A/N (I recommend reading this): I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES or AND THE KANE CHRONICLES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Riordan. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

This is a The Tales of version of the Percy Jackson and Kane Chronicles crossover and takes place after 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus part of the series. So if you haven't read them yet read before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned:

The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Early Adventures
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Sea of Monsters
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Titan's Curse
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Magical Labyrinth
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Stolen Chariot
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Sword of Hades
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Bronze Dragon
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Last Olympian
The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: the Staff of Hermes
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Son of Neptune
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Mark of Athena
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The House of Hades
The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Blood of Olympus
The Tales of Magicians and Demigods: The Son of Sobek
The Tales of Magicians and Demigods: The Staff of Serapis
The Tales of Magicians and Demigods: The Crown of Ptolemy

Also if you haven't got the chance feel free to read:

The Tales of Classical Mythology

A crossover with The Tales of series with my dictionary on Greek/Roman Mythology where The Tales of Percy Jackson tells his version of stories behind famous names in Greek and Roman Mythology.

And if you are a fan of Stephen King:

The Tales of the Heroes of the Stand

Which is basically a crossover of The Tales of series with one of Stephen King's best novels The Stand.

Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed as long as you inform me about it.

So Not a Good Time for My Kids to go Missing

The only biohazards we encountered were vegan cupcakes.

After navigating several torchlit corridors, (thank the gods as I was not ready to draw out Kopis for light while trying to run while latched to Meg) we burst into a crowded modern bakery that according to the menu board, had the dubious name THE LEVEL TEN VEGAN. Our garbage/volcanic gas stench quickly dispersed the customers, driving most toward the exit, and causing many non-dairy gluten free baked goods to be trampled. We ducked behind the counter, charged through the kitchen doors, and found ourselves in a subterranean amphitheater that looked centuries old.

Tiers of stone seats ringed a sandy pit about the right size for a gladiator fight. There was a pile of bones and skulls toward the main box where a banner held with a three-point-spear—a trident, Poseidon's symbol of power. Hanging from the ceiling were dozens of thick iron chains, some of which seem to have what looks like a giant loin cloth latched onto.

Note to self: when I become a god again, ask Poseidon about this place. Since his symbol is on the banner, he might know what ghastly spectacles might have been staged here.

We limped out the opposite side, back into the Labyrinth's twisting corridors.

By this point, we had perfected the art of three-legged running. Whenever I started to tire, I imagine Python behind us, spewing poisonous gas.

At last, we turned a corner, and Meg shouted, "There!"

In the middle of the corridor sat a third golden apple.

This time I was too exhausted to care about traps. We loped forward until Meg scooped up the fruit.

In front of us, the ceiling lowered, forming a ramp. Fresh air filled my lungs. We climbed to the top, but instead of feeling elated, my insides turned as cold as the garbage juice on my skin. We were back in the woods.

"Not here," I muttered. "Gods, no."

Meg happed us in a full circle. "Maybe it's a different forest."

"No, it isn't, look there," I pointed to a large pile of rocks which was where we just exit the Labyrinth.

"You mean that pile of boulders that look like deer poop?" Meg said.

"No, that's Zeus's Fist," I said—although I never understand why people think it is called that when it does look like a pile of deer poop from all but one angle. "It's located in the western woods of camp half-blood. We need to get out of here before—"

I stopped as it was too late. I could feel the resentful stare of the trees, the horizon stretching out in all directions. Voices began to whisper, waking to our presence.

"Hurry," I said.

As if on cue, the bands around our legs sprang loose. We ran.

Even with her arms full of apples, Meg was faster. She veered between trees, zigzagging left and right as if following a course only she could see. My legs ached and my chest burned, but I did not dare fall behind.

Up ahead, flickering points of light resolve into torches. At last, we burst out of the woods, right into a crowd of campers and satyrs.

Chiron galloped over. "Thank the gods!"

"You're welcome!" I gasped, mostly out of habit. "Chiron… we have to talk."

In the torchlight, the centaur's face seemed carved from shadow. "Yes, we do, my friend. But first, I fear one more team is still missing… your children, Kayla and Austin."

…

Chiron forced us to take showers and change clothes. Otherwise, I would have plunged straight back into the woods.

By the time I was done, Kayla and Austin still had not returned.

Chiron had sent search parties of dryads into the forest, on the assumption that they would be safe in their home territory, but he adamantly refused to let demigods join the hunt.

"We cannot risk anyone else," he said. "Kayla, Austin, and—and the other missing… They would not want that."

Five campers had disappeared. I harbored no illusions that Kayla and Austin would return on their own. The Beast words still echoed in my ears: I have upped the stakes. Apollo will have no choice.

Somehow, he had targeted my children. He was inviting me to look for them, and to find the gates of this hidden Oracle. There was still so much I did not understand—how the ancient grove of Dodona had relocated here, what sort of "gates" it might have, why the Beast thought I could open them, and how he had snared Austin and Kayla. But there was one thing I did know: The Beast was right. I had no choice. I had to find my children… my friends.

I would have ignored Chiron's warning and run into the forest except for Will's panicked shout, "Apollo, I need you!"

At the far end of the field, he had set up an impromptu hospital where a dozen campers lay injured on stretchers. He was frantically tending to Paolo Montes while Nico held down the screaming patient.

I ran to Will's side and I winced at what I saw.

Paolo had managed to get one of his legs sawed off.

"I got it reattached," Will told me, his voice shaky with exhaustion. His scrubs were speckled with blood. "Alabaster is conducting a healing potion he learned while he was on the run, but I need somebody to keep Paolo stable until it's done."

I pointed to the woods. "But—"

"I know!" Will snapped. "Don't you think I want to be out there searching too? We are shorthanded for healers. There is some salve and nectar in that pack, it can help until Alabaster gets done with his potion. Go!"

I was stunned by his tone. I realized he was just as concerned about Kayla and Austin as I was. The only difference: Will knew his duty. He had to heal the injured first. And he needed help."

"Y-yes," I said. "Yes, of course."

I grabbed the supply pack and took charge of Paolo, who had conveniently passed out from the pain.

Will changed his surgical gloves and glared at the woods. "We will find them. We have to."

Nico di Angelo gave him a canteen. "Drink. Unless you want me to shadow travel all the way to Camp Jupiter to get Michael Yew to cover for you, you're needed right here."

I could tell the son of Hades was angry too. Around his feet, the grass and steamed and withered.

Will sighed. "Fine. You are right. I am just not happy about it. I have to set Valentina's broken arm now and there are other injuries."

"Can Nico shadow travel there?" I asked.

"I haven't tried since communications was cut but doing it at such distances causes me to pass out and Will doesn't want me to risk it. Normally it be easier just to dream travel to find Bianca but even that been cut off," Nico admitted although coldly on the last part. "That's why I use it as an ultimatum if needed."

"We got Alabaster and he been useful," Will said. "When he was on the run, he apparently picked up some potions for remedies and healing magic that was thought only Medea knew."

There it was again. For the second time today, I heard something about Alabaster on the run. Could he be Nero's source.

"I have to set Valentina's broken arm now. You want to assist?" Will asked.

"Sounds gruesome," Nico said. "Let's go."

I tended to Paolo Montes until Alabaster arrived with a potion. Alabaster practically ignored me unless he had to talk to me as he helped Paolo. Then once he was out of danger, we got two satyrs to carry his stretcher to Hebe Cabin.

Compare to most, Alabaster and Ethan looked least harmed. They won the race much to the Victor Twins annoyances but even I know when it comes to demigods competing in a mystical place, it is hard to compete against a demigod with clear sight like Ethan.

I did what I could to nurse the others, so I could not find out what was Alabaster's deal. But at least he was willing to work with us. Chiara had a mild concussion. Billie Ng had come down with a case of Irish step dancing. Holly and Laurel needed pieces of shrapnel removed from their backs, thanks to a close encounter with an exploding chain-saw Frisbee. Since they lost to Ethan and Alabaster, they were extra demanding to know who had the most pieces of shrapnel extracted. I told them to be quiet or I would never allow them to wear laurel wreaths again. (As the guy who held the patent on laurel wreaths, that was my prerogative.)

I found my mortal healing skills were passable in demigod standards. Will Solace far outshone me, but that did not bother me. I was used to being second in healing. My son Asclepius had become the god of medicine by the time he was fifteen, and I could not have been happier for him. It left me time for my other interest. Besides, it is every god's dream to have a child who grows up to be a professional in our godly domain. Why not? Athena hopes for her kids becoming architectures. Hephaestus hopes his kids become inventors. Ares hopes his kids be soldiers. It just seems natural.

As I was washing up from the shrapnel extraction, Harley shuffled over, fiddling with his beacon device. If it was any other demigod, I might find it offensive that they are doing something like that while my kids are missing, and his fellow campers are injured. But when it comes to children of Hephaestus, them fiddling with gears and gadgets was their way of dealing with whatever is on their mind. The fact Harley's eyes were puffy from crying told me this was one of those times.

"It's my fault," he muttered. "I got them lost. I…I'm sorry."

He was shaking. I realized this little boy was terrified of what I might do.

For the past two days, I had yearned to cause fear in mortals again. My stomach had boiled with resentment and bitterness. I wanted someone to blame for my predicament, for the disappearances, for my own powerlessness to fix things.

Looking at Harley, my anger evaporated. I felt hollow, silly, ashamed of myself. Yes, me, Apollo… ashamed. Truly it was an event so unprecedented, it should have ripped apart the cosmos.

"It's all right," I told him.

He sniffled. "The racecourse went into the woods. It should not have done that. They got lost and… and—"

"Harley"—I placed my hands over his—"May I see your beacon?"

He blinked the tears away. I guess he was afraid I might smash his gadget, but he let me take it.

"I'm not an inventor," I said, turning the gears as gently as possible. "I don't have your father's skills. But I do know music. I believe automatons prefer a frequency of E and 329.6 hertz. It resonates best with Celestial bronze. If you adjust your signal—"

"Festus might hear it?" Harley's eyes widened. "Really?

"I don't know," I admitted. "Just as you could not have known what the Labyrinth would do today. But that does not mean we should stop trying. Never stop inventing, son of Hephaestus."

I gave him back his beacon. For a count of three, Harley stared at me in disbelief. Then he hugged me so hard he nearly rebroke my ribs, and he dashed away.

I tended to the last of the injured while the harpies cleaned the area, picking up bandages, torn clothing, and damaged weapons. They gathered the golden apples in a basket and promised to bake us some lovely glowing apple turnovers for breakfast.

At Chiron's urging, the remaining campers dispersed back to their cabins. He promised then we would determine what to do in the morning, but I had no intention of waiting.

As soon as we were alone, I turned to Chiron and Meg.

"I'm going after Kayla and Austin," I told them. "You can join me or not."

Chiron's expression tightened. "My friend, you're exhausted and unprepared. Go back to your cabin. It will serve no purpose—"

"No." I waved him off, as I once might have done when I was a god. The gesture probably looked petulant coming from a sixteen-year-old nobody, but I didn't care. "I have to do this."

The centaur lowered his head. "I should have listened to you before the race. You tried to warn me. What—what did you discover?"

The question stopped my momentum like a seat belt.

After rescuing Sherman Yang, after listening to Python in the Labyrinth, I had felt certain I knew the answers. I had remembered the name Dodona, the stories about talking trees…

Now my mind was once again a bowl of fuzzy mortal soup. I could not recall what I had been so excited about, or what I had intended to do about it.

Perhaps exhaustion and stress had taken their toll. Or maybe Zeus was manipulating my brain—allowing me tantalizing glimpses of the truth, then snatching them away, turning my aha! Moment into huh? moments.

I howled in frustration. "I don't remember!"

Meg and Chiron exchange nervous glances.

"You're not going," Meg told me firmly.

"What? You can't—"

"That's an order," she said. "No going into the woods until I say so."

The command sent a shudder from the base of my skull to my heels.

I dug my fingernails into my palms. "Meg McCaffrey, if my children die because you wouldn't let me—"

"Like Chiron said, you'd just get yourself killed. We'll wait for daylight."

I thought how satisfying it would be to drop Meg from the sun chariot at high noon. Then again, some small rational part of me realized she might be right. I was in no condition to launch a one-man rescue operation. That just made me angrier.

Chiron's tail swished from side to side. "Well, then… I will see you both in the morning. We will find a solution. I promise you that."

He gave me one last look, as if worried I might start running in circles and baying at the moon. Then he trotted back toward the Big House.

I scowled at Meg. "I'm staying out here tonight in case Kayla and Austin come back. Unless you want to forbid me from doing that, too."

She only shrugged. Even her shrugs were annoying.

I stormed off to the Me cabin and grabbed a few supplies: a flashlight, two blankets, a canteen of water, nectar, and ambrosia. I remember the book Percy had at his apartment—the one Halcyon gave him. Even Percy admitted what he learned from that book helped him a lot with his destiny. Heck, even if I had all my memories, I cannot count how many times Athena bragged about how wisdom and knowledge was a powerful tool.

"Well, I guess it's finally time to put up or shut up as the mortals say," I said as I took a few books from Will Solace's bookshelf. Honestly, I know I could have gone to Athena Cabin for books, but after today, I did not want to deal with an unhappy Malcolm. Thankfully, Will seem to keep a good reference materials about me to share with new campers, so hopefully that is a good start.

When I left the cabin, I was greeted by Alabaster.

"We need to talk." Alabaster said.

"Okay. Talk." I spoke.

"First off, what are you going to do about Austin and Kayla's disappearance?"

"Uh, duh. I plan to save them tomorrow," I said.

"What about Cecil? Miranda? Ellis?" Alabaster said.

"If Austin and Kayla are with them, which I have no doubt they are, I plan to save them," I said.

"And if they're not and you find those three first?" Alabaster asked.

"Why do you care so much who I save?" I asked. "Most importantly, what does this have to do with anything?"

"You don't remember me, don't you?" Alabaster asked.

"No…" I hesitated as I was starting to get the idea.

"You don't remember me encouraging Hecate to finish up what Kronos started?" Alabaster asked. "How I wanted to destroy you Olympians?"

As he asked my memory triggered. "You're that Alabaster Torrington? The one who led your siblings to help Kronos."

"Yeah, and you almost exile me for it." Alabaster said. "Honestly, I would prefer exile if Ethan hadn't asked me a favor to come back."

"That's why you hate us gods? Because how you were treated?" I asked.

"I hated you because you're nothing but ruthless dictators," Alabaster responded. "You use whoever you want whatever you want not caring about who you hurt doing so."

"If that's so, why don't you go join the Beast and take us down already," I said.

"Who the heck are you talking about?" Alabaster asked.

"The Beast! Isn't that why you are still here? You're working for him?" I asked.

"I'm still here because you let Delphi get capture!" Alabaster said.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"After the Giant War, my mother came to me in a dream," Alabaster said. "She told me since I chose to return to camp, I can't return until the Oracles are freed. Only then I understand the error of my ways and prove my forgiveness to the Olympians."

"Hecate said that," I said.

"I don't even know why she think that, but I never question Hecate's words," Alabaster said. "But so far I only see a pathetic former-Olympian who is no different than those who punished you."

"That's not true!" I responded.

"Then why haven't you gone to Delphi yet?" Alabaster said. "It's obvious that's your trial! What are you waiting for?"

I wanted to tell this guy to shut up. That I am waiting until I became a god again. That…

I stopped myself remembering what I thought when I had the same conversation with Chiron. I thought of not going there myself but send a demigod in my place. That is exactly what Alabaster wanted to hear.

"Good night, Apollo." Alabaster said. "As much as I hate you, I do hope for the others to be saved."

Alabaster left. That was it. No good luck. No more advice or warning. No, I hope you succeed. Just that he hoped the other be saved. Then again, from the demigod that did not care about the campers when he was urging Hecate to keep fighting the Olympians, that was an improvement.

He could be lying though about not helping the Beast, but I got a strange feeling he was not. His destiny really seemed somehow tied to me succeeding in freeing Delphi.

I finally was able to reach the edge of the woods. Meg was still there.

I had not expected her to keep vigil with me, but after Alabaster, nothing surprises me. Besides Meg said she decided keeping me company was the best way to irritate me.

She sat next to me on my blanket and began eating a golden apple, which she had hidden in her coat. Winter mist drifted through the trees. The night breeze rippled through the grass, making patterns like waves.

Under different circumstances, I might have written a poem about it. In my present state of mind, I could only have managed a funeral dirge, and did not want to think about death.

I tried to stay mad at Meg, but I could not manage it. I supposed she had had my interests at heart… or at least, she was not ready to see her new godly servant get himself killed.

She did not try to console me. She asked me no questions. She amused herself by picking up small rocks and tossing them into the woods. That, I did not mind. I happily would have given her a catapult if I had one.

As the night wore on, I read about myself in Will's books.

Normally this would have been a happy task. I am, after all, a fascinating subject. This time, however, I gained no satisfaction from my glorious exploits. They all seemed like exaggerations, lies, and… well, myths. Unfortunately, I found a chapter about the Oracles. Those few pages stirred my memory, confirming my worst suspicions. As I read, I also came to realize when Alabaster was talking about Oracles, he was not just talking about Delphi—possibly not just Dodona as well. Ella the harpy might have a roll, but she is at risk too, if she has not already been captured. Even then, there is still two more.

I was too angry to be terrified. I stared at the woods and dared the whispering voices to disturb me. I thought, Come on, then. Take me, too. The trees remain silent. Kayla and Austin did not return.

Toward dawn, it started to snow. Only then did Meg speak. "We should go inside."

"And abandon them?"

"Don't be stupid." Snow salted the hood of her winter coat. Her face was hidden except for the tip of her nose and the glint of rhinestones on her glasses. "You'll freeze out here."

I noticed she did not complain about the cold herself. I wonder if she even felt uncomfortable, or if the power of Demeter kept her safe through the winter like a leafless tree or a dormant seed in the earth.

"They were my children." It hurt me to use the past tense, but Kayla and Austin felt irretrievably lost. "I should've done more to protect them. I should have anticipated that my enemies would target them to hurt me."

Meg chucked another rock at the trees. "You've had a lot of children. You take the blame every time one of them gets in trouble?"

The way Meg asked reminded me what Alabaster said earlier about Olympians care what happen to demigods. Honestly, over the millennia, I had barely managed to remember my children's names. If I sent them an occasional birthday card or a magic flute, I felt good about myself. Sometimes I would not realize one of them had died until decades later. During the French Revolution, I got worried about my boy Louis XIV, the Sun King, then went down to check on him and found out he had died seventy-five years earlier.

Now, though, I had a mortal conscience. My sense of guilt seemed to have expanded as my life span contracted. I could not explain that to Meg no more than I can to Alabaster. How could any of them understand?

"It's my fault Python retook Delphi," I said. "If I had killed him the moment he reappeared, while I was still a god, he would never have become so powerful. He would never have made an alliance with this… this Beast."

Meg lowered her face.

"You know him," I guessed. "In the Labyrinth, when you heard the Beast's voice, you were terrified."

I was worried she might order me to shut up again. Instead, she silently traces the crescents on her gold rings.

"Meg, he wants to destroy me," I said. "Somehow, he's behind these disappearances. The more we understand about this man—"

"He lives in New York."

I waited. It was difficult to glean much information from the top of Meg's hood.

"All right," I said. "That narrows it down to eight and a half million people. What else?"

Meg picked at the calluses on her fingers. "If you are a demigod on the streets, you hear about the Beast. He takes people like me."

A snowflake melted on the back of my neck. "Takes people… why?"

"To train," Meg said. "To use like… servants, soldiers. I don't know."

"And you've met him."

"Please don't ask me—"

"Meg."

"He killed my dad."

Her words were quiet, but they hit me harder than a rock in the face. "Meg, I—I'm sorry. How…?"

"I refused to work for him," she said. "My dad tried to…" She closed her fists. "I was really small. I hardly remember it. I got away. Otherwise, the Beasts would have killed me, too. My stepdad took me in. He was good to me. You asked why he trained me to fight? Why he gave me the rings? He wanted me to be safe, to be able to protect myself.:"

"From the Beast."

Her hood dipped. "Being a good demigod, training hard… that's the only way to keep the Beast away. Now you know."

In fact, I had more questions than ever, but I sensed that Meg was in no mood for further sharing. I remember her expression as we stood on that ledge under the chamber of Delphi—her look of absolute terror when she recognized the Beast's voice. Not all monsters were three-ton reptiles with poisonous breath. Many wore human faces.

I peered into the woods. Somewhere in there, five demigods were being used as bait, including two of my children. The Beast wanted me to search for them, and I would. But I would not let him use me.

I have well-placed help within the camp, the Beast had said.

That bothered me.

I knew from experience that any demigod could be turned against Olympus. I had been at the banquet table when Tantalus tried to poison the gods by feeding us his chopped-up son in a stew. I had watched as King Mithridates sided with the Persians and massacred every Roman in Anatolia. I had witnessed Queen Clytemnestra turned homicidal, killing her husband Agamemnon just because he made one little human sacrifice to me. Demigods are an unpredictable bunch.

Although I doubt Alabaster was lying about not working for the Beast, I cannot ignore the possibility with him.

I glanced at Meg. I wondered if she could be lying to me—if she was some sort of spy. It seemed unlikely. She was too contrary, impetuous, and annoying to be an effective mole. Besides, she was technically my master. She could order me to do almost any task and I would have to obey. If she were out to destroy me, I was already as good as dead.

Perhaps Damien White or Ethan Nakamura… sons of nemesis was a natural choice for backstabbing duty, and like Alabaster, Ethan had worked for the Titans. Or Connor Stoll, Alice, or Julia… a child of Hermes had recently betrayed the gods by working for Kronos. They might do so again. Maybe that pretty Chiara, daughter of Tyche, was in league the Beast. Children of luck were natural gamblers. The truth was, I had no idea.

The sky turned from black to gray. I became aware of a distant thump, thump, thump—a quick, relentless pulse that got louder and louder. At first, I feared it might be the blood in my head. Could human brains explode from too many worrisome thoughts? Then I realized the noise was mechanical, coming from the west. It was the distinctly modern sound of rotor blades cutting the air.

Meg lifted her head. "Is that a helicopter?"

I got to my feet.

The machine appeared—a dark red Bell 412 cutting north along the coastline. (Riding the skies as often as I do, I know my flying machines.) Painted on the helicopter's side was a bright green logo with the letters D.E.

Despite my misery, a small bit of hope kindle inside me. The satyrs Millard and Herbert must have succeeded in delivering their message.

"That," I told Meg, "is Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Let us go see what the Oracle of Delphi has to say."