A lot of shit goes down in this chapter, so I apologize if things get confusing. But there's another cameo here too, so make sure to keep an eye out!
Time passed. How much time exactly, Lauren couldn't be sure.
For what felt like hours, everything consisted of jabs, swipes, ducks and rolls. Andleut was dead, and the Jotunns were left to fend for themselves, since Lauren had also turned against them. Their numbers were steadily dwindling, but the same went for Chiron's forces.
Stark was a red and gold blur. He flew from building to building, emptying them out and helping any demigod that he could find. In the distance, Lauren would often hear the roar of the Hulk, or the rumbling of thunder summoned by Thor. At the thought of the Avengers, she suddenly remembered Clint—where he was, what she had done to him.
She stopped in her tracks.
Was he fighting again?
The answer came in the form of a speck, standing atop one of the many buildings. The speck jumped from roof to roof, getting closer to where she and Stark were fighting. The Jotunns in its surrounding area fell. When Lauren looked closely, she saw the arrows sticking out of their bodies.
Slowly but surely, Barton killed off dozens of the Frost Giants. He disappeared for a while, as Lauren continued fighting; when she looked again, he was shooting arrows on the streets. And she couldn't help the smile that inched up her face. There was a slight limp in his step, and his stance was a bit lopsided. Her guilt easily overshadowed her relief.
Then, he was standing in front of her. He loosed an arrow that lodged itself into a wall, before it exploded and killed three unfortunate Frost Giants. He switched his gaze to her, and Lauren could see that he was still wary of her—expectant, though not as hostile anymore.
"We found Romanoff," Lauren said simply.
It became obvious, then, how strongly Barton felt for the Black Widow. It may not have been love, but it was something very close to that. While his face remained stoic, his eyes conveyed the warring emotions within him.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"In a Rum House by 47th and Broadway," Stark replied, shooting down a line of dracaenae that had been chasing an injured demigod.
Barton's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Why's she there?"
"I had to get her somewhere safe after she got frozen by a giant chicken monster."
"Petrified," Lauren corrected, "By the Basilisk. It has been dealt with, but she will have to remain there, out of harm's way, until the battle is over. Hopefully, the fight will go in our favor, so Chiron will be able to bring her back."
Clint stepped forward. "Bring her back?"
"Her heart still beats. Chiron is sure to know of a way to release her and the other demigods from their current state, but he will need time and resources, and help—all of which he does not have access to at the moment."
"And if we don't win? Will Orion help?"
At the grim look that settled on his face, Lauren sighed. "It is best not to think about that. Right now, we have to focus on killing him."
"You mean you have to focus on killing him," Stark interjected, earning him a deep scowl from her.
They broke away from each other, rejoining the fight but remaining close enough in order to talk. "Do you even know where he is?" Clint asked.
"Yes," said Lauren. "San Francisco, California."
"And how exactly do you plan on getting to the other side of the country, princess?" Stark said.
"I'm working on it."
As the words escaped her lips, something fell from the sky, as rapid as a beam of sunlight.
Lauren jumped backwards in alarm, staring wide-eyed at the column of mist that had fallen in front of her. White haze crawled from the pillar, like smoke, and she dared not touch it.
"What the hell is that?" Barton muttered.
The pillar flattened and became vaguely circular in shape, like a mirror. Colors appeared on the surface, and soon, an image. Jason Grace stood there in his Greek armor, looking severely battle-worn. He was in some kind of grand chamber, the likes of which Lauren had only seen once before, on Asgard.
"Jason?" Lauren said. "What is this?"
"It's some kind of communication spell," he replied, shaking his head. "There's no time to explain. Percy and Nico are here. We're on Asgard, and we got Khione."
Her eyebrows rose. "As in, you—"
"Defeated her, yes. Leo's doohickeys took her out, turned her to ash. We gave the residues to Odin and told him to scatter it around the Nine Realms."
Surprised, Lauren said, "And he agreed?"
Jason nodded. "She won't be coming back for a long time… But, Lauren, Nico's hurt."
"How bad?"
"Not too bad," he replied, after glancing to the side, at something she couldn't see. "Look, Lauren, with Nico injured, we can't risk taking on Tyr. He's too strong. Percy's got this crazy idea that he's drawing his power from someone else."
In the background, Lauren heard the indignant voice of Percy, saying, "It's not crazy!"
"He is right. It's not," she said. "Tyr somehow linked himself to Orion, Khione, and the Frost Giant Andleut. Andleut is dead, so there is only Orion left, but…"
"You don't have any Olympians on speed dial, do you?" She shook her head and watched as a look of weary resignation flickered across Jason's face. He was just as hopeless as she, yet he pursed his lips and firmly nodded to her. "Alright… how do we go about this?"
The steely determination in his eyes rekindled something in her. Something Apollo had said to her came to mind; as stupid as it was, she understood it a bit better than before. Sometimes, it's better to side with the losing team and lose the match, than to join the winning team and lose the entire season.
Lifting her chin, she said to Jason, "I will go to California, and I will weaken Orion as much as I can. But I need you to do the same with Tyr. It is the only way for this to work. Have your counterparts arrived?"
"Proteus is here—that's Percy's—and so is Macaria—that's Nico's. The only one missing is mine. Hephaestus. Slim chance that he'll be coming, but I'm still hoping." He scratched his head. "Quick question though. Uh… how do you plan on getting to San Fran all the way from New York?"
With a sigh, she shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Any ideas?"
"Chiron didn't bring any of the pegasi, did he?"
"No."
"Shadow travelling is out of the question. Flying would take too long, even in that rusted Iron Man suit."
Stark was offended. "Hey!"
"Transference, then," Lauren offered. "Don't any of the Aesir know how to transport?"
Jason pursed his lips. "Thor?"
Somewhere outside the view of the communication spell, Lauren heard a girl rapidly muttering something about redemption and "a good heart". Oddly enough, Jason was looking in the direction of the voice, so he must have known who was speaking.
A pale hand came into view, touching Jason's shoulder and pushing him a bit to the side. A man then stepped up beside him, garbed in black and green leather. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. Lauren may never have met him before, but she'd heard enough about those green eyes to know who she was looking at.
"Loki," she acknowledged grimly.
Clint walked forward, shoulders drawn back and nostrils flaring. Lauren placed a hand on his chest and kept him from getting any closer to the communication spell, fearing that he would break it somehow.
"Don't," she warned.
"Do you know what he's done? How many people he's killed?" he said. "You're willing to just trust him? Him?"
"I do not like it any more than you, but if he knows a way to get me to California, then I have to hear him out." Pushing harder against his firm build, if only to steal his attention, she moved her head so that he would look at her instead of Loki. "Clint, I said I would fix all this, and I will."
At her words, he relaxed somewhat. Lauren guided him backwards a couple more steps before turning around again.
"God of Mischief and Lies," she greeted. "What charade will you speak to me now?"
A sly smirk crept up his face. "I see that the Greeks have become prideful. A god such as I is never quick to offer assistance, but here I stand, and yet you mock my goodwill."
She narrowed her eyes. "Tell me of your idea, or leave. Do not waste my time with your taunting."
Again, Lauren heard a girl speak to Loki from somewhere outside the view of the spell—"Don't make her mad," she said. Lauren soon became curious as to who this girl was, but she knew that it wasn't the time to ask.
Loki grinned one last time before putting on a professional face. "I will not be able to transport you myself, for that would require too much energy. But I know someone who can."
"A friend of yours?" Lauren asked.
"A very dear friend, yes."
"Can he be trusted?"
Just as quickly as it had gone, his grin returned, but Lauren could sense nothing malicious about it. "Of course," he said. "Just don't slap his behind, or he'll push you off."
Lauren frowned in confusion. Why would I slap his behind?
Before she could ask, a large group of Asgardian soldiers burst through two large doors behind Loki. "To the throne room!" one of them yelled. "All men, to the throne room!"
A raven-haired woman ran past the communication spell, trailed by a man with his hair in a bun and a large man with flowing red locks. Loki had turned away from Lauren and was watching the scene unfold behind him, ears pricked.
"Captain Einar!" the woman called. "What is it? What's going on?"
"Wolves!" the captain replied. "Tyr's summoned wolves!"
As they continued on their way, Lauren was able to make out the voice of Percy in the background: "Just when the Frost Giants are running out, the little butt sends in wolves. Great!"
"Lauren, we have to go," Jason said urgently.
"Loki, your friend," Lauren demanded. "He will come here?"
"His name is Letfetti," he said. "After precisely 61 seconds, he will appear before you in a gust of light. I hope he serves you well, Hunter of Artemis."
Following a bow and a flourish of his sword, Loki turned and trailed after the Asgardian soldiers. A girl rushed after him, seemingly coming from behind the communication spell. Her silver hair was all Lauren saw before she disappeared from view.
The colors on the communication spell became dull. Jason's face and the Asgardian chamber dissolved. Lauren heard Jason say, "Good luck, Lauren," before the fog evaporated all together.
"Where is Stark?" she asked, noticing how the billionaire hadn't said a word since Jason had insulted his Iron Man suit. When no reply came, she turned and was met with the serious eyes of Agent Barton. Huffing in exasperation, she said, "Do not give me that look right now."
"I don't see why I shouldn't," he retorted. "You just decided to trust the man who brainwashed dozens of people, including me, killed hundreds more, and stabbed Coulson. So yeah, I think I have the right to give you this look."
"Do you really think I enjoyed negotiating with him?"
"I think you enjoy opposing everything I say. I guess I can't blame you. I mean, after all, I do look exactly like the person who killed all your friends—"
Not another word escaped his mouth before Lauren had the tip of her sword positioned beneath his neck. Her thin line of patience had finally snapped. Her hand was shaking with fury. It was a several moments afterwards that she realized what she was doing.
Slowly, she lowered her sword, stepped away from him and turned her head. She focused on her breathing—in, out, in, out—and allowed her anger to dissipate. They couldn't fight amongst themselves. Not when everything was at stake.
"I'm sorry," Barton said quietly. "That was out of line."
She said nothing. A distant noise had now become a roar, and instinctively, she ducked her head just as a beam of white burst forth from the clouds. Lauren shielded her eyes from the blinding light. When the ringing in her ears had cleared, she removed her hand from her face and gaped in awe.
Before her was the most beautiful stallion she had ever seen. His mane and tail were the color of night, while his coat was purely silver—constantly changing as his muscles shifted and as he moved beneath the sunlight. His fur gradually became darker going down his limbs, but each of his legs ended with white socks.
Standing at possibly 19 hands tall, he easily towered over her form. But she regarded him with equality, sensing a deep intelligence in the creature that piqued her curiosity.
"Loki wasn't lying, huh?" Barton muttered. "In a gust of light."
"The perfect entrance for the perfect horse."
Vigilantly, she approached the stallion, holding her free hand out as she softly called out little greetings. Once she was standing directly in front of him and he had smelled her hand, she gently stroked his face, letting her fingers travel down his neck and to his sides.
"Greetings, Letfetti," she murmured. "May I ride you?"
He neighed softly and blinked at her as his ears pointed in her direction. He stomped his foot, but not in an aggravated manner.
"Get on, then," Barton suddenly said.
Sheathing the Traust sword, she mounted the horse, careful not to place her hand anywhere near his behind. Once she was safely atop the saddle, the horse nickered and began stomping his hooves in earnest, even shaking his head a bit. Lauren adjusted her grip on the reins and patted his neck.
Then, she twisted to meet Barton's gaze. "Heroes like us must rage against the dying of the light, yes?"
A look of recognition crossed his face and he acknowledged her words with a brisk nod. He reached over his shoulder, wrapped his fingers around an arrow, and drew his bow. Without another word, he turned around and jogged back into the fray.
Taking a deep breath, she said to the stallion, "Take me to San Francisco."
Letfetti trotted forward obediently. Soon, it became a full-on gallop. Lauren tightened her grip on the reins when she saw how close they were getting to the horde of battling monsters and demigods. Before she could stop them, her vision was overcome with white light, and she felt as if she was floating.
She saw nothing; heard nothing; smelled nothing. But she could feel Letfetti's muscles shifting between her legs, could feel his mane whipping against her hands and face while some unseen winds blew their way. It occurred to her that it was very cold.
And then very abruptly, her sense of sight returned to her. After blinking away the spots that came with the sudden, harsh light, she was welcomed by the spectacle of San Francisco in utter chaos.
It was when she had dismounted him that she felt the nerves settling in.
In an effort to compose herself, she unsheathed her sword and let its power flow through her, binding them together as it always did every time she held it.
"Thank you," she said to the stallion.
He replied to her by throwing his head back and trotting in a circle. Without breaking his momentum, he ran away from the noise of clashing swords and, eventually, disappeared in the same beam of light that had brought him to her in the first place.
Once again, Lauren was alone.
She knew she couldn't afford to stop and think. Her thoughts were the only things keeping her from charging headfirst into battle, but at the same time, they were the only things keeping her from running away.
Steeling herself, she took a step forward, and then another, and then another. Before she knew it, Lauren was back in the fray and fighting like hell.
Dozens of monsters fell by her sword. She was surprised to find that there were many resurrected creatures rampaging through San Francisco—such as the Colchis Bulls. Upon raising her head, she found a flock of Stymphalian Birds flying overhead, probably the very same ones she had encountered days ago on Stark's plane.
Khione was certainly busy, she mused grimly.
As she journeyed deeper into the city, she heard the roar of something incredibly large. She turned to find the Nemean Lion tromping down the block. Several Roman archers were shooting at it from the ground, but their arrows merely bounced off of its hide. They obviously hadn't heard the stories about it before.
Lauren ran towards one of the archers and called for his attention. She watched as he drew his bow and got an arrow right into the Lion's eye. The Lion bellowed and continued its rampage with renewed vigor.
"Hey, you!" Lauren called. (Not one of her finest moments, but she didn't know his name. Still, it got the job done.)
The archer in question turned in the direction of Lauren with a slightly panicked expression.
"You will not be able to get anything through that pelt," she said. "Get its mouth open and shoot arrows into the back of its throat."
He looked doubtful. "How are you sure that that'll work?"
"Experience." Without waiting for a reply, she walked away and turned a corner.
An underpass labeled "Caldecott Tunnel" came into view, and with it came a sense of discomfort, as if Lauren wasn't supposed to be there. She followed her instincts, letting the discomfort grow inside her, until it led her into a service tunnel near the main Caldecott Tunnel. In the darkness of the passageway, Lauren could make out the glinting armor of monsters and Romans alike.
As she reached the end of the tunnel, taking in the sight of an averagely wide, slithering river, there was a sudden commotion behind her.
"Wait!" a girl called, followed by a single collision of metal against metal, and then the sound of a sword cutting through flesh. "Wait! Hey, wait!"
Lauren rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this."
Regarding the body of water before her, she was starting to consider the idea of just swimming across it, when someone grabbed her arm.
Instinctively, she pushed her elbow back until it collided with a sternum. She whirled around, sword raised over her head. Her blade clashed with something else, but she'd seen her opponent's face. And apparently she wasn't an opponent at all.
"Hazel?" Lauren immediately pulled her sword arm back, shocked to find the centurion standing there instead of one of Khione's monsters.
"Geez, Lauren!" she said. "Calm down!"
"Sorry." Dazed, and even a bit sheepish, Lauren bowed her head.
Hazel, the soft-spoken person that she was, just nodded in acceptance of her apology, smiling slightly. "Forgiven," she said. "Listen, were you just about to swim across the Little Tiber?"
"Well, yes." Why did Hazel sound so surprised?
"Lauren, that's the Little Tiber, a smaller version of the one in Rome. It's the camp's first layer of protection. It kills anything that's Greek, and completely washes away any Greek blessings—including the Curse of Achilles…" The Roman frowned. "Percy didn't tell you?"
"No, he did not." Sighing at the situation she had gotten herself into, Lauren asked, "How can I get past it?"
"There's a bridge not far from here. A few minutes away, but it's the only way in."
As they started jogging by the bank of the river, Lauren said, "Did Khione's army get in as well, or have they been focusing on the city in general?"
"Just the city."
Lauren turned towards Camp Jupiter again and noticed the little vibrations beneath her feet. They could easily have been coming from outside the Caldecott Tunnel, but there was a pit in her stomach. She looked to Hazel. "He is in there, isn't he?"
The girl's expression darkened. "He arrived a few minutes ago. I got Reyna's distress signal just before I found you."
All they could do was hope that Reyna had lots of resources in the camp to keep Orion at bay. Lauren gazed at the buildings of New Rome in the distance, a familiar emotion bubbling in her chest. "How did he get in?" she asked, seeking to distract herself. "Surely you had traps set on the bridge and near the camp."
"We did. He jumped over them all."
"That is… unfortunate."
Hazel snorted, but the anxiety was clear on her face. She was worried for Reyna, and perhaps someone else as well.
"Hazel," Lauren said in a gentle voice. "Is Frank in there too?" The Roman nodded, and Lauren set her jaw in grim determination. "I will kill Orion if it is the last thing that I do."
"Yeah, but… don't you need a god for that?"
Lauren was trying to remain optimistic, but Hazel was right. She needed a god to kill Orion, and none of them had been of any help so far. Perhaps she was just running headfirst into her doom, but she was willing to put her life on the line, if only it meant weakening Tyr enough for Jason and the others to put him down.
The bridge stretched across each bank of the Little Tiber, paralleled to the long line of mounds in the distance that was Berkeley Hills. It was built out of stone and wood. It looked like it had once been respectable enough, but now there was practically nothing left of it but a few stone blocks and wooden beams with splintered ends.
"We'll have to jump," Hazel said. "The first wave was really stupid—ran straight for the bridge, and this happened. They ended up just backing away and focusing on raising hell in the city. A good thing for us, now that I think about it. The traps were our first and last means of protecting New Rome. This way, nothing can get in.
"Except Orion."
Lauren stepped onto the farthest possible beam-end and leapt across the river. It didn't feel like too big of a feat, but when she turned around, Hazel was outright gaping at her. Lauren gestured to her. "Come on."
"Lauren, the Styx must have given you super strength or something," Hazel replied, shaking her head. "I can't jump that far, not without help."
After a moment's hesitation, Lauren bobbed her head in acceptance. "Lead your legionnaires to victory, then."
Hazel grinned, and then pointed to a flat bunch of land just northwest of where they were. "If I were you, I'd check the Field of Mars first. Reyna's smart. It's an open arena there, but there are a bunch of trenches and hidden passages too. Orion wouldn't be able to fit in those."
It occurred to Lauren that it was the eleventh hour. After a few more minutes, she would be locked in battle with Orion, a fight to the death. Either she was going to survive, or she wasn't. She decided that she didn't want anyone to remember her as the bossy, inconsiderate girl.
"Thank you, Hazel Levesque," she said earnestly. "For everything.
"Kick his butt." Hazel threw her a quick grin before turning around and running back to the service tunnel.
Taking a deep breath, Lauren broke into a sprint towards the Field of Mars.
The Traust sword seemed to sense the urgency in her movements. Wave after wave of power entered her veins, erasing any trace of her earlier fatigue. Lauren took a moment to thank the gods for allowing her to be bonded with such a sword.
If she was going to die, then she would go down happily, as long as she had the Traust sword in her hand and the honor of knowing that no one else was worthy to hold it.
Orion had left tracks on the snow. It seemed that he was heavier than he gave himself credit to be. Lauren followed the trail and came across a small knoll. Orion's tracks showed that he jumped over, but she could see a small opening in the otherwise thick snow.
She dug into it to reveal a hole just large enough to crawl through. Sneaking up on Orion wasn't going to do any good, though, when her only weapon against him was a close-ranged one.
Lauren jumped over the knoll and immediately caught sight of the giant. He wasn't engaged in a fight; she saw that his shoulders were slumped and his steps were slow, circling the field—as if he was looking for someone.
He was only a couple of meters away. And Hazel hadn't been lying—everything within the whole perimeter was flat and unyielding, and it wasn't covered in snow. Lauren guessed that there was some form of heaters under the ground.
Smart, she thought, and she needed to be smart now. Dive headlong into combat with Orion, or sneak up on him?
The latter didn't feel like an agreeable decision, given the nature of her situation. So, with head held high, Lauren trudged onto the Field of Mars, not even trying to quiet her footsteps so as to announce her presence. And it worked.
Orion stopped his searching, his attention caught, and a malicious smile crept up his lips. "I knew that no one could hold you back," he said. "Not even Tyr."
As Lauren grew closer, he raised the sword in his hand. It had a single-edged blade, recurved, and Lauren knew that it was a kopis—although, it was definitely larger than any regular kopis. Its grip was wide enough to fully accommodate Orion's hand.
She raised an eyebrow. "New toy?"
"Tyr had it made specifically for me," he said as he looked down at the blade, touching the metal. "It can kill both demigods and humans, so that, when I'm done with you, I can kill anything that's left of your precious Avengers. No one will protect the humans then."
Lauren scowled. "You underestimate them."
"Oh, you'd know that I've overestimated them, if you've seen what I've seen," said Orion. "The World Tree offered more than just power, but knowledge as well—knowledge of the past and the present. And since the future is always in motion, I will forge it myself, in my own image."
"You talk as if you are a god."
He held his arms out on either side of him. "I am stronger than any giant; I have the knowledge of the universe at my disposal—am I, on all accounts, not a god?"
"If you think you are a god, then you are mad."
Lauren sneered at the anger that crossed his face. By that time, she was standing in the center of the Field of Mars, only a few yards away from Orion. Behind her, she heard the shifting of snow and a low exclamation. She knew that voice.
"Frank, Reyna," she called over her shoulder. "Get out of here. I will deal with Orion."
There was no reply, but she hadn't really been expecting one. She just hoped that they would follow her order, and soon. Orion looked like he was itching to start a fight.
"You only prolong their suffering," he said. "When I kill you, Tyr will do unspeakable things to them as payback for your treachery."
"When you kill me?" Lauren scoffed. "Your pride will be your downfall."
He shook his head. "Prideful I may be, but I am not the only one with such a trait. You come here and expect to defeat me single-handedly? I thought you were smarter than that."
It's not like I had a choice, she thought grimly. "I do not need a god to kill you."
A dangerous expression crossed his face. "Let's test that theory, shall we?"
Then he was swiftly closing the distance between them, as fast as he had been back in San Juan, and Lauren had no choice but to steel her gut, raise her sword, and pray that she would still be alive come nightfall.
The full action sequence will come in the next chapter. How did y'all like this one, though? Make sure to leave a review please! :)
P.S. If you've read one of the very first stories that I published here, called "My Salve", then you'll know who that silver-haired girl was with Loki. ;)