Crazy Resort Vacation *Gone wrong* *Actual monsters* *Not clickbait*
many months later
By the time I reached my destination, I was exhausted.
I sat in a canoe, battling my way through thick plant barriers in order to progress. In a way, my surroundings seemed more like swamp with a hint of the Nile River than anything that should be surrounding an island in the Caribbean. I almost thought a crocodile or a hippo was going to break the surface; more than anything, this set me on edge. It was hot and muggy, and there was a distinct fog on the water—humidity, not Mist. Yet.
As someone who, just a year before, had been firmly invested in the idea of studying years of biology in school one day, imagining the host of life that probably lived in the water was fascinating. Sadly, it was also an aside. What was much more important was reaching the shore, when I would finally know whether I'd actually ended up in the right place or not. All along the way, I'd been hesitant, but as I drew closer, the feelings had gotten… better. Of course, in the world of a demigod, this wasn't always a good thing.
Still, no matter how hard I tried to think critically about it all, I couldn't talk myself out of it. I'd been planning the next couple of years of my life for months. However risky, this seemed like my best option. Otherwise, I'd be stuck in some kind of stasis. Powerless, or at least weak, with only foreknowledge at my disposal? No thanks. I reminded myself of this when I started to feel uncomfortable, as I was beginning to in that moment.
I used my oar to beat down the brush. If I was Percy, I probably could have waterbent those things so they'd part like the frigging Red Sea, I thought irritably. Sadly, I was stuck going it the hard way. I wasn't Percy. And I didn't really know much about using my magic to make it all easier.
That was why I was there, after all.
Eventually, I managed to get through the wall of plant life. By that point some of the fog had cleared. I felt the bottom of the canoe sliding across the shallow bottom and took it as the signal to stop. The water around me was murky with sediment, but it seemed to fade in a neat ombre into clear water as it went through the brush ahead. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed my bag, making sure my shotgun was stowed safely away, and slung it over my shoulder before stepping out.
The water was lukewarm, which only made it more gross, and the soil was more fine than sandy. I concentrated on ignoring the feeling of slimy clay soaking into my socks as I made my way, leaving the sad little canoe to turn into a nest for whatever critters lived there.
I pushed through the last sheet of plant life and looked down. I was leaving a cloud of gross behind me.
Then I looked up.
Yup, I thought. Here I am.
Several months later, CC's luxury spa
Percy walked into the room in a kind of daze. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so safe and relaxed. Had it been at camp? The last time he saw his mom? Before the game of monster dodgeball? It didn't seem to matter. His mind was so at ease. These ladies were so kind, so caring, and didn't seem to care that they shouldn't be alone in the Caribbean like that. They weren't going to call the cops or keep them in safe custody until further notice. They were just going to… take care of them. To give them a break.
And there was no doubt that Percy Jackson, errand boy, could use one of those.
So maybe at first, he wasn't paying attention. Maybe the part of him that manifested as ADHD, the defense mechanism designed to keep him on guard, had failed. Maybe it had been persuaded into submission by all the good feelings the island had to offer. Because he didn't see her at first. Actually, he didn't see her until the very last minute, when she shifted in her seat and made a slight noise he couldn't help but notice.
His head turned lazily, and then he startled. "Amara?"
His friend gave him a slow smile. "Hi, sweets."
Percy blinked. Amara's presence had shaken him a little; though he still felt pleasantly dazed, for sure, but now a little voice in his head was telling him that something wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the way she was dressed. He remembered Amara always dressing like she was getting ready to visit a karate studio, but now she wore a white jumpsuit with no sleeves and wide legs. It was belted with a gold chain and circular belt loop that sat a couple of inches below her waistline. Amara's face wasn't right either; somehow her skin was still pale, even though she'd clearly been on the island a while, and she was made up. Her eyes were made to look a little rounder, and her eyelashes were dark and thick. Her lips were too pink. And then he noticed that her glasses were gone. Can she see? he wondered almost sleepily.
She'd gotten taller, too, and her face had slimmed out. Her arms, which Percy had never seen before, were a little muscular. She looked kind of like a magazine color. And there was something else. She was… alert. Not chipper, like the girl at the docks. Just… alert.
"What are you doing here?" he said finally.
Amara's smile slipped a little. Even though her relaxed posture matched his, Percy could tell that she was still sharp, and still picking him apart. She bit her lip and then smiled again. "Not happy to see me, then?"
"I am," he defended. "I just thought you would be at camp. Not wherever this is."
"This is C.C.'s Spa and Resort," Amara said. "The finest spa in the Sea of Monsters." She smiled in the same bitter was Percy remembered someone else doing. Luke? "Doesn't it bring back good memories?"
"What do you mean?" His voice sounded sleepy, even to him; he hadn't noticed that before.
"I mean, you were in deep," Amara said. Somehow her typically dry voice was somehow as warm and welcoming as C.C.'s. "Then, when you least expected it, you came upon C.C. She brought you inside. She's going to pamper you. Make you feel better." Her eyes were sharp, even with the blotchy red things still there, blurring the division between the color and the white. "She may even give you a hot meal. A milkshake."
Percy's stomach growled on cue.
She plowed on. "And aren't you hungry?" Amara was right. He was feeling some deja vu. He just wasn't sure why. And did he really care? No. He was too tired. It was too nice here.
"I am," he said instead of thinking about it anymore. "C.C.'s going to help me." She'd said so, right before she left the room with Annabeth.
"Help you get food?" Amara asked, giving him another sad smile. It reminded him of C.C.'s disappointment.
"Help me get better," Percy said, noticing that for some reason, he was frowning.
"Are you sick?" his friend asked, raising a groomed eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sick," Percy answered slowly. He felt like his brain was swimming through molasses. "Just not right."
"You look fine to me," Amara disagreed. Her eyes darted toward the door, where they stayed fixed for several seconds. "Why are you here? I didn't know you had time for a vacation."
The little voice telling Percy something was wrong was back at it again, and louder this time. "I'll leave as soon as she fixes me," he promised, but his mind was slowly coming back to something besides the fact that C.C. thought he needed a lot of help.
"How are you going to leave?" Amara asked.
"Maybe C.C. will let me borrow her sailboat," he replied. "Does she have some kind of transportation museum?"
Amara blinked. "At the spa? No. People just can't use them anymore, so they leave them behind."
For some reason, that sounded wrong. He frowned some more.
"Mind if I hitch a ride?" she asked, eyes on the door again.
Quiet footsteps came from down the hall and Percy began to feel wonderfully at ease again. "Why would you want to leave?
Amara said nothing, and the door opened. It was C.C. When she opened the door, it was like a breath of fresh air. The whole of his conversation with Amara was out of mind, even the weird stuff. C.C.'s eyes were on Amara, and she was beaming. Percy wished she would look at him like that. "I hope you're having fun with your friend here, Amara."
"Just introducing him to our program," Amara answered with an easy smile. Percy's brow furrowed; why would she lie to C.C. "He's super into it. Really wants to get better, you know?"
"That's excellent!" said C.C., clasping her hands together. "Why don't you prepare the diet while I explain the details?"
"Absolutely," replied Amara, unusually chipper. She gave Percy a look and then went up to a wet bar, where she seemed to be at work picking the perfect glass.
"What's the diet?" Percy asked.
"You see, Percy… to unlock your potential, you'll need serious help," C.C. explained, linking their arms as she guided him back to the mirror. "The first step is admitting you're not happy the way you are."
He wanted to distract himself from the face in the mirror, which suddenly seemed woefully inadequate, but he couldn't concentrate of the sounds of Amara working on the diet. All he could look at was his sunburned skin, messy hair, and disheveled clothing. He didn't want to believe it, but C.C. was right.
You look fine to me.
Percy blinked.
Maybe C.C. could see the doubt in his face, but she didn't look very upset about it. "Now let's try this," she said, snapping her fingers.
A curtain rolled over the window. The material reminded him of the beautiful tapestry he'd seen C.C. wearing earlier. The fabric shimmered, alive, but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at. "Um…"
"Just a second, dear. There you go."
In the time it took Percy to blink, the cloth had become its own kind of mirror, but he was the only one reflected. And the him he saw didn't look exactly right. That Percy was taller. He had clear skin, a good tan. He smiled; his teeth were even. Cloth-Percy was a little more muscular, and he wore expensive, clean clothes. His hair wasn't completely tamed, but it was attractively tousled and not messy. "Wow," Percy said. His mouth felt dry.
"Do you want that?" C.C. asked him. "Or shall I try a different—"
"No," Percy said, turning to see Amara approaching from the wet bar. She held a huge glass that looked like it belonged in an ice cream parlor. It was full of a very pale pink, thick liquid. A hot meal. A milkshake. "That's… that's amazing. Can you…?"
"I can give you a full makeover," C.C. answered.
"What's the catch?" Percy asked, and then gestured at the milkshake. "Is that the diet? I only get to eat those?"
C.C. smiled at him, and even Amara looked a little amused. "Oh, it's quite easy. Plenty of fresh fruit, a mild exercise program…"
"One of these a day," Amara cut in. "Think of it as a meal replacement." Her eyes had that glittery look they got when she was on edge, but she held out the milkshake. She was his friend, wasn't she? Even if she didn't agree that he needed the help—and he couldn't see why at this point—she wouldn't give it to him if she thought it was bad.
Still, he wasn't sure. He thought he could remember her talking about wanting to leave, or how he needed to leave, or something. Did he really have time to work on a whole exercise program? Did he have time to stay for the full makeover?"
"I guarantee you'll see results immediately," C.C. urged confidently.
Percy still felt kind of reluctant. C.C.'s presence was calming, but he was still skeptical. "How is that possible?"
"Don't worry about it, Percy," Amara said. The strange, easy smile was back again. "It's pretty spectacular, I've seen it myself. It's almost like magic."
Amara wouldn't lie. It's okay. But something about the look she was giving him didn't make him feel any more relaxed . In fact, he was slowly beginning to feel on edge. "Why are there no guys at this spa?"
C.C.'s voice defused him immediately. "Oh, but there are. You'll meet them quite soon. Just try the mixture. You'll see."
It was definitely getting more tempting. Amara was pressing the glass into his hands, and C.C. looked expectant. He took it, but didn't drink.
"Now, Percy. The hardest part of the makeover process is giving up control. You have to decide: do you want to trust your judgement of what you should be, or my judgement?"
There was really no other answer. "Your judgement." He lifted the glass to his lips. It was really good, like a mild strawberry shake, but it wasn't cold. He took a few sips and then held the glass away. As he took a few breaths, he felt his muscles get hot, like he'd just had a good training session. Then it turned unpleasant. There was needling pain in his joints; his muscles were searing, and he had a sudden, intense headache. He felt like he'd been stabbed in the gut. He dropped the glass and sank to the floor, folding in on himself like a pretzel. "Why—what have you—"
"Don't worry, Percy. The pain will pass. Look! As I promised. Immediate results."
"Just like magic," Amara chimed in, sounding as if she was back to her serious self.
It happened too quickly for Percy to process. One second, he was a normal kid standing in front of a mirror. And the next thing he knew, he was the size of Amara's foot and covered in hair. As she stooped down to pick him up, he let out a scream. "Reeet!"
"Calm down," Amara ordered, petting him gently on the head as she pulled him out of her clothes. He didn't listen; he twisted and fought her massive hands, but he was powerless. "It's not so bad, being a guinea pig. Unless you live at PetSmart."
"See, Percy?" said C.C., who seemed much less friendly at her current size. "You've unlocked your true self!"
Amara wisely didn't hold him too close to her chest, since he was still clawing at her. He felt conflicted. On one hand, the guinea pig instinct that he seemed to have already liked the petting and the attention. On the other hand—definitely a stronger one—he felt terribly betrayed. Amara was the one who'd given him the milkshake! Why would she do that?
"We really need to work on your suggestive selling techniques," C.C. chided. "It took him a while to accept the offer considering how long you had to butter him up."
"He's a stubborn guy," Amara said. She was still holding him pretty securely. There was no getting away, and even if there was, he had nowhere to go. "Mind if I hold onto him? He makes a pretty cute little guinea pig."
C.C. smiled, but it looked a lot less friendly than it had before. "He does, doesn't he? Hopefully he won't turn out to be one of the problem children."
"So can I?" Amara pressed, stroking him some more.
The woman chuckled. "Amara, sometimes I forget you're still a child." She looked calculating and Amara looked mildly insulted. "I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to let him linger in this form. Do take care of him, dear.
Percy let out a loud reet! again. Amara frowned down at him and then walked over to the cage he'd seen earlier. "Wait for just a minute. And don't make friends. You won't be here long."
If Percy hadn't been a rodent, he would have told her that she didn't have to worry about it. Could she please turn him back into a person? But he couldn't, so she dumped him unceremoniously into the cage with several other guinea pigs. It hit him hard that he had no idea what to do. While that wasn't unusual on its own, it was jarring that he literally couldn't do anything. He was stuck, and the only person who could help him was ignoring his distress. She seemed completely at ease with all of it. Meeting Amara had been totally unexpected. As mean as she could be, though, he definitely hadn't expected her to help turn him into a helpless animal. It felt like a betrayal. And why was she asking to keep him? Is she going to help me get out of here? She mentioned wanting to leave. But as he squealed through the bars of the cage and her back stayed turned, it seemed like a bleak hope.
He watched Amara pick up his pile of rumpled clothing off the floor and get to folding it. There was something odd about her, even more than the way she was dressed or her makeup. She was on edge. Her back was to C.C. but she was staring directly at her in the mirror. It wasn't like the adoring gazes of the other attendants, either. She finished folding his shirt and set it aside. Then she picked up his jeans by the belt loop.
She didn't fold them.
"Thanks," she said. "I've missed having animals. Do you think we could turn one into a cat?"
Percy quit squealing. Her hand had dipped into his pants pocket. Is she…?
Rather than another chuckle, C.C. let out a clear, musical laugh. "Don't be silly. They're just as intolerable as tomcats as they are as men. We might as well ship one in. Or perhaps Chrysaor will bring in a young lady to do the job."
"That would be cool," Amara said, withdrawing her hand from a third pocket and pulling out Riptide in its pen form.
She looked back at the cage and then made eye contact with Percy. She was probably trying to be reassuring, but she had a look about her that Percy recognized distinctly from their quest last year. It was that look of barely contained panic she got before something exciting happened.
"Speaking of shipping out," Amara said, still watching the mirror, "I think it's time to ship out."
"You're right," said C.C., who was kneeling down, wiping the already clean wet bar to the same perfect polish as everything else. "We've had a lot of newcomers lately."
The red in Amara's eyes seemed to glow as she uncapped the pen. For some reason, it didn't make the wooshing sound it usually made as in transformed into a sword. It was perfectly silent, just like her slow footsteps. The other guinea pigs got noisy, but C.C. was clearly unaware of her impending doom. Percy's rodent heart started beating like crazy.
"That's not what I meant." Amara stood directly behind C.C., her arms tense as she adjusted her grasp on Percy's weapon. "I meant me."
Something in her tone must have finally set off alarm bells, but it was too late. By the time C.C. had so much as turned her head, Riptide had already fallen.
Percy heard the door open, but he couldn't look away from the scene, even at the sound of a scream from out of sight. It was clear that Amara had landed a killing blow, but C.C. hadn't exactly burst into powder. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but since C.C. couldn't have been totally human, he hadn't expected it to be so… messy. Clearly, neither had Amara. She was in obvious shock. She'd drawn Riptide through the back of C.C.'s neck and to her shoulder. There was a lot of blood and, worse, gurgling. She's a demigod, Percy realized, finally trying to look away.
Amara took a few steps back, breathing heavily as she dropped Riptide to the floor. She was shaken, and he white jumpsuit stuck to her skin where the blood had splattered. She looked like she might stand there for hours, but there was another scream from the door. She recovered quickly.
There were two girls standing there, and one of them ran down the hall too quickly for Percy to get a good look at her. The other girl was… Annabeth.
Annabeth in that moment reminded him of the Percy in the magic mirror. Annabeth, but not Annabeth. Still, she looked beautiful, even if she was clearly horrified. "Amara," she cried out.
Amara walked briskly past her to peer around the corner where the attendant had disappeared. "You guys have horrible timing," she commented.
"What did you just do?" Annabeth was still saying. "Why did you do that?" Percy couldn't help but notice that the sound of shock was wearing off, though. Annabeth was starting to look confused rather than frightened.
"What you're feeling right now is the charmspeak wearing off," Amara told her. She hurried towards the cage and Percy squealed. She was finally going to get him out. Hopefully she knew how to turn him back into himself, too. "Hey, have any multis, by chance? Otherwise, I'll wind up doing this the hard way."
"Do what?" Now, Annabeth was sounding frustrated. She'd turned herself away from the body, but her head kept turning towards it and then quickly away. "Amara, what are you doing here? What's going on?"
Amara scooped Percy out of the cage. He felt her hands tighten almost imperceptibly around his middle as she took a long breath in. "Our good friend C.C. just turned Percy into a guinea pig. I figured I should step in."
Annabeth took a step forward. "Percy?"
"So, any multis?" Amara asked again.
"Hold on. Are you saying that she—" Annabeth gesturned to C.C.'s body and winced. It was turning into gold dust, but slowly. It was still a messy scene. "She's Circe?" It came out almost hushed, but it was obviously not a real question. Annabeth knew.
"Yes. Now for gods' sakes. Do you have any of those stupid multis? We're kind of on crunch time. Most of her attendants aren't skilled enough to beat us alone, but there are hundreds of them."
Amara dug Hermes's multivitamins out of her bag and handed them over, but she clearly still had questions. "Why are you here? Why'd you leave camp?"
Amara switched Percy to one hand to take the bottle and fumble with the cap. He wished she'd put him down, and right then she dropped a few gummies on the floor. "Here," she said, setting him down with all the care in the world and stepping away.
Percy wasn't completely sure what she was doing, but he could take a hint. He scurred towards the gummy and ate it as quickly as he could. His insides felt like molten lava all over again, but it was somehow less painful. And then, just as quickly as before, he'd transformed. Percy was a human again, sitting dazed on the floor.
"Nice to have you back," Amara said, but she was back at the cage again. She took the top of the vitamins and opened the top, but she lingered over the opening of the cage before turning back to them. Her face was serious. "Get off the floor. As soon as I put these in here, we have to run."
"Why?" Percy asked. What had C.C. called them? The problem children?
"These guys are… something special. They'll be a good distraction until we can get off the island."
"Then you'll have to do it," said Annabeth. She looked guarded. It was clear that she wasn't happy to see Amara there for some reason. He'd have to ask her later. "We don't have time to stick around."
"Obviously." Amara rolled her eyes and dumped what looked like half the container into the cage. Then, before the guinea pigs even had a chance to walk towards them, she started booking it. "Come on! Do you guys know a way off the island?"
She was moving so quickly that Percy didn't even have time to tell her she'd forgotten the lid before he and Annabeth had to start running, too. "Is there any reason that we need to be worried about those guys?" Annabeth asked. Somehow, she seemed to be unaffected by the sprinting.
"Well, if they're problem children as guinea pigs, I don't want to meet them as humans," Amara answered, picking up the pace at a loud noise that came from down the hall. "Percy, you mentioned a sailboat?"
"Yeah," Percy said, catching up with her. "This way."
They made their way to the docks pretty quickly, probably because the sounds from down the hallway also seemed to be moving pretty quickly. Percy turned his head a few times; he'd been in a kind of a daze when he walked by earlier. Finally, though, he spotted it: the boat, just a ways down the docks, bobbed peacefully along the water. It looked ready for action. "There," Percy said, making his way towards it.
"Percy, that's no sailboat," Annabeth said doubtfully as they advanced on the vessel.
"Yeah, that's a ship," Amara said, but she sounded less uncertain. It was comforting, somehow. "Wait, the Queen Anne's Revenge? Isn't she supposed to be sunken of the coast of Ocracoke Island or something?"
Percy was sure he would always be amazed at her ability to recall random, admittedly useless, things, but he also had bigger fish to fry. From the moment they boarded the vessel, something just felt right. This was definitely their way off the island.
"I guess not," Annabeth said. "Percy, are you sure…?"
"Yeah," he said with certainty, watching them both wobble a little. Sea legs, he thought. I guess I already have them.
Annabeth looked like she was about to say something, but she got interrupted before she could even make a sound. "Aarrrrrgh!" called an angry, heavily accented voice from just enough distance that it was hard enough to make out what they were saying. "Those scallawags are a'boardin' me vessel! Get 'em, lads!"
It didn't take a long look at the very hairy, very bearded man running full speed toward the ship with other very scary looking men holding curved swords to know that Percy needed to get them away from the docks in record time.
"Edward Teach?" Annabeth said in a little disbelief.
"Isn't Blackbeard supposed to have been decapitated?" Amara said in less disbelief.
"Must be a modern myth," Annabeth said. She held her knife, but for once, Percy had a feeling that it wouldn't be much use. As the men advanced, he felt a familiar tugging in his gut. This time it wasn't the water that answered the call—it was the ships. Ropes and riggings moved with so much speed that they whistled and snapped. There was a gust of air as the sail unfurled. Then, just as the men reached the gangplank, it fell into the water and the ship rocked out into the sea.
"Nice one," Amara commented.
Annabeth gave him a rare, tired smile. "I'm glad you're not a guinea pig."
Happy third birthday, MLTiaC.
Updates will be infrequent in the coming months. But you guys are my muse. Thanks for sticking with me.
