DISCLAIMER: Hey, guys. Guess who owns PJatO and HoO? CHUCK NORRIS.
No. It's Rick Riordan.
REVIEW RESPONSES:
Cookie Spasms – Nyx: Well, Cookie, I can say yes, there are going to be pairings. With a lot of characters. There are still a ton of Rick Riordan's yet to come in, and just as many OC's. But I will not tell you who the pairings are for until you read them. And, uh… Did you swap Hazel and Bianca's names by accident? 'Cause Hazel isn't in TTC? Or maybe I just read out of context and you meant a different book? And THANK YOU for that note. I was unaware of that. Can't have Mary-Sues, can we? I'll work on it. There are some events already planned for her that should help. Thanks so much for pointing that out.
oOo
My mind hates me.
It, like most things, is cursed by irony. I've worked for years to find a way around the troublesome part of my demigod powers – nights and nights of trying to ignore the ringing in my ears, the taste on my tongue. Deaths weren't as powerful when they're far away. But they do happen, and being the Ghost King, I do sense it.
It's most noticeable when I close my eyes and empty my mind in an attempt to sleep. The constant noise and twitches and strange feelings in my chest don't just leave me like the rest of the world will.
The one night in a long while that I was tired enough to escape the constant chatter, my brain happened to be busy working on the very problems that made me want to melt it.
I tossed and turned beneath the covers for hours. The bed was too soft and just too easy; I wasn't used to the luxuries of comfort and safety when I slept. My mind was determined to take advantage and turned things over on its own, no matter how I tried to stop it.
Something isn't right. It just doesn't add up.
But what was it? Gaea's interest in Bree was one, but a dark and bristling sensation in my gut told me that there was another.
If only I had just a little more information.
I got so worked up, I wondered if telling Hunter and Brook the full story would actually save more lives than it'd endanger. Maybe they were smart enough to actually get something out of all this mess.
But no. I sighed heavily. The only thing I knew was the 'who' factor. And it really didn't amount to much.
When sleep finally came, it was dreamless.
I woke feeling tired, battered, and bruised. Marks from our scuffle with the Manticore finally fading. But my mind began to churn itself to bits and the sounds of the dead were rising once more, and I knew there was no going back.
With a groan, I lifted my head and looked around. Being on the edge of the hall, my bedroom was the only one with a window. Through it I could confirm, despite the city's harsh unnatural lights shrouding the sky, that it was still maybe two hours before dawn.
Perfect. Now I had to wait until I left for the Underworld.
And I wasn't exactly dying for more time to think.
I laid on my back, glaring hatefully at the ceiling, for a while. I took nectar for my leg and removed the brace to find I could stand without it. Dark thoughts still played with my conscious and started to spread an itching, frustrating fire through my limbs. Said limbs then began to twitch. A fierce, aching need to be moving gripped me like sharp and thorny claws.
So I got up and paced the room. Nothing. It left my shoulders and arms free. They jumped and trembled and did me no good.
At last, I caught sight of the adjourning bathroom. Why not?
I sorted through my bag until I found the bar of soap and small bottle of traveling shampoo I kept for when I got opportunities like this. I then killed as much time as I could standing beneath the shower's steaming stream.
It helped. My muscles relaxed and let tension go, not unlike the way I'd seen the calm restoration of Camp after the war had ended. My mind became fuzzy and high on the thick steam. Thoughts became muddled and almost sleepy again.
I stepped out of the bathroom dressed and ready to go, hair still dripping. It felt nice to leave it wet. But frustration rose again like an ugly weed when I saw that I still had thirty minutes left.
I pulled my jacket tighter around myself and mumbled. The dark, questionable thoughts were emerging again.
Before they could take over, though, I had let out a long breath and sat down on the bed. Getting worked up with myself wasn't going to fix anything. It took me a minute, but eventually I had a clear, awake mind.
The prophecy is a lie. It's probably something around it that isn't making sense, and in reality, that would make sense seeing as Gaea's just messing with us. I nodded to myself, very much liking this conclusion. But that worm in my gut was still telling me that I was just a tad off the mark. Again.
I glanced at my window, judging the time. Still a while before sunup. Could I last that long?
Then I remembered I wasn't alone. There was one person I could ask to distract me. Or even help.
Well, two, but something told me Phil was just going to annoy me again.
I got up and opened the door, creeping down the hallway. All the way to the Hecate statue. I waved to it as I stopped and hung over the staircase railing, looking. Bree was very fond of her sisters, I thought with a pang of bitter grief, and had probably crashed with them downstairs after they'd returned.
Brook was sprawled out with Moon and other wolves next to the black Cerberus statue. Still in wrinkled clothes and hair a mess and bow squeezed tight in her little fingers. Despite her recent distaste for me (it had not faded with the spat Bree and I had), the sight made me smile. She was like her mother. But, though not totally clean, much more innocent.
Hunter was on the couch. Well, part of her was. Her legs were sticking up off the back of it and hanging in the air like old fence posts. One arm was on the couch and the other on the carpet, next to her head. This was not near as cute as Brook was. Something about it seemed very, very dangerous. I dimly wondered if she had ever accidentally killed someone in her sleep.
Seeing Bree wasn't with them, I turned and made my way across the hall to her room. The door stared at me, cold and stoic. A wave of my hand set the knob-less slab of rock swinging open.
"Bree," I whispered, the door just cracked so that I wasn't quite intruding. "You up?"
"You know," I heard Phil call from downstairs, "I could say, 'I told you so' right now, because, you know, I did. That you enjoy her company. But I won't."
I ignored him, hoping he'd shut up before he woke the others. "Bree?" I called again.
No answer. Should I wake her? Now, if it were Hunter, I wouldn't dare. But Bree was just a tad less likely to kill me. And it wasn't too long before sunrise.
But, obviously, I valued sleep. I wasn't about to deprive her of it.
Half jealous, half glad she was able to catch a few z's, I smiled and turned to leave. Just two steps away from forgetting about it.
But as I turned, I saw something through the cracked door. A blanket strewn across the carpet.
A frown found its usual position on my face. Then it deepened. I pushed the door open and confirmed it; the twisted sheets had been tortured there on the floor beside the bed.
The empty bed.
"Bree?" I asked, no longer whispering. Alarm began to leak into my chest. "Bree? Where are you?"
Of course, the abandoned room graced me with no answer. I pushed the door open all the way and strode in on mechanical legs. While they checked behind the dresser, behind the bed, in the bathroom, my spiteful mind whirled.
She couldn't be gone. She wasn't. We were all here and we had the statues. Nothing could've invaded this house, at least not silently. She had to be somewhere. She had to be.
But the dark nook beneath the bed was empty, too. As were the other bedrooms.
"Yep. See. You were right," Phil said, rather out of character.
"Shut up!" I howled as I raced down the stairs. "She's probably in the basement or something."
"Now, why on earth would she be there? You ought to come to your senses. Why am I the one always doing this for you?"
"Because you're so damn fickle and righteous about everything," I spat when I raced past. Thanatos glared coldly at me as I leapt down the basement stairs.
One by one, I flung open the doors, running as fast as I could while still checking thoroughly. She wasn't behind any of them. When I got to the training cavern, I called again, checking behind each pile of crates lest she, for some strange reason, be lying wounded behind one.
Nothing.
Alarm was changed, corrupted and proven right, conceded to the point it turned to horror. I raced back up the stairs and slammed the door behind me. Where else to look? The bathroom in the kitchen! I bolted for it without another thought.
"Nico," Phil called. "You're being ridiculous."
"Be quiet!"
"You knew this was gonna happen. You knew what the stakes were. People are only flesh and bone. Even her. You knew this was how it'd end."
"There is no 'this'! She's crashed somewhere odd, that's all!"
"Listen to yourself. You're the very image of what you wanted to avoid. Even lost in denial."
I shot through the kitchen again and yanked the blinds aside. Nothing in the backyard.
No. Great gods of Olympus, I knew my luck, but not this. This wasn't fair. We were in a safe haven and we'd all been there and I had dared to take a chance at last. I'd gone against Father's orders and defied my own hard-earned instincts.
But irony haunts me. There is nothing else I could say.
"They never found Bianca's body, either," Phil added, rambling to himself.
The name felt like live wires strung through me. "I said shut up! There's no way anyone could've gotten in here!"
"Oh, sure. She just left voluntarily and handed herself in."
"You don't know what-"
"SHUT THE FRONT DOOR YOU PSYCHO I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" a furious voice exploded, making me flinch. We'd woken Hunter. And a grumpy Hunter might as well have been her father.
Call me crazy, but I charged the demon.
I left the kitchen behind, yanked a pillow off the chair, and threw it right in her shocked face.
I got it back in the same manner. "What in Hades was that for?!" Hunter screeched.
The pillow fell, forgotten, to the carpet. A cold breeze ran through the room as the words forced themselves past my lips. They didn't have my permission. Nor did my mind. But it happened, anyway.
"Wake up. Bree's gone."
oOo
She was quite glade now that her luck had run out. The game of chances was over. Reality ruled this battlefield now.
And reality, she could handle easily.
Always make the best of what you can. Here was her chance. It wasn't too good to be true or particularly horrible. Not lucky or the opposite. It just was.
The fact was so reassuring. No more strange events, no more of the guessing game. This was real, and she knew how to deal with it, and deal with it she would. It would require work as it should. It would require skill. But no luck.
Such an easy game it was now. She had lived on these streets her whole life. She'd taught herself since childhood how to deal with reality.
Make the best of what you can.
It felt good to live in a sensible world again. She reveled in the sight of the raven-haired girl walking past, glaring at the air before her and muttering about how hard-headed a skull could be. Perfect sense.
After all, Bree could afford to walk LA's streets alone. She had the Underworld beneath her combat boots. She had shadows at every corner, even in the hot California days. And it made sense that it would be her instead of Hunter. It should always take effort. Bree was not the girl's target.
But she could make do with this. Easily.
She smiled and slid into position. A yell to startle her into a crucial moment of shock, some magic in case things went wrong. This could very easily work.
No luck, no chances. Just Bree, the girl, and her smarts. This was the world she was familiar with.
Watching Bree stride up the street, she fell into position to wait.
oOo
Stupid skeleton. I know what the skull's for, but geez, that guy was too hard-headed.
Pluto ought to give him a pay raise for that sort of act, I thought.
Things were not going my way today. Romans invading not only this mess with Gaea but a quest full of Greeks. Charon shutting me out just as he had to Nico.
And that stupid dream.
The shadows were lightening and fading. The city's cluttered song was in full bloom now. Cars and whistles and chatter and the whirr of machinery. Dawn's pink and orange streaks were beginning to fade into the light, shining, glowing blue that followed the sun's glorious rebirth each day. Light blessed this crowded, cursed place now. There was far too much of it for the events that conspired here now. For the clash of wills and sick plans of the Fates orchestrated in this too-cheerful stage.
Despite that light, my dream still haunted me.
I missed the shadows that'd scared me so deeply the night before. At least, as Nico had pointed out, I could've used them to kill the things they held. But they were gone now. The sun was out. The fierce power of the night had abandoned me. And the sun was not enough to banish the demon wolves and crooked, raspy voice from my mind.
This was not fair.
I shouldn't have come out here, I scolded myself, clenching my fists and glaring at the street ahead. Pedestrians didn't usually come this close to Charon's office, so it was empty right now.
But a voice in the back of my mind whispered. I'd had no choice. Even now, I feared going back to that house.
Your sisters will be up by now. Nico, too. You'll be able to send him off at dawn…
…Dawn!
I gasped and stared at the East, but it did not betray me. The sky was light. The shadows had indeed faded. The sun had risen.
No! No! I had hours when I walked into the Studios! Surely I didn't talk to Charon for that long…?
Too late, I recalled what Nico had said of the tunnel to the Underworld. "Magical corridors often have their own clocks."
A few minutes in the Universal Studios must've been hours out here, in the real world. It was the only explanation. There was no other way to fit the sun's great travels into the past events.
And now daylight flooded this forest of concrete. I was in the Daylight Disaster's territory.
I have to get back, I realized with new horror, glancing nervously at the nearby corners. Fast.
Instinctively, I turned to the nearest alley, knowing I could shadow travel from there. Gaea could send no demon that fast after me. I took two eager steps forward before I saw it.
Just a flicker. I'd have missed it if she'd remained still. But the shift of light was enough. My hand flew for Întuneric.
"Wait!" a startled voice cried. Something rushed at me from the dark alley.
I didn't wait much longer than that.
A cold surge of shadows shot forward from behind the figure, and it came sprawling forward. I danced to one side and, as it passed, clipped its shoulder with Întuneric. A pained shriek told me the Stygian iron had done its job.
She whirled around with daggers drawn without pausing, though, and I let instinct take over. Perhaps Hunter was right, and my mind did work on Kronos's sly tricks; though yet again, Nico had done this, too. It normally didn't make sense to give your opponent ground.
Unless you had a sword short enough to take advantage of their extra-long lunge.
I saw it a moment before it played out. She shot forward in a blur, and I was ready, timing my move perfectly. Just a little closer, and I could get under her arm and-
My boots made a hollow plodding sound on a street drain, just two moments before I was to strike.
It exploded.
A startled, drowned yell escaped as I went flying backward, drenched in the water that'd blasted out. I choked and spat and then sucked in more when I landed flat on my back in the street. Asphalt scraped painfully up my spine.
From the sidewalk, the girl cried out again, words unintelligible to me.
You don't think in a fight, and you don't stop. Still breathless, I rolled to my feet and charged, not even bothering to confirm her exact position first. Two steps in, I hit the shadows.
I left them behind when I reached her, well faster than she could ready herself.
We crashed into one another with enough force to crack bone. I locked onto her shoulders and used my knees to set us rolling, Întuneric pressed to her back. She screeched and water splashed on us again.
Well, on me. She remained dry.
The moment of wet, slippery distraction was enough. She squirmed violently and managed to get me beneath her. The air was squeezed painfully from my chest and something sharp – her dagger – pierced the skin just beneath my collarbone.
I cried out and shoved her off before she could drive the knife home. The bloodied dagger went skidding across the pavement.
Not giving her the time to charge again, I darted back out into the street and whirled, feeling that blessed sun's warmth on my back. Imagining it burning in her eyes.
It worked. She paused and squinted, uncertain. Water was still spraying from the busted street drain and gathering in a wave, heading towards me, but all too slowly.
About time this was ended.
I crouched low and sprinted to my right but still towards her, lifting Întuneric. She saw me leave the protection of the sun and whirled to face me, daggers raised and glinting crimson-
-And I darted to the left, making sure to cross the sun's deadly rays again before hooking my arm around her shoulders and driving her back, back across the sidewalk and hard into the brick wall. With a startled grunt, her daggers clattered to the pavement.
I pulled her back and slammed her against the wall again to make sure she understood. Then, one hand across her shoulders and the other holding Întuneric to her throat, I whispered, "Put down the water toys. If I so much as hear a drop, I'll kill you here and now."
Behind me, there was another splash as the wave hit the road.
I panted, glaring at the dirty girl I'd captured. Hah. One thing I could knock into its place today. Not even the bleeding sting across my collar could daunt me.
"Stop…" she rasped, squirming uncomfortably. But she made no move to escape.
The fire of the fight still blazed in me. "Fine. I'll let you go. But start one funny move, and you won't finish it."
She gulped and nodded. "Alright. Alright. I got it."
Slowly, I stepped back, making sure to keep my sword level.
She glared up at me with startling turquoise eyes. Sharp, angry ones. Her dark hair hung oily and stringy in her face. She looked like she'd been living in the sewers. Her camouflage outfit was indeed that; I'm sure she'd blend right in down there, what with the mess it was in. A golden chain necklace dangled like glittering beads from her throat.
No, not beads. Little gold plates designed like waves.
She spat on the concrete and said coldly, "You know, I only said 'hi'."
"I wasn't willing to take chances," I explained in an equal tone. "What are you doing here?"
"I happen to live here," she growled. "I came to ask you for help."
An unchecked laugh burst past my lips. Help. That was so funny. I couldn't save myself or my sisters or even Nico from the dream or Charon or the Romans or Gaea. There would be no help for anyone. "You're lost, then."
"No, no I'm not." She glanced around nervously. Then, seeing no one, held out a shaking hand. "My name is Shay."
I glanced at her hand, at her. The fire of the fight had vanished from her eyes.
Întuneric lowered. I shook her hand. "Bree."
"I know. I've been following you guys for a long while," she admitted.
"You must be desperate for help."
"You have no idea," she muttered, glancing behind me at the rainwater flooding the street. "Look, it's not safe to speak here. You know that things have been changing during the daytime. If I gave you an address, could you send someone to meet me there at noon?"
Suspicion unfurled in my stomach again, and the hand holding Întuneric twitched. "…What location? What someone?"
Those turquoise eyes met mine, as if she knew they reminded me of painful things, and intensified with fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of hope. But hope she dared. "I need to speak with Hunter, the Daughter of Time."
oOo
Nyx: I like that one. At the beginning. I prefer to think that, like me, Nico is kind of philosophical when he's got too much time on his hands. And that of course has its ups and downs.
Nic: I bet y'all have some ideas about Shay now, huh?
Nyx: Please do review! In particular about Shay, yes, but anything else is welcome, too. Thanks. I don't have much time so I'll wrap this up fast… What else…
Nic: Cover.
Nyx: Yes, the cover's coming great. The Clone Stamp Tool is great for scales.
Nic: Kol it sure sounds like it.
Nyx: :3
*the chapter name is in reference to the Shadow Children series, guys*