Sail among liars
Blame the deniers
If history is dead and gone
Then how did we get here, my God
So you wanna start a war in the age of icons?
So you wanna be immortal with a loaded gun?
- Klergy and Valerie Broussard, "Start a War"
On a clear day, Aquila would very well be the only terror to dominate the skies. His extensive felling of the pigeons and falcons around Bolos Bay long secured his position as master of all. Only his shining feathers could be spotted flying the perimeter of Mount Othrys on any given day.
Today, however, is not one of these days.
Purple clouds blot out the night sky, decreasing visibility as Aquila flaps low on the bay. Mist sprays in his face and he is all but blinded.
Then he senses heat. He ducks. A lit ballista hurdles from a nearby rebel ship, crashing against the Titan fortress. A yahooooo hurdles from the deck below, a certain son of Hephaestus with flaming fists punching the air in victory.
The other rebel ships follow suit. More artillery lit in Greek fire strikes Mount Othrys, shaking the land for miles. Certainly not the place for this eagle to be.
Aquila has a half a mind to abandon the daughters of his liege lord and find safety among the mountains to the south. Even if he can't make it that far in time, he can always return to the battlefield after this whole war business is done for, gorging himself on the dead with the rest of the carrion sure to come.
A thought quickly lost.
A blast of white lightning slices the sky above him. Aquila almost can't believe it. He screeches and the sky rumbles in response. Beady eyes alight.
Aquila glides on the scathing wind with renewed purpose. Making a hard turn to avoid another ballista, he curves back in the direction of the palace. He needs to seek out Thalia. Though she is nothing compared to his liege lord: a single light bulb in a storm of shadows, whilst Zeus is the sun.
He finds her regardless in the East Tower. Landing in the open window, no one in the room pays the eagle any mind, certainly not the Titans milling around the circular table. Their armor is too clean to have seen any real battle yet, but their fancy tunics stained red from the ruined festivities still peek out from underneath.
Kronos is the exception. His robes had been discarded long ago when he had taken to spitting up ichor. That too had finished, though minute shivers still wrack his body and it keeps him from putting on his own armor.
The slave Drew does it for him. Her fingers feather across his chest but it makes no difference. Kronos growls like a wild beast when she straps his breastplate into place.
"Apologies, my lord," she whispers every few minutes or so. Soothing undertones in her voice – subtle magic borne of self-preservation – are perhaps all that's keeping the Titan king from lashing out at her.
He's had no time to recover at all and it shows. Kronos and the rest of his brothers made significant haste to have this meeting.
Noticing the intrusion of Thalia's pet is far beneath them.
Aquila's careful eyes settle on her, positioned by the door. Thalia kneels on the ground with head bowed forward. The haunted look in her eyes is unsettling, even for a bird of prey like him. Everything else about her, however, screams boredom.
Alabaster beside her is the opposite. His stare implies he hears everything occurring between the Titans, yet the hardened discipline schooling his face into a neutral expression suggests he shan't tell a soul. Where Thalia lacks focus, he is anything but. He is a tool waiting to be used, a knight perfectly crafted for a war of biblical proportions.
"The west end is being brought to ruin by their navy," the Titan Pallas murmurs. "The outer sanctum with their army. All the wards failed once the protective walls were breached."
A muscle beneath Kronos's eye twitches. "And the inner sanctum?" Harboring the throne room, it's their most important point of defense. The rest can crumble for all he cares.
"On lockdown. Those wards are currently being propped up by the children of Hecate and telekhines. At the very least, the Olympians won't be able to unleash an aerial attack…" he trails off.
"How long will it hold?"
"Does it matter? It's all useless in the face of a demigod ground assault."
Kronos's eyes darken, leaving Pallas stuttering for a response. "My guess is not long with the amount of soldiers left to us, my Lord. Thanks to that blasted traitor Underwood—"
His fist clenches. "Dead now if that be any lesson to those who betray me in our hour of need."
Thalia fidgets. Sparks pop across her left hand and she weaves them between her fingers. The air crackles with ozone but goes largely unnoticed, as does the impatience growing within her. It only subsides when she finally spots Aquila sitting on the windowsill.
Aquila hums. Rebels in. Gods coming. ZeusZeusZeus.
It had taken Thalia awhile to intuit his movements and hear the rasp that was his voice. She had never taken to chatting with the creatures of her father's domain at great length, let alone his own former bolt bearer and bringer of justice. Certainly her loss, he thinks.
Thalia cranes her head in Aquila's direction. The closest thing to a nod she can manage at the moment without drawing suspicion. The longer they go ignoring the animal, the better. Though Aquila isn't quite sure how to feel about being deemed insignificant.
Kronos continues. "If I can procure more soldiers, will Mount Othrys hold?"
"If there are more soldiers to stop the rebel advance, then yes," he says, as if it should be obvious. "Reinforcements should be deployed immediately."
He leans back further in his chair. "I have two imprisoned demigods that need to make themselves useful. One can raise me an army."
Pallas frowns. "You'll never get the son of Hades to comply—"
"Leave it to me," Kronos cuts him off. "Along with Koios and Atlas, I task you in the defense of my palace. Rid it of any scum that seeks to challenge us, will you?"
He blinks. "As you wish, my Lord."
Kronos nods once, dismissing him.
Pallas shuffles past the two demigods still kneeling. No one bothers to watch him go.
With his armor in place, Kronos sends Drew away too and turns to the now empty window. He leans against the wall and only stares out across the booming horizon. "Can you feel it?"
Iapetus grimaces. "Brother?"
"Time. It is running out." He crosses his arms over his gilded breastplate. "The Olympians will be upon us shortly. We can't let the actions of traitors and half-blood pestilence distract us from the real battle."
"Perses has already gone to hold them off with the remnants of the Titan and minor god legions."
Kronos snorts. "If they failed to reclaim Olympus at their full strength, I doubt they will successfully fend the Olympians at half their numbers."
A fair point.
Hyperion stands. "We will also go and prepare ourselves for the fight to come, my Lord." His golden eyes burn brighter than the sun with excitement. "The five brothers, charging into battle once again."
"With Oceanus no better than another sister," Iapetus adds with a short laugh of his own.
The Titan Lord's smile is brief and doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Four," he corrects.
"Ah, the poor fool trapped under the sky," Hyperion continues on their way out the door. "Krios will be missing quite a show."
When the brothers leave, Kronos's serious expression returns. He finally looks to Thalia and Alabaster.
"The nature spirits?" he asks in a clipped tone.
Alabaster answers. "Those that did not escape—"
"They no longer pose a threat, my Lord," Thalia bites out. The hundred or so nature spirits that gave their soldiers the slip won't turn the tide of the war. And after what happened to Grover and being given the order of slaughtering his kin, she had been glad to see them run far away from this place. "There have also been no signs of Artemis."
"If no one has spotted her," Alabaster adds, "it could very well mean she is still within these walls."
Kronos frowns, displeased, but does not let the thought linger. "Your archers?"
"Still posted on the battlements."
"Good, keep them there until I give the order to withdraw." He leans into the table as his crutch. He taps his point finger against the wood. "As for the next phase of our plan, have Percy Jackson sent to my quarters. I will… convince him it is in his best interest to cooperate."
Thalia's eyes sharpen, knowing he plans to do more than convince.
The heart of Zagreus.
Alabaster nods once. "And Nico Di Angelo, my Lord?"
"Is of no use to me rotting away in the dungeons. Go," Kronos commands. They rise without hesitation. He holds his gaze out to the burning bay. "Bring the son of Hades to me."
For Nico, sometimes it's hard to tell between one nap and the next. He doesn't sleep, he can't, not while he's still trapped here behind enemy lines. Or at least, not for long, anyway, when his body aches with the dozens of scars Alabaster has left him. Nico would rather see the pain coming. And so, he remains in a state of high alert even while resting less he be caught unawares.
He dreams, recalling he hasn't done so for ages. And when Will Solace's face comes into view, he initially thinks it'll somehow be a good dream. He hasn't seen Will in ages and somehow that ache is worse than anything physical that might have been inflicted on him.
But Nico judges too fast. This dream isn't a happy one – they never are for demigods.
The archers that had accompanied Thalia, had been exceptionally good at sneaking up on the army. Posted on the walls of Othrys, however, and while being tasked with keeping the Rebels out loses them their element of surprise. As a result, they fail spectacularly.
Solace becomes attuned to them quickly, ordering both the Apollo children and the Constellations to obliterate their numbers. On the horizon, an arsenal steadily pounds at the palace, shaking archers from their battlements and crushing the outer wards that fizzle away into streams of purple smoke. The Titan archers put up a defense to be reckoned with, of course, but the invaders slip past regardless.
Nico expects Mount Othrys to look similar to Olympus. He's dead wrong, which isn't the first time that's happened. Where Olympus had been a citadel, with pristine golden streets and expansive homes, Othrys is an enormous maze of a palace that clearly belongs to one man. It's an enclosed monster that's starting to collapse in on itself like a tomb with Nico in the belly of it all.
Nevertheless, he's surprised by how accommodating the hallways are for their legions, able to walk ten side-by-side in seventy neat rows. Elysian garrison first, Romans and Greeks interspersed, archers at the tail. Far better organization than whenever the hell they'd done at the Battle of Manhattan.
Out of nowhere the pace of the legions is brought from a crawl to a sprint. Will pushes his way to the front of the train. "What's going on?" he shouts at Annabeth, the only one likely to tell him anything.
Annabeth opens her mouth to answer him, but they round a corner and Will has to turn with them lest he run straight into mortared marble.
Theia on the front lines urges them fast. "Come on, come on!" she snaps. "He's working overtime to shift the hallways. I can see the brief outline, but it can change in a matter of moments."
By he, they only assume she means Kronos. And nothing good can come out of him having control of the layout of this place.
They do their best to follow, but as Jason points out to her, "A little hard to move a couple hundred soldiers without trampling each other."
From the back of the line, they hear shouts of alarm, a hundred swords being drawn. The message flies up the chain quicker than one of Hermes's messages.
Reyna's face darkens and she draws her own sword. "The rear's being attacked."
"It's only a couple of hellhounds." Theia flicks up her hand. The walls grumble and the monster's growls are replaced by whines. "If we let the monsters split us up, we'll be trapped and never make it through."
Once again, the Titaness runs out ahead of them. The path forks into two separate hallways and she dashes out down the left.
A flash of panic fills Will's face. His nose wrinkling in a somewhat pained look, Nico knows what he's thinking. That, with a terrible flash of foresight, this all seems terribly wrong. "Wait—" He stops Annabeth and Jason from moving forward. "Theia, please—"
But the Titaness stops of her own accord. Having already sensed the danger. "Turn back!" Theia whips around, eyes wide. "Now!"
Her whole body jerks with an invisible blow. Theia looks down, a transparent spearhead poking out from beneath her breast.
He materializes from thin air, a wide smile on his face with canines flashing. Koios, Titan of the North, decked in his full icy regalia and clearly in no mood to take prisoners.
"Sister." She cranes her head to look at him. "How nice of you to bring the rebel scum to me."
Theia's hand wraps around the frozen spear and it dissolves instantly. She falls to the ground, trying to cover the gaping hole in her midsection. Ichor slips between her fingers.
Koios cocks his head to stare. She struggles to move away. "Keep going!" Her gaze seems to settle on Will's. "Follow the cracks!"
Another spear appears in Koios's hands. "Hyperion sends his displeasure."
Theia's hand flicks up again. The floor splits open, making way for a wall meant to block off the tunnel, though the Titan shows little interest in it. And as this passageway closes, another to their right opens up, albeit jagged and smaller.
The last thing they catch sight of is Theia being stabbed through the back of her skull and Koios's piercing blue eyes promising a chilling death.
Making good on that promise, frost climbs its way up the conjured wall. Certainly not a good sign. As the temperature of the hallway drops, Will is the first to break the silence. "Well, we're fucked."
"You're as cheerful as ever," Annabeth comments, turning to the new passage Theia's last act had created. They have to move fast.
There are no torches to light their way. But Jason touches the walls, feeling the cracks for himself. He looks to Annabeth. "What did she mean by follow them?"
Her eyebrows furrow. "Mount Othrys is a reflection of Kronos's power. All that power gets consolidated in his throne. Any faults will lead to the source."
"The inner sanctum."
She nods.
Frost continues to gather on Theia's wall. The longer they wait, the quicker they'll see Koios's face again.
"Let's go," Will urges.
But Jason stalls, clenching and unclenching his fists. "We won't have Theia to avoid the Titan army anymore."
"Then get ready because we don't have a choice. We're on our own now," Annabeth declares. She turns to Will. "I need you to lead the way."
He looks just about ready to break into a panic attack. Though lacking clear expectations, this is certainly something Will hadn't envisioned upon in storming the palace. "I'm not like my father. I'm no good with prophecies."
"Hunches are enough." She grabs his shoulder and gives a light squeeze. "Better than going in blind. All I'm asking you is to try."
"Well, then get ready to die."
"With pleasure." Jason pulls out his sword and the rest of the soldiers follow suit, preparing themselves. "Solace, at the helm."
Will takes a deep breath before coming to stand in front of the two rebel leaders. He stares down at the dark hallway… then at Nico – as if he can see him. He holds out his hand and it glows a sunny orange in the face of the Othrys's oppressive shadows. "Wherever you are deadbeat, you better get here fast. We need you. I need you."
Doctor's orders.
The crackle of ozone wakes Nico up. He's isn't sure how he smells it the air, only that he catches glimpses of a hotel lobby, a little Bianca and his mother Maria, Hades's face tensing as if something terrible is about to happen.
Nico moves without thinking, flipping the interrogation table on its side and dashing behind it just as the cell wall opposite of him explodes. The force of the blast sends pieces of mirror flying over his head. Both he and the table become pushed to the far side of the cell.
When it's over, he dares a glance from behind his makeshift shield. Out from the smoke, stepping over the rubble, Nico sees… Artemis?
She has certainly seen better days. The amount of fresh scars on her arms suggest the goddess has been in a multitude of battles in a short amount of time. Her white – or at least, he thinks it must have been white: it's hard to tell from the burnt claw marks and splatters of ichor – chiton's been torn to practically shreds around the midsection. Only a bit of charred fabric still connects the top and bottom portions of the dress together. A thousand sticky loose hairs have already fallen out from their intricate braid and he half expects chicks to poke their heads out of the bird nest.
She is certainly not the same Artemis that saved him and Bianca all those years ago.
In her hand, the metallic shine of the Master Bolt greets him. It sparks like a live wire, arcs of electricity surging up and down the goddess's arm. She doesn't seem to be affected by it at all – natural, as a daughter of Zeus.
His nostrils flare. He takes a shuddering breath.
Artemis stares at him, as if waiting for Nico to speak. But he can't. Not when he keeps picturing his mother's broken body folded into Hades's arms. It takes him a while to realize that he's safe now – no one, especially not Zeus, is coming to hurt him. In fact, this is the moment he's been waiting for several months now.
"Nico Di Angelo." Artemis powers down the weapon. Her face hardens, growing with impatience. "It's time to leave."
"Huh," he murmurs in a wary voice. Apprehensively, he stands. "Not how I expected my jailbreak to play out but I won't complain."
"I'm glad. We certainly don't have the time for that."
Certainly no time for questions either.
She stalks out of his cell, leaving Nico all but helpless to follow.
While the dungeons should be crawling with guards, it's strangely empty. Though Artemis sincerely doubts this is due to a lack of follow through on Kronos's part. It wouldn't surprise Artemis in the least if he's rerouted them to the outer walls, yet her thought remains the same. This is too easy.
Artemis stiffens.
The Master Bolt crackles to life, Nico nearly jumping out of his skin. She fires towards the end of the hallway. Neither of them expects the bolt to ricochet back. Artemis shoves Nico to the floor before she can order him to duck.
Footsteps near them. She poises the Master Bolt again for another strike until she hears, "Is that any way to treat your would-be rescuers?"
Artemis blows on the wisps of hair hanging low on her face. She stands, her expression relatively relieved. She hauls Nico to his feet, sighing, "As you can see, I was doing fine on my own."
It may very well be a dream. A shining Apollo walks towards them – a far cry from the twiggy, powerless godling that had been pulled out of Tartarus three years ago. Behind him, Luke and a stone-faced Orion.
Nico gives the son of Hermes a half-hearted wave.
"I can see," Apollo concedes.
She steps closer to him and a wave of familiar energy passes between them. "Don't become soft on me now. There's work to do."
"Not with that." Apollo points to her glowing ankle without looking. "I can feel Kronos's tether on you all the way from here."
Artemis doesn't even have to say anything. He kneels before her, pressing his flaming hand on her branded flesh. Her whole body jerks and by Chaos does it burn. But with sudden pain follows relief – in this case, freedom. Her eyes nearly roll in their sockets.
"There," Apollo says, removing his palm from her ankle and wiping away the beads of silver sweat hanging low on his forehead. "Kronos's magic is still strong, especially here."
Apollo flexes his wrist and he once again stands to his full height.
She almost says thank you until noticing the archer half-hidden in the shadows behind Luke. "Orion?" He steps closer into the light at the sound of his name.
Her brother's eye twitches.
"My Lady," Orion murmurs, expression unusually guarded as his eyes meet hers.
"I haven't—" She cuts herself off, her mind whirling in a thousand directions. "That last time—"
"I know," is all he says, neither terribly angry nor pleased. Their history is a messy one, involving Apollo's jealousy, Artemis unknowingly breaking her own heart, and Orion ending up with an arrow to the back of the skull. One that has never faulted in making all three parties wholly uncomfortable.
"Your apologies can wait." Apollo retorts. He reaches out to his sister, lest she forget him standing right next to her. "You're free."
"Not yet." Orion slings the carved silver bow from his back. "Not without this."
Artemis's weapon of power. Her breath catches. When she touches it, her entire body jolts with the spark of familiarity. She takes it from him, still feeling the lingering heat from his hand upon it.
"Thank you," she whispers, all at once, her limbs shaking. Power seeps back into her muscles and it aches, as if she's gone years without using them. Artemis rips Kronos's collar from her throat, noticing the shimmer on her hand. She's free.
Once again, Apollo reaches out, this time hoping to steady her. "It will be a little disorienting at first."
She stares at him, his own glow matching hers. Her words hang in the air – she can't quite describe the sensation filling in her heart at the sight of the two of them so close, finally together again.
Apollo smirks, his lips parting, perhaps to commemorate the moment with an ill-suited joke or haiku (though as far as Artemis is aware, his haikus are jokes). They'll never know.
The ground beneath them rumbles.
Orion's nostrils flare. "What bloody magic—"
A moving wall splits the small group in half before they can blink. Artemis and Apollo vanish behind it. Plumes of debris have Nico and Luke hacking. But Orion's face remains hard-pressed.
He whips out his bow and notches an arrow at the end of the corridor. "Show yourself!"
The haze dissipates. He sees a young man he doesn't recognize. A green rune glows in his hand. But in the shadows behind him, someone Orion does recognize: Thalia Grace, pointing her own arrow at them.
He almost smiles. "I'm impressed with how you hid your approach."
She only scowls. "Nico Di Angelo comes with us."
Luke pushes himself in front of the son of Hades. His hand rests on the pommel of his sword, but his face still betrays hints of confusion. "Thalia—" he tries to take a step forward.
She quickly stops him. "Don't."
He flinches. His glare focuses on the son of Hecate at her side, as if he's to blame for all this. "Alabaster."
"Luke," Alabaster says with equal malice. "You're looking… alive. I would very much like to change that."
He smirks. "I take it you missed me."
Alabasters says nothing, he only sneers. His rune turns from green to red – as if activating.
Orion shoots first, but Thalia is quick on the draw to challenge him. Luke pushes Nico back further and moves beneath the colliding arrows.
Luke dodges the exploding bricks under his feet. A wary Alabaster immediately reaches for the thin black sword at his waist. He draws quick enough to parry Luke's overhead strike and aims for a low stab. Side-stepping, Luke recognizes the metal immediately. Stygian iron.
Though it's been three years, as a runaway soul from the Underworld, one tiny cut and who knows what might very well happen to him.
Nico must recognize it too. Behind Luke, the ground erupts, spewing out three armored skeletons. Together, they push Alabaster on the defensive and allow Luke a chance to regain his footwork and obtain the barebones of a strategy. Though the effort still takes a considerable toll on the son of Hades, who slumps against a wall like easy-pickings.
Alabaster whirls around like a tornado of green and red. He hacks one skeleton to pieces but another jumps him from behind. He roars when a rusty spear slices open his shoulder and Thalia temporarily comes to his defense. With a single lightning strike, she snuffs out the life from Nico's minion like blowing on a candle.
More of Orion's arrows fly at her in successive spurts. She snaps two in half with her own shots, one grabs the tip of her ear, and another nearly tears her throat in two before she throws herself in a little alcove. She rips an arrow out of her quiver and blows on it, white tendrils of electricity crackling from her grip.
More bricks explode beneath Luke's feet, sending him into retreat again. The last skeleton holding a war hammer nearly cracks open Alabaster's face. Thalia looses her arrows at it, each one more volatile than the last with sparks flying on the tail end. It comes to a point that they no longer resemble arrows, but lightning bolts instead. She finally fells the minion with a single shot to the forehead and he combusts in a mess of burnt bones.
But the distraction of saving her comrade has allowed Orion to gain on her. She sends high-voltage arrows his way but it's to no avail. A foot away, he slings his bow over his back in one fluid motion, drawing the knives from his sleeves.
A minute turn of the ring on her finger and the bow shifts to a knife the length of her arm. She spins the knife in her hands, once, twice. It stops in an underhanded position. Thalia has a second to study him: no breastplate, silver arm guards, jerkin covering his shins. Then they lunge full-speed at one another.
Orion knocks the knife out of Thalia's right hand. She punches him in the jaw and catches it with her left, stabbing for the nearest artery. He redirects her proposed hit with butt of one of his own knives. Then the dance begins, their knives clashing and bouncing off of each other harmlessly. Every hit rings like a round of thunder.
A well-placed groin kick stuns Alabaster long enough for Luke to wrestle the Stygian iron sword out of his grasp. Though it's Luke's mistake to think himself out of the clear.
Alabaster's hand gives him a light shove. "Incantare: et conlidam,"
He feels, hears, his chest crack. Only briefly does he catch a glimpse of Thalia's emotionless blue eyes, her face tightening.
She whips around, her knife aimed at Orion's chest but he dodges at the last minute. The blade barely grazes his neck before stabbing the wall. It smokes and shudders but, when she attempts to wrench it free, it remains embedded.
Thalia stops one of his knives from plunging into her unguarded cheek. With his wrist in her hand, she shocks him before he can make a clean cut with his other knife. The blade falls from his grip.
He moves to retreat from the sudden pain but Thalia grabs him by his leathers to pull him closer. She bashes his side with her knee, once, twice, at the same spot she'd stabbed him in their other skirmish not too long ago. Though a third hit is too far. Despite her body humming like a stratus cloud, Orion grabs her beneath the knee and lifts her up over his head. She sneers, grabbing his neck, but he flings her over his shoulder before she can do any damage. She hits the wall with a loud smack.
She gets to her feet quickly just as Orion, once again, withdraws his silver bow. Thalia curses, the sparks on her arms spreading to her entire body. The Hunter drifts away immediately, shaking off his pain, paranoid gaze awaiting the deadly strike yet to come.
Luke sprawls out on the floor, gasping for air. He's helpless to stop Alabaster from regaining both swords. The son of Hecate looms over him. "Castellan." He points both blades at Luke's face. "Kronos would take great pleasure in killing you."
The son of Hermes grits his teeth. "You can tell him the feeling is mutual."
"Though the task seems left to me, I can't say I'm disappointed." Alabaster poises for a final blow. "Let's hope you stay dead this time."
Thalia points her open, crackling palm at Orion. Irises a stormy blue, he swears he sees death in her eyes. Her challenge remains unsaid: Are you quick enough?
She fires.
And as much as he hates to admit it, he cannot notch an arrow faster than the speed of light. But before he wonders if he can position himself just enough to dodge the attack, the bolt misses him.
Her face doesn't change and it is only then that Orion realizes: she intended to miss.
Thalia strikes Alabaster instead.
He's struck dead-on in the small of his back. The son of Hecate convulses, falling. Luke scrambles to avoid deadweight slamming into him. It's a miracle that Alabaster doesn't impale himself upon either sword on the way down.
For a moment Orion freezes and remains absolutely speechless. Thalia says nothing to clear up the confusion.
With difficulty, Luke gets to his feet. He nudges Alabaster but his opponent offers no response. "Is he…?"
"No." Thalia moves and the direction of Orion's notched arrow follows her. Her eyes never leave the Hunter's face either. "He's an ass. But he doesn't deserve that."
He does his best to snort through the pain. "Well, then we can agree to disagree."
"He'll be out for a long while. Hopefully, his motor functions will be intact, but I wouldn't bet on it." She kicks the Stygian iron sword out of Alabaster's grasp. She points to Nico with her chin. "That's yours – it's how he was able to track you. Pick it up."
Nico can barely keep his eyes open, but he does, staring at her with great uncertainty. Still, it's clear he's glad to have the sword back.
Thalia gaze returns to Orion. He remains a statue, and, for a moment, so does she – until a decision flickers on her face. She drops down to her knees and Orion shoots, though it soars wide over her head.
"That was a warning," he hisses. He notches another arrow. "The next one will not be."
She ignores him, flipping Alabaster on his side and patting him down.
Luke swallows. "Thalia, maybe you should listen to him."
She seems not to have heard him, having no intention of remaining still. "Put it down, Orion."
He doesn't look amused. "I think you overestimate how much I care about the lives of half-bloods."
"Even though you are one?"
His lips twitch. "An irrelevant detail."
"Artemis will never forgive you," she muses, still rummaging through Alabaster's pockets.
"Shouldn't she be the one in the need of my forgiveness?" Though he can still feel the sting of Artemis's arrow from thousands of years ago piercing the back of his head, there's no fire behind his words and the girl knows this.
"You wouldn't come here with them – with Apollo, of all people – if you truly believed that." Her hand pauses in Alabaster's front pocket. Looking back to Orion, she carefully draws her hand back with an index card clutched firmly in her grasp. Inscribed in highlighter orange both a Greek sigma and chi – "Stealth rune. I'd hate for Kronos to track me."
Orion recognizes it. "Touché, Thalia Grace." He lowers his bow. "You've become a worthier adversary since the last time we met. I can hardly tell what's going through that head of yours anymore."
"I'm glad to hear that," she says, though doesn't clarify as to what part of his declaration she's most pleased with.
Her eyes flicker to the wall behind them. In a heartbeat, it turns to rubble with a loud clap of thunder. A seething Apollo bursts from the ruins with the Master Bolt clenched. Artemis comes behind him, brandishing her weapon of power. Though it's more than clear they've missed the fight.
Artemis's eyes sharpen and she reads the tense atmosphere in an instant. "Careful, Thalia. Some people still have reason to question your loyalties."
"Wouldn't be the first time." Her lips purse. "Kronos sent me to find you."
She raises an eyebrow. "And?"
"Naturally, he wants the Master Bolt and for me to bring you back to him in chains." A tepid smile tugs at her lips. She's more than aware of both Apollo and Orion clenching their fists.
"Even in his weakest hour Kronos's dramatics never fail." Artemis is the first to come closer, pulling Thalia into her arms. "I'm glad you're okay."
Nico waves Apollo over to Luke and the god wastes no time in mending his ribs. He'll need them for future battles to come.
"We don't have much time." Thalia breaks away. "He's rallied the Titans for a final defense. Pallas has been called on to fortify the walls and make sure no other immortals can enter Othrys. Without the gods, the half-blood host will be slaughtered by Atlas."
"I thought as much," she sighs. "His condition?"
Her eyes remain on Luke, who quickly regains a normal breathing pattern. "Hasn't changed, for better or worse."
Their conversation stalls as Apollo makes his rounds with everyone. With a touch on Nico's forehead, the son of Hades regains the strength that he's been sorely lacking for months now.
The wounds Thalia and Orion have inflicted upon one another take a bit more effort, involving hand-holding and some hair-ruffling. That, or it's just Thalia Apollo seems a bit too friendly around; when it's Orion's turn he's downright frigid. The god's lingering touch meant to heal is kept to a minimum, made even worse by a foul mood once Artemis comes to stand beside Orion, her pale hand resting on the Hunter's shoulder.
Even Thalia's stare hardens as she tries to figure out just what's going on there. A thought for another day though as soon as Artemis addresses her again. "If the Rebels are kept at bay long enough he'll able to recover from the poison."
"Which is what he's hoping for." Thalia's grimace deepens. "I told you: I won't let him win this."
Orion raises an eyebrow. "I take it you have a plan?"
"The semblance of one." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Every moment there seems to be unforeseen complications. Grover Underwood is dead – not part of the plan. Also didn't expect my vomit to paint the floors." Her stomach flips at the mention of the poison. "Though next on the list…"
"The heart of Zagreus. Kronos cannot be allowed to use it," Artemis finishes for her, voice rising with urgency.
"Aquila can find it." She eyes her father's weapon, now poking out of Apollo's quiver. "I can hail him with the Master Bolt."
Orion snorts. "We entrust you with the Master Bolt?"
Thalia almost regrets not striking him down alongside Alabaster, though she deliberately keeps this to herself for obvious reasons. "I don't see you coming up with a better plan."
With his silence, Orion concedes, much to her relief.
Apollo clasps his hands together, pointedly shoving the Hunter aside. "Then what are we waiting for?"
A look passes between the goddess and her former lieutenant. It only ends in a nod of agreement, then Artemis finding her voice once more. "You're not coming with us."
His scowl is a frightening thing to behold. "You've been gone for nearly a decade. You only just retained a fraction of your powers. You expect me to—"
"The Rebellion won't survive within these walls without help," Thalia retorts. "Someone has to do it and I'd prefer it be a god."
Before his famous temper can rear on her, Artemis grabs his hand. "Please."
His expression cools by only a fraction. "You plan to keep Orion beside you then?"
Hurt flickers on her own face. Hardly even a moment with him and she already expects an argument on the horizon.
"It is clear, is it not?" Orion steps forward, unexpectedly saving them all from a battle of wills between the twin archers. "I am expendable."
Apollo glares at him but doesn't argue.
And Thalia takes her chance. "Nico goes with you."
The quiet-until-now son of Hades looks taken aback. "Nico is going where?"
Her eyes narrow. "Kronos wanted you for a reason – to raise more soldiers. It seems a bit counterproductive to run straight towards him."
"It seems counterproductive to split up," he chews back.
"He has Percy," she snaps. "He's going to use him in the same way he'd readily use you. I'm not going to let that happen. I can't leave without Percy, and, wherever he is, the heart won't be too far behind. This needs to end once and for all."
At least Apollo seems pleased not to be the only one left out of the mission.
Nico makes a soft groan, clearly realizing he's already lost. "Just push me off a bridge, why don't you?"
"Don't tempt me." Thalia eyes him warily. She flicks him on the chest before being swatted at. "You know I'm right."
Luke leans against the wall, watching them vaguely amused. "Are you going to send me away too?"
She stares at him for a long time. "No." Though if she's being honest with herself, a part of her wants to do just that. "Unless you can't stand the idea of working with a traitor, traitor."
Of course, Luke is the opposite; he seems too receptive to the idea, in fact.
He winks at her. "Glad to have you back, Thals."
He slings an arm around Nico's shoulders before they're destined to part ways, his smile making her cheeks burn.
Here we go again.
3 more chapters + epilogue
I foresee the remaining content to be a bit more forthcoming, particularly the next chapter which is already halfway written. My goal is to hopefully finish the work by April - fingers crossed!