(If you have already read this chapter, there is no need to again, I have added something in that isn't crucial to the plot, just forgot to add it!)
Thank you for the reviews, it's good to know people are enjoying this story. Thank you and hello to the new followers also!
Henrie James Locker: Thanks, hope you're enjoying the story!
Guest: Glad to know you are enjoying it!
Savien X: Glad to know you're still here and enjoying the story, hopefully, thank you for the review!
I in no way own the rights to the Percy Jackson franchise or The sword of Truth franchise, I am writing this for fun and in no way intend any harm to either franchise!
Chapter Eighteen
They emerged from the Pass in the early hours of the morning. They were weary, streaked with blood and dirt. Percy glanced over his shoulder, ensuring nothing had followed them the rest of the way through. He was thankful that with the coming light of day, the creatures of the Pass didn't bother them. They observed as they walked by, hounds growling from the shadows, their piercing green eyes, hungry. Percy felt drained, feeling the energy loss the sword had taken from him. His eyes met Annabeth's grey, her eyes heavy as she slumped against him as they walked.
"We cannot stay here so close to the boundary, although they do not venture out often in the day, Hell hounds are getting quite adventurous in the dying stages of the veil." Annabeth yawned.
"We'll keep moving then," Percy began, his attention casting to the trees around them, the sound of howling coming from within. "I can see a wayward pine, it looks worse for wear but it will still house us." Percy placed his hand on the small of Annabeth's back, guiding her forward at a steady pace, away from the copse of trees.
"Welcome to Osmia," Annabeth smiled tiredly.
Percy stared at the change in scenery he was used to, a sprawling meadow extending for miles, the glimpse of a castle spire way off in the distance. He said nothing as they walked, taking in the strange land that had laid out of reach for twenty-three years of his life. Mountains towered over the land, their snow-kissed peaks barely visible behind the clouds. They stretched as far as the eye could see, the largest looming over the rest was akin to ash, the mountain itself would be lost in the night sky. It cast a foreboding shadow down over the town at its base, whilst being its protection from the land of Othrys beyond.
They continued walking for another half an hour, the sun blinding them as they went. Percy covered his brow as he looked to the blue sky, elated to see colour once more, noting the position of the sun to be around seven in the morning. He was thankful they'd finally made it through to Osmia, but it was strange to get used to. The world around him seemed different. The air felt thicker, almost fuller in the sense of another presence clinging to the breeze around them. A presence that had been lacking in Picarion for years now.
Magic.
And yet Percy had felt the very nature of magic, many times. The air seemed different around those that wield it, he could feel it around Chiron, the sword. He could feel it around Annabeth. It still unnerved him he did not know her secret, he did not wish to know in some ways. He knew she would act differently around him once she told him, sensed she didn't want to see his reaction to her explanation. He could feel the conflict raging within her, she was frightened she'd lose him, a friend she has never had the luxury to have.
"Where are we right now?" Percy wondered as they walked, snapping twigs and dried moss beneath their boots, the sound of the forest behind them slowly dwindling.
"It is called the wildlands, nothing lives in these parts but a few small colonies and wild beasts, boar, deer and other animals that would keep the hounds happy this side of the boundary." Annabeth frowned as she looked to the blue sky, her eyes catching on the lone cloud above, the one that followed the Seeker. "But if the Wardens of Peace have made it this far since I've been absent, the game would be little for them." Annabeth sighed.
He didn't want to push her, as realisation crept over him once more, her last few words hanging in his mind. Since I've been absent.
"Do you think these colonies would help us?" Percy wondered, casting his eyes over to her tired form.
"It is hard to say," She yawned, mumbling an apology, "I have visited them in the past, but I tend not to interfere with their affairs often. They prefer them to be internal."
They reached the broken remains that once belonged to a flourishing wayward pine, the needles grey and decaying, a slight damp rotting smell clinging to the air. The wave of tiredness hit him hard as he held back the bowing branches carefully, receiving a tired smile in thanks from his companion. He followed in after her, suppressing a yawn of his own as he threw his pack to the floor. He all but collapsed on the moist soil around the base of the tree, propping the bag just so to make a pillow. He shifted his weight as he pulled the bow over top his head, placing it on the ground beside him on top of his satchel. His eyes cast to Annabeth, flinging her pack beside his, before nestling herself against the base of the tree.
Percy struggled with the buckle holding the sword to him, finally freeing it from himself, placing it at arms reach beside him. His head hit the back of his pack with a thud, too tired to remove his sleeping roll. The air around them felt humid for the time, almost as if a storm was encroaching in around them.
"So much for the bone charms protection in the Pass." She huffed.
"It did its job, it wasn't meant to conceal but to hinder," Percy began, his eyes shut, "Remember before, with Chiron and Grover? I was the only one that they struggled to attack before. The charm makes them act slower, clumsier." Annabeth hummed in thought as she looked to him.
"I still do not understand how you are protected, Hecate gave you no charm." She frowned in suspicion.
"Must be the sword," Percy muttered bleakly, neither of them up for the debate.
She hummed in response, Percy taking a peek through one eye to her. A small smile lit his face at the sight of her already sleeping form. All rational thoughts left his mind as he slipped into a deep slumber, the thought of staying awake to ensure nothing attacked them lost on him. His dreams were strangely vivid, watching Hecate care for Chiron and Grover, feeding them a concoction and water. In the next, he saw a man he assumed to be Luke, unconscious in a strange garden filled with botanical wonders scattered around him. He could hear things, snuffling and howling, as thunder clapped overhead.
He looked around in his dream, in the strange garden, his eyes glancing over the leader of Othrys. Even in his dream, it seemed like he could reach out and end it all now.
"Handsome, isn't he?" A rumbling voice echoed around him, Percy's eyes widening. "Unfortunately for you, Perseus Jackson, you cannot end it now, can you?"
"Who are you?" Percy demanded, his eyes alert, scanning the room.
"Kronos," The ground rumbled, "Why are you here in my sons, my, garden? Not many in the world can do as you have."
"This is a dream, that's all." Percy scowled, reaching for the hilt of the sword. He clawed at nothing as the ground shook, the sound of laughter ringing around him.
"If that were so Perseus, you would be armed." Kronos mocked.
"How do you know who I am?" Percy frowned.
"Word of the chosen Seeker stretches even to the Underworld, boy. There is much you do not know." Kronos spat, leaves from a tree overhead fluttering to the ground. "But there is much I know about you. I have watched you long before you claimed the cursed blade. There are things about yourself I will let you learn along the way." Percy could hear the smile in Kronos' voice, almost taunting him. "Those headaches you receive, I will enjoy watching you suffer with them."
"I have had headaches since I was a babe, I've grown to ignore them, much like I shall learn to ignore this one." Percy quipped.
"You will find out soon how wrong you are," Kronos roared with laughter. "There are none left in the world that can deal with them, the only one that remains is my son. Join his cause and we will help you. You can end this now, while you are here, and have the chance."
"No thank you," Percy stepped cautiously in a circle, his eyes scanning the marble walls around him. "I'll end him myself, Anaklusmos in hand."
"Ah... What a shame," Kronos sighed, the pool of white sand around him vibrating with the sound. "I fear you will not live long to act on those words."
D
Percy's eyes shot open, sitting up as he drew the sword, the characteristic ring resounding around them. Annabeth jolted awake, shocked by the sudden sound as Percy thrust the sword through the mouth of a hound, the blade protruding through, a gargled whimper escaping the beast's throat. Percy kicked off the hound, watching as it slid freely from the blade, slumping on the mossy ground beneath them, blood beginning to seep into the mud.
Rain thundered down around them as lightning crackled across the dark sky. He turned to Annabeth, his eyes burning with rage. He was unsure as to how long they were asleep for, but the thought left his mind when he heard howls echo across the plains around them. The two scrambled to retrieve their gear, Percy slinging the bow over his head once more. He peered through the branches around them, tying the belt around his waist once more, spotting hounds around the tree.
"What happened?" Annabeth blinked, startled by the situation.
"I'll explain after," Percy grumbled, shouldering his pack, "We need to leave now, and it won't be without a fight." He watched as Annabeth tucked her hair into her hood, shielding her head from the elements outside of the tree.
The two sprung from the tree, weapons in hand as Percy swung to the hound nearest to the tree, one that had edged closer as to strike them as they exited. He heard a whimper from his left, the sound of daggers ripping at flesh as he cleaved through the awaiting hound, blood arcing with the swing of the blade. Rain and thunder continued to pound around them as they cut through hounds, trying to create a path so they could escape.
"This is getting out of hand!" Annabeth yelled, a grunt leaving her lips as she pulled free the blade. "There are too many of them!"
Percy refused to let his guard down, his mind reeling as he thought of an exit strategy. His eyes scanned their surroundings, tall grass sprawled as far as he could see, the sight of smoke from a campfire far out in the distance, a little way up a small hill behind a thick brush of bushes.
"Over there!" Percy yelled, pointing with his free hand. Annabeth glanced over her shoulder quickly, Percy reacting instantly to the hound pouncing her at that moment. In an upward swing, the hound split in two, Annabeth looking grateful up to him. They pushed their way through the hounds, catching themselves on the slimy mud underneath them, often. His heart thundered in his chest as they ran for a couple of minutes, his eyes darting over his shoulder to the twenty or so hounds still chasing them, howling and snarling as they went.
E
"Percy!" Annabeth screamed, watching as he lost traction on the slick surface up the small crest. He turned sharply, facing the oncoming horde of hounds, sliding further and further back into their clutches once more.
The sword was in hand, slicing at the leaping hound heading towards his face, his heart continuing to thunder in his chest. He howled in pain as a hound got hold of his calf, piercing the beast's skull with the tip of Anaklusmos. He stood shakily, feeling blood run down his leg into the base of his boot. Percy held the blade in front of him defensively as a hound leapt towards him, the sound of whistling in the air coming from above him. He watched as a few dozen arrows landed around him, peppering and kicking up the muddy ground as they landed with a thud, watching as others hit their mark on hell hounds.
He turned to look up the hill, spotting Annabeth staring down to him, fear in her eyes. Beside her stood several dozens of women in, surprisingly, silver hunting garb. They held their bows in hand, watching as another volley of arrows scattered around him, whimpering cries emitting from the injured or dying hounds. He sighed in relief as he watched the hounds flee, a hiss leaving his lips as the pain from his wound finally hit him.
A small number of them slid gracefully down the muddy hillside, stopping beside him. The women looked to him, some with disinterest, others giving him a brief look of indignation and disgust. Before he could thank them, they all began moving again, the one in the lead shouting commands in a language he'd heard before yet still did not understand. They began chasing the hounds that had scampered off in their injured state, back to their woods, watching as they made it passed the wayward pine.
"Percy," Annabeth breathed, pulling him to her without thinking. He hissed in pain as she jostled his leg, feeling his pulse pump blood from the fresh wound. "I am sorry, Percy." She shied away from him, glancing to the women stood atop the hill, before helping him to the top of the ridge. They stopped before the woman who stood beside Annabeth before, her eyes alight with distaste.
"We tend not to save men," She spat, "The only good thing about thee is that thou pay double for our help." Percy blinked as he looked to her outstretched hand, noting the universal language of rubbing one's fingers together across their thumb. He reached for his pouch, hiding the roll of his eyes, pausing as Annabeth grabbed his wrist.
"Thank you, for saving mine and my friend's life. However, this is all we have," Annabeth spoke fluently in return. His eyes scanned the others around him, noting their attire up close. They scowled at him, as he eyed them, his eyes catching on their bows.
"Who art thou? Why art thou so far from a town?" She scowled. She watched as Annabeth drew back her hood, the other women around the gasping as they bowed their head slightly. The leader's eyes widened in shock as she looked between the two, her eyes on Percy's firmly grasped hand against the golden hilt of Anaklusmos.
"Mother Confessor, please forgive me." She muttered, her hand outstretched with the coin Annabeth had handed her. Annabeth smiled lightly as she shook her head, her hand outstretched as she declined the offer.
"That is not necessary, do not worry. We are both grateful for your help, I fear the outcome had you not." Percy stood off to one side, somewhat disinterested in the conversation they were having, one he could not understand. "What is your name, Lady Hunter?"
"Zoe Nightshade, Lieutenant of the Hunters." Zoe bowed, her eyes casting to him. "This man, is he thine mate?" Annabeth's face turned crimson as she glanced to him, the two's eyes meeting. She shied away from his gaze as she shook her head, clearing her throat.
"No, he is the Seeker. We are currently on a quest to stop Lucas Castellan, ruler of Othrys." Zoe sneered at the mention of the ruler's name, the weather around them forgotten.
Percy shifted his weight to his other leg slightly, the bite of the cold around them and his damp clothes, making him forget his wound. He winced in pain slightly, casting his eyes down to the torn trouser legs, no longer interested in the two's talking. Soon after, the small group of hunters returned, seemingly laughing at him as they joined the others, joining the others at the rear.
"They are Hunters, do not upset them," Annabeth warned, Percy to focused on his injury to argue. "The leader is Zoe Nightshade, if she permits you to speak to her, I will translate for you."
"Come, my lady. Seeker," Zoe spat, unaware of his inability to understand, "We normally do not allow men within our camp, but as he is important also, he can enter." Annabeth turned to him, silent words spoken between the two as they began following the Hunters to their camp, Percy trying to walk as normal as he could. "Is there anything my Hunters and I could do for you, Mother Confessor?" Annabeth glanced to him, his eyes meeting hers.
"She would like to know if she can help us, further anyhow." Annabeth translated.
"I'm not sure if they can help in any other way, saving my life seems to be the extent they would go," Percy winced. "You know more about them than I do, can they help?"
"I suppose they could call a gathering of their ancestors. They are good spirits, graced in the halls of Elysium, being part of the Underworld, they might be able to tell us something about the final Box. But the fact that it is you that would be the one to ask," Annabeth sighed, "I doubt they would do so, let alone listen."
"It's worth a shot to ask them." Percy breathed in pain. He paid them no mind once more as they stepped through the clearing, his eyes widening in wonder. It was like a small bustling town inside, clay mud huts with thatched rooves were nestled in between trees, two open-walled shelters stood in the centre, a roaring cooking fire in the middle of the two, surrounded by a few other women; much younger than those accompanying him. The girls were sat at tables and benches, talking and reading books. It seemed the younger girls were being taught the language of the Forage. His attention was caught by the wild game and fruits on the tables under one of the shelters, inviting pleasant aroma of spices and sweet berries wafting his way.
"Why is it thou wear woodland garb, where is thy white dress?" Zoe wondered, "We would have recognised thou sooner."
"The important quest we are facing is dangerous, I am hunted and did not wish to be recognised so easily. It is my duty to protect the Seeker in this quest." Annabeth explained, unaware of the little interest Percy had in the matter.
The floor they walked on changed from the mudded forest floor, roots and rocks jutting out dangerously, to tree limbs. They'd been split in half and layered just so, to make the perfect flooring. They were covered in tree sap mixed with something else, creating a natural protective layer as to not get hurt or slip on them. He spied other women towards the back of the clearing, practising archery and close-quarters hand-to-hand, small silver daggers in hand. The abundance of silver shocked him, only ever seeing it used for jewellery. It seemed strong and sturdy, however, much like steel or iron was. They came to a stop beside one of the tables, the leader Zoe sliding the two, rather begrudgingly to him, a plate of meat and fruit.
Percy eyed the food hungrily, glancing to Annabeth beside him. She seemed disinterested in him at that moment in time, her eyes alight with wonder as she talked with Zoe and the other Hunters. No woman, beside Annabeth, wished to sit beside him, Percy taking the opportunity to look at his leg. He hissed with pain as the wood pressed into his wound, ripping the already ruined trouser leg. He stopped suddenly, noting the silence around him as everyone glared at him. He grimaced slightly as he caught Annabeth's eye, catching the glimpse of amusement in them, a small smile hidden behind her dainty hand.
"Sorry," Percy muttered, "Is there anywhere I can tend to this, in private?" Percy wondered, feeling more bashful all of a sudden. He waited as he listened to Annabeth's translation, spotting the not so hidden roll of their eyes. He listened to the jabbering of the odd language as he turned to Annabeth expectantly.
"Yes," Annabeth smiled, watching as he stood with a small wince, retrieving his pack from beside him. "Zoe said that you can use her quarters, bearing in mind she knows every inch of that room. If she sees something out of place, she will know who to hurt further." Percy resisted tutting, trying and failing to stop the roll of his eyes as he looked at her, listening to her nattering once more.
"She says she'd send the healer if the hound had poisoned you, but she thinks you can handle it on your own, you killed it before it could."
"Thank you, that's comforting to know." Percy grumbled, "Which way is it?" Percy wondered, looking around at the collection of women around him. Under normal circumstances, he'd be over the moon being surrounded by this many beautiful women, but considering they all hate him for being a male, he thought it best to leave well alone, fearful of what they'd do to him.
"She says Phoebe will take you," Annabeth smiled, watching as the woman in question rose rather irritably. He followed after her, trying to walk as normal as he could, his fist curling around the hilt of the sword, finding comfort in the distracting pain of Truth digging into his palm.
Phoebe opened the door wide, giving him a wide birth as if he would give her a disease if he so breathed on her. He nodded in thanks as he closed the door behind him. He was surprised that the room was lit with a greyish light, that seemed to perpetually burn, creating a permanent light source that did not dwindle when it was needed. He placed the straps of his pack and satchel over the back of a wooden chair, pulling the needed items from his pack. He pulled out the chair by the table carefully, not wanting to incur the wrath of the leader if he so much scratched the coating on the wood.
He removed the belt holding the sword to his hip, slinging the bow overhead, propping the two on the side of the table. He removed his boots, rather painfully with the injured leg. Fresh blood began to seep freely from the wound, the pain from ripping the matted and clinging bloodied fabric from part of the gash, excruciating. He stripped himself down to his undergarments, opening the pot of ambrosia cream. He examined the wound, blotting the wound with a clean rag he'd wetted.
He smothered the wound in the cream, feeling the numbing tingling sensation spread through the muscle. He could already feel the ambrosia working wonders on his wound, feeling the healing process as it slowly began knitting the skin back together. He waited a moment, his eyes scanning the room, spotting maps of the towns, cities and land of Osmia. For a group that live in isolation away from the other towns and cities, they live in some comfort, Percy noted.
He came out of his thoughts as he began bandaging his leg, the whites slowly darkening with red blotches. He finished with a knot, securing it to his leg as he stood, testing the weight. He could feel some pain, but it was much more bearable than it was before. Percy pulled free his spare black trousers, pulling them up his legs, mindful of the wrapped wound. He slipped his boots on, quickly with the first, more careful with the second. He stood, sliding the chair back to its original position, stuffing everything he'd used, along with his old trousers, into his pack.
He nosily observed the room, his eyes skimming over the various maps of the land, noting how far wide it stretched compared to those depicting Picarion. His eyes caught on the skull of a stag, widening in surprise as it flickered gold in the strange lamplight. He resisted the urge to pick it up, inspect it further, turning to the door once more, preparing to leave. He returned to the chair he was sat on, removing and shouldering his pack and satchel, pushing the chair under the table once more. Pulling the sword and bow from the edge of the table, he kept hold of them for the time being, seeing no need in sitting uncomfortably with them to him. He felt oddly safe within the confines of the Hunters camp, despite everyone here likely wanted him dead.
Phoebe closed the door held the door open as he exited, peering into the room herself, checking to see if he'd left it in a presentable state. He waited for a moment, waiting for her to take the lead once more as they made their way back to Annabeth and the others, sensing the cold shoulder from the Hunter. He returned with a smile, a gracious nod to Zoe as she and Annabeth looked to him.
"Thank you, for allowing me to use your quarters, and for you and your Hunters saving my life." Percy smiled. He waited a moment before he sat beside Annabeth, listening to her translation. He received a grunt in response, Zoe seemingly unwanting to waste breath on him. He placed his things beside him once more, leaning the sword followed by the bow on the side of the table. He watched the Hunters demeanour change, hushed whispering breaking out from them.
"Where did thou get thy bow?" Zoe questioned, her tone hard. Percy frowned as he met Annabeth's eyes, listening to her translation.
"I took it from a man who was hellbent on killing my friend here," Percy began, watching as Annabeth translated for him, "A member of a Quad. Judging by the similarities to the others, it belongs to the Hunters?" He waited a moment for Annabeth to finish translating, watching her nod in response.
"It does," Zoe said simply.
"Would you like it back in the hands of the Hunters?" Percy wondered, plucking it from beside him. He paused as she held up her hand, shaking her head, her eyes sharp.
"No. It has been tainted and used by men."
Percy cleared his throat at the translation, feeling his face heat slightly. They really don't like men, do they? Percy thought.
"Tell me, Seeker. What is it thou seek?" Zoe wondered, her tone surprisingly kinder.
"Lucas Castellan threatens all the lands. He wishes to enslave some and kill others, magical creatures included. It is my intention to stop him, mine and Annabeth's. There were two others with us, two good friends of mine, a wizard and a... Mercenary," Percy chose, deciding to leave out the part of him being from Picarion, "We need help in finding the last Box of Primordial before Luke does." He waited as Annabeth translated, noting the lack of her name from the translation, remembering the word he'd heard Hecate use before. Her title.
"And what is it thou wish of us? We will not help thee on this quest." Zoe wondered, a hint of distaste in her tone.
"I wish for you to call a gathering of your Ancestors, so I might stop terrible things from happening to us all." The Hunters gathered around them laughed, Percy feeling his face heat slightly, being the centre of the joke.
"And why should we, hmm? Thou have done nothing for us, we are the ones who saved thine life." Zoe mocked.
"Because if you don't, Luke will likely enslave all of you, turn you into something you won't like, a concubine perhaps," Percy stated evenly. Annabeth paused on the word he thought would gain their attention, keeping his eyes level with her heated gaze as his words washed over her.
"We Hunters serve no one, least of all a man." Zoe spat, feeling many eyes on the back of his head, the sound of nothing but the crackling fire behind him as all the women stood in shock.
"It's simple then. Help me, help you. We both share a common ground, I do not wish to be a slave to such a man, in fact, I'd likely be dead for taking up this sword." Percy explained, pointing to the weapon in question to his right, "So let me pay you for helping me out there, by stopping the one man that you would have no defence against, were he to get the final box."
Silence hung in the air after Annabeth translated his words, Percy waiting patiently as his fingers danced over the letters on the sword's grip. He turned his attention to Annabeth beside him, her face portraying no emotion. Zoe spoke calmly, before she stood, leaving the table. The other Hunters followed suit, Percy turning to Annabeth, his eyebrow raised.
"She said that she would think it over. We can stay in the house reserved for new initiates of the Hunt while she concludes with the others." Percy sighed with a frown, watching the retreating Hunters.
"Do you think they will help us?" Percy wondered.
"With what you told them, you could tell by their expressions they were not impressed with your choice of words. I do not know, they might just send us on our way in a direction and hope we succeed. Only time will tell." Annabeth sighed, "Come on, let us get settled in."