others in business. They knew many things, including money management."
"Indeed," Hrothgar was gruff. "They're tough traders. They know how to make a profit and a living. I seem to recall that the same was true of the human riders, due to the fact that the elves and their dragons were the ones primarily in control of the riders."
"Not enough time had passed for a human to get on the council," Brom acknowledged. "Even then, being trained with the history they were, I don't think it would have made much of a difference.
Chuckling, Hrothgar agreed, "No, I don't think so either."
"And so here we are," Brom led the conversation to where he was wanting. "Back at negotiating trade."
"Aye."
Hrothgar left it at him to open the deal. Considering, Brom proposed, "The Varden has rented many mines from the dwarves. Moreover, I am aware, that with the political landscape, that though the dwarves are excellent at producing weapons, at the same time, the political landscape is making it... hard... to manufacture weapons. So, my proposal is this. Instead of renting the mines, how about we buy the raw material from the dwarves instead? In use for making weapons and other needful things? In exchange, we take precedence in trade with Surda, since we are giving up raw resources."
"An interesting proposition," Hrothgar thought. He put both hands together, considering. "I can see how this would be advantageous for the Varden. It would reduce expenses considerably, as the dwarves are able to maneuver the mines better and output more raw resources than the humans can. At the same time, I think it would interrupt our own trade when it comes to dwarven made goods."
Brom had been expecting this, but this was just to warm the dwarven king up to his real proposition. Trying one more time, before revealing his real proposition, he offered, "Then a joint venture, perhaps? In the making of weapons?"
"I'll agree to revert the mines back to the dwarves for the production of raw resources, especially at a time as this," Hrothgar countered. "But, a joint venture is not my in my people's best interest either."
That's when Brom knew he would have the deal he really wanted. "Then perhaps, a trade off? The mines revert back to the dwarves for a slight reduction of the price of raw goods? Perhaps three quarters of the asking price? You can output more than we can, and you'll be selling more. Plus, since we're not able to come to terms in regards to Surda, it would seem only fair."
Once more, Hrothgar considered. He seemed to be calculating whether there would be a financial gain or loss. Brom knew the answer, but he also knew, when it came to trade, that he needed to make this deal seem more valuable, or Hrothgar might maneuver to where the deal was less advantageous for the Varden.
As he considered more, coming to the conclusion Brom wanted, he countered, "At seven eighths the price."
Brom considered. It was reasonable. And with having a more productive work force since he'd made it clear that he wouldn't accept slackers, getting raw resources at seven eighths the price would still allow room for a substantial profit. And, it was cheaper than actually renting the mines. This meant it was mutually advantageous to both the dwarves and the Varden.
"Very well," Brom stood up. "I accept."
Hrothgar smiled and stood up. "It's a pleasure to do business with you."
"And you as well," Brom murmured. He nodded to the dwarven king.
A contract was brought forth, and they both read the contract. After reading it, Brom was satisfied with it. Waiting for the king to finish, he saw that the dwarven king was satisfied with it as well. "I will sign," he grunted in agreement.
With both the king's signature, and Brom's, the deal was official.
Hrothgar led him out.
"Let's attend to war business."
(Percy Point of View)
They were close. That much Percy knew. Because of that, part of Percy's gut clenched, knowing that he was so near a Titan that perhaps the fact that he had human in him wouldn't be enough to conceal the Olympian in him.
Blackjack's ear twitched. 'I'm bringing us out of the clouds,' he informed Percy. Percy grunted his consent.
The last remnants of the river were seen below them, and it turned away to the left. Percy and his pegasus continued straight, looking for the tell tale signs of the cave.
At this point, Percy thought that it was pointless to be in the air. 'Plus, I need time to mentally prepare,' he told his steed. And so, he was set down.
They continued on land at this point, Percy ever vigilante, always looking out for some tell tale sign of Greek architecture, or perhaps ruins or something. However, nothing of the sort was spotted. All it was was plains for a fair amount of time. The smell of wild roses and other wild flowers reached his nose, telling him that this place was unnaturally in a spring.
He heard the bubbling of a spring beneath them, and that was when Percy began considering that perhaps they were closer than he realized. While he didn't see any tell tale signs of a cave, that didn't mean anything.
The flat land turned to hills, and the hills became rocky. The hair on Percy's neck stood up. They were close. Finally, straight ahead, he the rocks jotted straight up into the distance, becoming towering cliffs.
They took to the air once more to cover ground, Percy looking out for any opening in the rocks. But he didn't see any, puzzling him. 'Do you think it's hidden?' he asked his steed.
Blackjack neighed. 'There are trees below,' he pointed out. 'It's entirely possible the entrance is hidden amongst the rocks beneath the cliff.'
Percy considered for a moment whether or not he should land. But, after circling the cliffs several times, and finding nothing, (and there weren't that many anyways as it was like giant hill, Percy decided to land. Obeying, Blackjack landed lightly and they were in a trot, circling at the base of the towering rocks.
Circling the base of the rocks took an hour, and they found no entrance. Yet, this place matched Durza's description. Percy could tell the shade hadn't been lying. This was the place. So, why couldn't they find anything?
'Slow down for a bit,' Percy requested, and Percy leapt off the saddle, heading straight for the cliffs that towered above them. He felt the rock, knowing it would be unwise to use his power in such a place. It was soft and crumbled slightly before coming to harder rock beneath. Knocking on the rock, he heard no hollowness. Sighing, he got back on his pegasus. 'We'll just have to ride around again, see if we spot anything else.'
Part way through their circling, they came across some vines again, and Percy got out of the saddle. Feeling through the vines, he met nothing but hardness, until...
"Oof!" Percy exclaimed as he fell through the opening into a hollow entrance. Blackjack snickered and Percy glared. Sighing, he got up, dusted his jeans, and worked with his sword to slash the vines down. When he was done, dragging it out of the way so no one would trip, Percy realized that it wouldn't take long for the vines to grow back.
There was nervous apprehension in Percy's guts. He turned back to Blackjack, trying to hide his uncertainty. 'Stay here,' he told his old friend, and glanced into the black distance ahead of him. 'I'm going in alone.'
'Be careful,' Blackjack whispered to him with concern.
'Will do,' Percy promised. He took a deep breath in, let it out, and then uncapped riptide to give him some light. Then, he tentatively stepped into the cave for what was perhaps his most dangerous mission yet. Briefly saying a prayer to Zeus to grant him safety, he entered, his eyes easily adjusting to the lack of light and seeing further than an elf could.
Then, tapping his left wrist where a wristwatch was that housed his Greek set, he was clothed immediately in his Greek plate armor. He put the helmet, which had appeared under his arm, on his head. It was a gift from Tyson, who had made it in addition to his Greek shield watch which was on his other arm. He had a Roman pair as well, one wristwatch giving him the plate armor and the other giving him a Roman shield. He left the shield/wristwatch on his right arm untapped, deciding that if there was danger, he'd open his shield if need be.
It was nice to be instantly clothed in armor, having all the knives and necessary attachments already strapped to him. It also helped him psychologically, as it was something familiar in this unfamiliar place.
The cave was plain. A high ceiling towered above him, and the entrance, though round, didn't go beyond a few feet. Beyond that roundness was a corridor, or so it seemed, carved into the cave. Seeing there was only one place to head, he went to the back of the cave and entered the hallway.
It branched to the right and left. Knowing he didn't want to get lost, Percy used his sword to carve an X on the left side, opting to try that side first. Then, he continued down the entrance, into the unknown. A short time later, he carved another X, hoping that this wouldn't somehow disappear or anything.
The whole time, Percy couldn't help but be paranoid. The cave was creepy and let of a dangerous, unusual feeling. And as the cave grew darker, Percy's sword seemed to glow brighter. The whole time Percy continued down the tunnel, though he couldn't help the feeling that he was being watched. And Percy knew to trust his instincts.
The cave seemed to breath, as a breeze was always coming into his face. The walls narrowed, squeezing him in further and further. Finally, he could go no further, having reached a dead end. Sighing, he went back and went down the right entrance instead, carving an O this time. Then, he went a little ways in and carved another O.
This time, the wind was at his back. It made no sense. There shouldn't have been a draft. Then again, this cave housed a Titan, supposedly, so it made sense that there would be unusual and inexplicable occurrences.
Continuing deeper and deeper, Percy glanced behind him several times, making sure he wasn't being followed. But, he couldn't see anything. That still didn't make him feel any easier, nor did it diminish the feeling that he was being watched.
Eventually the tunnel turned to the right, and it began sloping. That's when Percy knew he was being led deeper and deeper. The elevation dropped and Percy grew colder. But, the padding that was underneath his armor, which had appeared with his armor when he tapped his wristwatch, provided some protection from the cold.
As Percy continued further, he still couldn't stifle the feeling that he was being watched. And so, he kept glancing behind him, and yet he would see no one. That didn't reassure him though, and he kept as vigilante as ever, looking out for any sign of danger.
Once more, things grew darker and darker, though Percy could still see. It also made his sword appear brighter than it was. But, eventually, the a light came into view, and Percy stopped considering things. He tried to listen hard, seeing if there was life in the cave at all. Hearing nothing, he edged forward tentatively. Glancing behind him once more, he stepped into the entrance that glowed with a reddish purple light, and he was amazed at the sight before him.
The cave was full of scrolls. Many of them were written in the ancient languages of Alageasia. But they were older than anything, some dating back to the time when the Olympians still held the world. Percy, who had been forced to learn the languages of Alagaesia was glad that he could read it. The gods had kept track of language and social changes, and thus they were able to pass that on to him.
Still, other scrolls were written in Ancient Greek, which he was quite familiar with, the easiest language for him to read. No Latin was present, though, which made sense. The Roman culture hadn't even come to fruition at this time. These scrolls probably came from the old world, or at least that was what Percy suspected.
Strange objects were also housed in the room, and Percy knew better than to trust those. The creepy feeling was also intensified in this very room, another corridor leading away from the room, opposite the one that Percy had entered.
Knowing that he was here to investigate, Percy stepped up and began reading on of the scrolls all without setting his sword down. He wanted to be ready at a moment's notice should he need to defend himself.
The story told about an ancient elf on an old continent, not the one Percy was currently on. It was about his travels in a ship, which made sense, since the elves were renowned for traveling in ships. According to the story, the elf had met some trouble when Oceanus, (or the elvish name for Oceanus), had caused trouble, a massive storm created. He'd threatened the elfling with death for trespassing on his waters. The elf then prayed to Poseidon, who appeared and engaged in combat with Oceanus. After winning, Poseidon made the waters calm again.
But that wasn't what caught Percy's interest the most. He wondered if this elf had descendants in Alagaesia, for his name was Ormius. 'Hm,' Percy thought. 'Ormius sounds a lot like Oromis. Could this be where the rider's name sake comes from?'
It was interesting, but not what Percy was looking for. And as the feelings intensified that he was being watched, he hurried through the scrolls, desperate to find anything about the Titan he was looking for. He didn't even have a name.
As he researched, intriguingly he found no reference to demigods. Some of these scrolls clearly came from the time after the Olympians had put the Titan to sleep, but before they'd left for the old world. Percy had been told by Tritan that demigods didn't start coming around until after she had been put to sleep, and that the race of demigods was new and up and coming when the Olympians had loaned the world. So, it appears there had never been time for the Olympians to have demigod children in this world. But, Angela, who would have had contact with his world, would have known about them, being a priestess to Apollo. Perhaps that was the only reason she knew.
But he still didn't trust that his Olympian ichor wouldn't be sensed. So, having read what he could, he stopped as he felt a presence approaching. Looking towards the corridor that he hadn't entered, he was surprised when a young female human came into view, in a simple tunic dress with sleeves. She had blonde, curly hair, and was fairly thin in frame. She also looked like she'd never held a weapon in her life.
She watched him observantly with her blue eyes. Vaguely, in the back of Percy's mind, he remembered the shade mentioning a woman trapped in ice.
To his surprise, she spoke in the human Alagaesian tongue. "Can you read that?"
Percy remained expressionless. "Who are you?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "You're trespassing in my cave, and you're asking who I am?"
"Yes," Percy replied stiffly.
Frowning, she considered him. "I'm no one of consequence," she finally replied.
"Well, forgive me if I don't believe you."
Then, she paused. "Are you here to see her?"
"Her?" Percy asked carefully.
"The lady trapped in ice?" the woman offered.
The back of Percy's mind was wondering what on earth this woman was doing in a dangerous environment. But, seeing that it might be easier to play along, he replied, carefully guarding his emotions, "Yes."
She turned around and entered the corridor she had exited. She had sandles on, and Percy, who vaguely realized that it might be intimidating to find an armored man in a place you lived, followed her.
The corridor twisted and winded, and led down even further. Finally, it opened up, and there was a blue light. 'Durza never mentioned a second woman,' Percy vaguely thought, well aware that there was more going on.
The vast expanse of the room was filled with ice, and deep inside, there was a woman, frozen, beautiful. She had red, long hair, and her eyes were closed. The woman who had led him stood in front of it, serene, and her hand touched the ice softly. She gazed at the other woman.
Percy stepped closer, investigating. "Who is she?" he dared to ask.
Not looking at him at all, she murmured, "The high priestess of Cleace."
Some part of Percy wondered if that was the name of the Titan. "And you are a priestess?" Percy dared to ask.
"I am a servant to the priestess," she offered. "But I'm no priestess. I've been looking after her for a very long time. Only one other has come here in recent times, a man with red eyes. I stayed out of his way. But you... you're different. You might be able to wake her. At least, that's what the voice says."
"Voice?" Percy questioned, though he had no intention of waking this foreign priestess. And why had Angela never mentioned this, unless she didn't know? He was going to have a talk with her.
"The voice that commands me and the priestess," the woman tilted her head, continuing to look at the priestess. "The goddess speaks in these hallways."
"Goddess," and Percy was immediately cautious.
At this, the woman turned to him. "You serve gods too, don't you? You're unusual. The voice was watching you. There's something different about you. How, we don't know. She doesn't know. But she finds you interesting. And yet, you carry remnants of the Greeks." Her eyes flickered to the glowing sword, and that's when Percy realized that to her and probably this goddess, it was curious that he was able to carry a weapon of the gods, something no mere mortal should have been able to do. And it puzzled them.
Percy was in thought. Some part of him wondered whether this woman was an accomplice, or if she had merely been tricked. "Is this goddess here?" Percy dared to ask.
"Always," the woman confirmed. "She sleeps. She guards."
"Guards what?" Percy was cautious. And why were the secrets being spilled to him? That was suspicious.
"The source of life," the woman replied. "It holds power over the gods and the godly family. She guards their very life and ability to live."
The hair on Percy's skin raised again. He'd thought the fates governed life, but he'd never considered that perhaps their immortal life essence was guarded by something else. It was no wonder the gods wanted it back. And, realizing how this affected him, since this essence also flowed in the veins of demigods and legacies, he knew that if anything happened, they would be the first to die. The gods would last a little longer. But would he last, since he was destined to become a god?
And this woman thought this goddess was guarding it.
Suddenly, everything the Olympians had told him made sense. They'd barely managed to stop this titan, and yet she had ahold of their life force. They couldn't go in without waking her. If she woke up, and Percy hadn't gotten it from her, she would use it to destroy the Olympians and create her own generation of gods and goddesses.
Realizing how serious this was, he knew he had to do something about it. The Olympians were relying on him to sneak in and steal the life source back, hopefully without being detected. But would he be able to do it without being detected?
Turning around, he asked, "How far in this cave?"
"She's underneath," the woman was now growing suspicious. "Why?"
"And you want me to wake this priestess, why?"
"Because she serves the goddess. She always has. She was imprisoned in ice long ago."
"When?" Percy was suspicious.
The woman shrugged. "Longer than I've been here."
"And how long have you been here?" Percy was a bit harsher.
Her expression changed to hardness. "A long time. Now, are you going to release the priestess or not?"
Percy began backing up. "I'm sorry, but I think you've got the wrong guy."
Having what he needed to know, Percy backed out, heading out of the cave, knowing he was being watched. While he knew now that he was going to have to go in and get this "cradle of life", at the same time, Percy wanted to consult with the gods first. And he wanted answers as to why he wasn't told about a priestess.
Finding Blackjack outside who was wary and uneasy, he mounted his steed, never putting his sword back.
'Come on, Blackjack. Let's head back.'
Please review! Reviews make a person's day! I made this chapter extra long!