Soar Away

"The smell is horrible. Throw it away," whinged Faith, starting to get highly irritated by the lump of meat dumped on the side. She was going to kill Percy for even thinking of bringing along such a grotesque item on their journey.

Annabeth huffed, glancing swiftly at her watch from time to time. Faith exhaled sharply, realising just how long they'd been arguing. It's been fifteen minutes.

"The comfort rooms are far from our compartment. Maybe that's why he's taking so long," blurted the blonde, a hint of panic in her voice. If the worried hunter knew any better, she'd say Annabeth was trying to reassure herself instead.

Gods. The world hated them, it seems. Faith made a mental note to keep that in mind.

A minute passed. Five minutes. Then ten.

As if sensing her increasing alarm, Annabeth began rubbing her forearm roughly and muttered in an anxious whisper, "I should not have let him go alone. Gods, I'm so stupid."

Faith stood, ignoring the growing ache in her throat. "You're not stupid if you're coming with me to go find Jackson again and kick his sorry ass."

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

"Lucius? You in there?"

Percy whipped his head to the door, stricken with both delight and horror. It was a light, scrawny tone that he had once heard—definitely male. A strangled roar echoed from the monster, making him jump lightly and be given the chance to draw out his sword once more.

The creature's powerful wings swished around, baring its glinting teeth at Percy. No, no—the monster was not afraid of him, but rather whoever stood behind that door—

Without thinking, he pivoted pointedly to his right. The son of Poseidon did not know if whoever stood behind that door was a mortal or a half-blood who wished to harm him.

Percy faltered, his breath catching in his throat. "Um, Lucius is not here. Sorry," he tried to say in his most casual voice. Who was Lucius, anyway?

A few moments of lulled calm flowed through the air, drowning his thoughts. Even the demon-like creature had gone silent, its malevolent stare inhuman and cruel. Percy was half-tempted to press his ear on the door to hear if the person had gone, but was hurriedly stopped by a drawling tone.

"You're a liar," mused the voice. "I'll take a guess and say you're Jackson, but who knows. I'm going to figure it out in a second, anyway."

There was a snap, then a few muffled words before Percy had enough time to register his shock. The rusted door went down, swinging open and banging against the wall loudly. Bits and pieces flew, knocking him to the marbled floors with curses and groans escaping his throat.

"Oh, gods—" gasped Percy, fumbling for his sword. Cursing, he assumed it was lost within all the chunk of splintered wood and heavy dust. Any moment—any moment now, Riptide was going to appear back in his pocket and—

The tall lanky figure glowered at him. "Well, I certainly didn't plan to kill you so early. But now you're here, I think it would save more time. Don't you agree?"

"No. No, I do not," choked the raven, swiftly hoisting himself up with great tremendous effort. Percy eyed the chocolate brown hair, much like Piper's, and that spindly face—

It was all he could do not to double over. "Lloyd?" said Percy, too startled to even remember his hatred for his half-brother. "What—what are you doing here?"

Changed. Over just a month, so many has changed. The hideous attire Lloyd wore, the way he seemed to move with lots more grace than before, the incomprehensible look he put on—

Lloyd, being a few inches shorter, raised his gaze to meet his. Only a meter separated them apart.

Percy instinctively reached for the small pocket in his jeans, hoping to feel a slender bump as a sign that his weapon has already been summoned. He clenched his jaw when he felt nothing.

"I'm wondering," began Lloyd, clearly enjoying the sight, "how I'm going to kill you. Beheading, hanging, or maybe choking."

"The last one's kinky," said Percy quickly. Time; he needed time—and he was going to do anything to get it. "What made you join the Dark side? I thought you were enjoying all the attention you got at camp while I was gone."

A sinister chuckle; dark and sullen. "Fuck you."

"Tch, you didn't answer my question. I suppose your dear old lord of the skies promised you fame, power, and all that?"

The former son of Poseidon froze. Percy swallowed, watching as Lloyd's wiry hands wrapped around the steel hilt of a sterling broadsword. The raven now wished nothing more but to have the suit Artemis had given him—he dearly missed the silvered daggers hanging on his hips.

Lloyd's eyes gleamed under his hood, shadowing that somber smile he wore. "Less talking, more fighting."

Percy felt that familiar surge of panic crawl up his spine when Riptide was yet nowhere to be found. Lloyd's glinting blade made a whistling noise as it cut through the air sharply, raised before him.

Panic-driven, Percy veered to his left clumsily even though he knew very well it would do nothing to block it. Shouts echoed as footsteps became louder and louder—Faith and Annabeth—

An ear-splitting inhuman cry resonated, a flash of glinting black and golds knocking Percy over. His eyes half-lidded, he briskly fumbled in his pocket until he grasped Riptide with a firm hold. Someone shouted his name, an order—

Percy forced himself up with a hiss. The beast's svelte and spicate tail curved upwards, its honed tips hovering just a few inches from his face. A look of horror and incredulity spread over Lloyd's face—an oath of slow deaths at the tip of his tongue.

"No, wait—"

Annabeth and Faith had come, and Percy was not sure if he should be glad or absolutely terrified for their lives.

He could sense the waves of astonishment rolling off of the daughter of Athena as she came across Lloyd Draco. None of them had spare time to say anything else before the former son of Poseidon swung his sword wildly, shoving the girls away.

Percy grimaced at the sound of banging furniture and snapping bone, trying to get past the damning beast without getting impaled by that tail—

"I didn't kill you for a reason," breathed Percy, bringing himself to meet those malicious-filled eyes and wishing he could just so easily run past. "And now, you're going to help me whether you like it or not."

An answering purr was what he'd gotten—and Percy was going to take it a yes.

He bolted, traipsing through the clutter as fast as he could. Annabeth ducked with a yell as a jewelled dagger dove past, missing her throat by a hairsbreadth. Percy could hear the blaring alarms, and the screaming mortals who'd seen them—

"What the hell do you want," snarled Faith, her hair whipping with a snap as she attempted to jab Lloyd with her lacklustre dagger; her graces were no more but a blur. Percy made a grab for Annabeth, who had fallen, and his bag that she'd been carrying along.

Lloyd maneuvered sharply, knocking Faith away with no much effort to render her unconscious. He ran, giving them one last sneer before sprinting away and shoving those who were unlucky enough to be on his path.

Percy did not hesitate to go after him, hearing the clink of china breaking as he kept swatting it away. Annabeth yelled at him, something incoherent because of all the noise, and—

The train had stopped.

Percy did not stop to take a breath before pushing past the gathering mortals, his eyes firmly placated on the brown locks that belonged to Lloyd. He gave a shout of protest when he slammed against flesh and bone, level-to-level with the winged beast.

"A wyvern," choked out Annabeth, recognizing the powerful wings and the spikes made of flesh encircling the monster. "Lloyd rode a wyvern."

Thumping footsteps clanged against steel and iron above, with harsh breaths and clattering silver—

"Gods, he's above the train," rasped Faith, her face torn. Percy couldn't breathe, but he knew that he should go after Lloyd—

Without thinking how insane he was, Percy gripped the wyvern's scaly body as he hoisted himself up—it's wings beat and brushed behind his legs uncomfortably, and he felt like he could fall down at any moment—

Annabeth knew what he was doing the moment he got himself on the beast. "Percy fucking Jackson, you will not—"

Hard, ferrous metal fell apart with dashing alarm, bits and scraps of scratched walls and diminished chattel splitting a gaping hole by the side of the train. The wyvern's wings dangled by his side, those blades of skin stroking his ankles like a lover's caress.

"Red code! Red code!" blared a shrill voice from a speaker as passengers did not dare get too close to them. Their faces were a blur of awe, disbelief, and panic. "Please refrain from getting yourselves into more trouble—the police are on their way—"

"Other side," said Percy unsteadily, his fingertips barely holding on to the rough skin of the beast. "Go to the other side—Lloyd's there, I think. I can't let that bastard get away without paying for what he's done."

Sharing a brief glance with Annabeth, he knew that she understood. The pain, the betrayal, the grief—Percy was not going to take it all lightly without payback.

"Chase, come on," breathed Faith, making a grab for his bag and steering the daughter of Athena away. Percy can tell she was resolutely horrified by the demon he rode. "You better come back alive, Jackson."

They took off with a sprint, ignoring the growing masses of passersby. The weak sliding doors that separated the compartments burst, revealing bulky guards who pushed the crowds away.

The wyvern let out a purr, growling at those who got too close. Percy could hear a repetitive thumping as he leaned forwards, the one word he'd spoken no more but a whisper to the dark: "Fly."

Oh, that beastly monster did. He had to hold on to refrain from slipping back as its mighty wings fluttered and it leaped forwards, the powerful bodice lifting him up in the air—

Gods, help him.

A flick of cold wind slapped his face, a sickly feeling burning in his stomach. Relax. You've ridden Blackjack before. Pretend this wyvern is him.

The problem was that Percy couldn't think straight. He held on to the beast's sides as harshly as he could, lurching forwards. "There," he bellowed, ignoring the familiar blares of red and blue police cars. From a distance, Lloyd Draco did not look back to know what was happening behind him as he leapt from compartment to compartment, then—

The roguish steels above the trains became more detailed as the wyvern snarled at its former master, its wings flapping wildly and emitting strong waves of air. Percy incautiously hollered away, glad to be back on his own two feet.

Lloyd stopped, a sneer forming on those features of his—

"Less talking, more killing," mimicked Percy, his sea-greens narrowed in disgust. He then realised the damning traitor's reluctant stare was focused on the wyvern, a look of disbelief washing over his face.

"Lucius," growled Lloyd; the name of the beast. "Our Lord won't be pleased by this. You've been bred to kill without a heart."

Bred.

The wyverns have been bred; made—

"I don't think Lucius enjoys your boring presence," retorted Percy, an uplift tugging at the corners of his mouth. The sound of yelling and protests rang in his ears—and there was a scraping of metal just meters on their right. Annabeth and Faith. They're trying to get up.

He caught pink skin scarred with rash red markings on Lloyd's forearm. The aforementioned brunette smirked at Percy after catching on to what the raven was staring at.

"The Mark," whispered Lloyd. There was a sort of satisfaction in his words. "Only those loyal to our Lord get these. I think one of your precious friends from camp would get their own, too."

Percy did not hesitate further to raise his sword, only to be blocked by Lloyd's own sterling blade. There was the scraping echo from their weapons—then a whip of brown locks appeared by their side—

The wyvern reacted, nearly knocking Faith off the narrow train. Percy ducked hastily, avoiding the rampaging blade which came for his throat. He twisted, making his right side vulnerable and open—

Lloyd did not fight back. He simply cowered back before making a lousy attempt at hollering away. Annabeth was there in time to block him, her face tight and determined before the damning traitor smiled.

Percy tried hurrying over, but he was too far away. Lloyd had disarmed Annabeth, her slinging dagger tossed away from her grip. Faith screamed, and Percy was too confused as to what was happening—

The etching darkness loomed over the trees, reaching where they stood. Percy caught a smile of triumph from Lloyd's face as he ran through darkness and wisped into no more but shadows with Annabeth in his grasp.

Lloyd was gone.

And so was Annabeth.

"Shadow travel." No—no, no. Lloyd couldn't have escaped their grasp, when he was so close. Percy remembered what Nico had said to him before, just when they were in the midst of war; everyone could shadow travel if they wanted to. All it takes is patience and careful training.

"They're . . . gone," breathed Faith, her lips parting for the hitched gasps of breath to escape. "Oh, gods, the mortals are coming—"

Too frustrated to speak, Percy cocked his head to the snarling wyvern. He was too exhausted to argue. Police men began gathering below them, their shouts and commands bellowing in their ears.

Faith hissed, the wyvern's blades of skin gashing her knee as she tried to hoist herself up. Percy swallowed as he stroked the savory hide, calming the beast.

"Okay," said Percy thickly, his mind fogged, "careful now. Hold—hold on to the neck as tight as you can, but not too harsh. The skin's sharp."

Faith's lips thinned to a wince as she got up, shifting on the beast uncomfortably. Percy followed, swearing as he held firmly and hoping he wouldn't slide downwards. He shakily took his bag from the hunter and slung it over his own shoulder.

"Kids! They're kids, Karen!" shouted a policewoman by their backs, pointing madly at them as Percy leaned a bit closer to the jittery hunter.

"Gods," rasped Faith, her hands trembling as she buried her nails deeper against the wyvern's veined neck. "He has her. He—that guy, he was the one everyone in camp had forgotten—"

Percy snaked his arms by her waist, reaching to rub her hands gently. It was the only way of comfort he could think of as he, too, was shaking. "Later. We'll talk later, all right? Now, we need to go."

When that last derisive word fell from his lips, the wyvern seemed to have heard it as a signal. It's wings spread, wide and deadly, as it leapt and soared through the skies. Faith yelped as they both slanted back, their breaths strident and raucous.

"Not too high, not too high," murmured the hunter in a state of panic as they rose higher and higher despite her complaints.

Percy didn't dare look down at their rapidly increasing height. Instead, he muttered quietly as the wyvern's wings beat brutally in their ears, "Close your eyes. It'll help."

"Some nice advice you have. I still feel terrified. Where—where are we going to go?"

Percy stayed silent; he didn't plan for this to happen. They were supposed to take a five-day trip by train to the DOA recording studios, where the Underworld was, and persuade Lady Aphorei to bring back the campers' taken memories so they wouldn't have to greatly suffer the side effects of memory loss.

Going insane, some of them are, Annabeth had said.

Annabeth was gone. It was just the two of them.

Percy would have laughed bitterly. He remembered despising the daughter of Athena's company when they were preparing for their quest. Now that she was gone, taken, he did not like anything better but Annabeth's presence.

He was not alone. Faith was still here, by his side.

Making up his mind, he whispered drily,"The Underworld."

Percy was sure the beast—Lucius, a crucial name for the monstrous wyvern—entirely understood his command as it lunged forwards and flew.

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

She didn't know what was happening.

The cloudy skies and the familiar scent of pine trees was what Annabeth had seen last before she was harshly pulled into an endless tunnel of darkness.

She was screaming then—she had all the right to be terrified. Lloyd had grabbed her, then the shadows seemed to swallow them up—

"Let go of me," yelled Annabeth, feeling useless without her dagger as she yanked her arm from Lloyd's stilt grasp. Her dagger had been a new one; custom-made after she'd lost her first.

You can do this, whispered a little voice in the back of her head. You can do this.

Blinking rapidly, she took in her horribly-lit surroundings. The room curved into a semi-circle, its walls no more than chunks of rocks and glittering ore. She supposed the ivory ornaments and plants made the room rather pretty, but then her eyes landed on a slender woman—

"Ah, Annabeth Chase. At last we meet," said the goddess atrociously with a dainty smile on her lips. Annabeth's heartbeat sped up, clenching her fists. The rose-black chiton that flowed down 'til it reached the marbled floors, the marks and symbols on the woman's glowing skin—

"You." Annabeth raised her gaze to meet hers. "Aphorei."