What. A. Month!
Life has been picking up the pace! And I am... falling... behind. Ugh. I actually had this chapter prepared last week, but didn't find any time to post it. I do have some good news! I have the next chapter already finished- I'll post it next week for sure! Thank you all for your patience- I still enjoy writing the story, I just struggle to find the time to write (or the proper mood to write).
The last reviews that I received for the story were awesome- the very fact that people are excited to continue reading has me speechless most days. I have so much I want to do with this story, but I'm going to whittle it down a little to some basic plot points and character arcs. This will still be a full-length story. I'm going to stop being so sporadic and start us down the home stretch!
I hope you all enjoy this chapter- lemme know in the reviews or in a PM! To those long time fans, who've actually spread this story into other parts of the internet, I want to bow in respect. Thank you for thinking so highly of this story. I'll do my best to keep it going.
Have a good week, everyone. Happy Pioneer day (in 2 days)!
Percy:
Such a beautiful day to be within twenty miles of his last place of incarceration.
That was a joke, of course. Most of the time he came to California he stayed away from Berkeley and Oakland, setting a loose boundary of five miles from the entrance under the highway. He'd flown over New Rome once or twice, tempted to drop a bullet or knife into the boundary to mess with Terminus, but never approached from the land.
Demigods sneaking out of camp were always a risk, more so with the older campers, which was a greater risk of being recognized. Percy had mastered his wolfish nature with Lupa, but Roman demigods, especially, could spot a wolf from down the block.
Natasha Romanoff spent three years helping him learn to hide the wolf. Now, Percy had a handful of personas to call upon that reeked with… not demigod-like habits or traits.
Percy Jackson stood out too much. But Dave, no last name, was a Chad. As he walked down the street in his sunglasses and sweatshirt, sipping coke and looking down at a rock he'd mist-manipulated into an iPhone, Dave sufficiently looked as mortal as mortal came.
Percy had created cover identities in the past, but didn't like using them too much. Method acting was exhausting after ten minutes. By then, he'd be back to looking more like a demigod- the mannerisms and quirks that came with looking out for monsters and fighting mercenaries would start to leach out. People would start to avoid Percy on the street when that happened.
In those ten minutes, Percy found himself lost in thought. Thinking about what his next move needed to be and about what Scott had said to him.
'Someone to be proud of.'
That was a good thing to be. Thinking back to those angry words yelled between him and Thalia, Percy had wished he'd been more even headed. She'd said some hard words- and mentioning his mother was a low blow.
… But Percy had almost carved her up. Even when his other friends had asked him to stop. That wasn't Percy being someone worth being proud of.
Percy was reminded of his first visit to Mt. Olympus… hearing Poseidon call him a true son of the Sea god… he remembered a warm feeling deep in his chest. It melted that cold memory of the beach in Alaska like ice in the sun. Though, now that statement might make Percy feel a bit bitter.
He'd apologize later. He could do that, even if Thalia didn't deserve it. His mom would've wanted him to patch it up with his friends.
… now, to figure out the meaning of Rachel's prophecy.
"TO SAVE YOUR WORLD FROM EVIL, THE HEROES MUST CONVERGE. THE ANIMAL, THE DEMON, AND THE BROTHERHOOD MUST ANSWER UNDER ONE BANNER."
… This sucked. His first prophecy in five years, and he was as helpless at figuring it out as ever. An animal. A demon. A brotherhood. Three individuals at most, but probably more? Talk about being vague. Tsumishans must've been geniuses if they had decided weird phrases like that meant something about their future.
'Did Inuits go on quests?'
Percy shook the thought from his head. 'Focus.'
He veered off of the avenues that had small shops and businesses, trying to find a park or small government building- somewhere he could wash up in the bathroom and maybe shave off some of his stubble. He might've been maintaining a solid cover as he walked, but anyone looking closer might mistake him for homeless or lost. That stood out more to monsters.
Instead of a park, Percy found a biker bar. A Lyastrigonian biker bar, to be precise.
He hesitated- stopped in his tracks and tried not to gawk. With all the grace of a stumbling young adult, Percy ducked behind a light pole.
Any other mortal or Demigod would've been trapped quickly, Percy was sure. This was the kind of place no one would ordinarily go into, either. Maybe a couple of college kids, on a dare. Judging by the size of the cannibals, they probably feasted often.
There were half a dozen outside of the worn wood and concrete building. Neon lights flashed that they were 'Open to Serve- Beers and Bowels!' and several other slogans, along with the brands of beer served, were plastered on the darkened windows. The music could be heard from the street- Percy could feel his hearing aids itch.
The six Lyastrigonians were all on a smoke break, it seemed. They were surrounded by thirty or forty Harleys and Yamahas, and an extra-large Volkswagen van in the gnarliest shade of pink Percy had ever seen. Hope would've immediately wanted one. All the monsters were placing their backs against it, or sitting on the bumper. They were laughing, picking their teeth- standard monster behavior. Percy didn't dwell on it.
He tapped a little switch on the back of his aviators. "Daedalus, gimme a headcount. I think I've found a den."
"Exciting." Daedalus responded. "Would you like a Mist Density Sample as well?"
"I wouldn't be against it, so sure." Percy said, scanning the rest of the building. No second floor, the only windows were on the front of the building- there was going to be a back door, but Percy wasn't going to need to seal it. Lyastrigonians were too cocky to run from a single demigod. A number flashed in the left hand corner of his glasses- 57. "I'm gonna go ahead and clear the whole building- can you keep an ear on police chatter while I work?"
"I can let you know the moment the police are en route." Daedalus assured. "Please be sure to work quietly enough to ensure they aren't aware of your presence."
Percy took a deep breath, stepping out from behind the pole. He stretched his arms high above his head, shaking away any pre-fight jitters. "No promises." He said, making eye contact with the first Lyastrigonian.
The first, the dude sitting on top of the van, kicked the two sitting on the bumper. They saw Percy and alerted the other three. Each of them stood in their yellowed wife beaters and dark jeans- the rusty stains on the fabric told their own story.
"Looking to grab a bite?" Jeered one of the cannibals. The others started howling with laughter.
Percy pulled Riptide from his pocket. When he removed the cap, the pen shifted into the familiar blade he'd come to know. The bronze caught the light of the sunset, shining like a dozen reflective shards of glass on the grey pavement.
Monsters, Percy had learned, came to fear anything made of celestial bronze. Only the strongest ones in the forges actually worked with godly metals. These six giants- they all fell silent real quick. Percy pointed the tip of Riptide at the guy who'd spoken. "You're funny."
He didn't swipe at them- instead, Percy passed right between them and walked into the bar.
…
They were all Lyastrigonians. The staff, the patrons- everyone. All guys, too, but that was mostly an assumption. Percy wondered vaguely if the lady cannibals all lived in Tartarus as stay at home wives, or if Percy just never ran into the kind of places the ladies liked to hang out.
The coarse wood of the counter and creaky seats fit right at home in a monster den. If Percy ran his fingers over the wood, he'd be splintered pretty badly. The song 'Dude Looks Like a Lady' blasted from the speakers in the rafters, but the bass had popped and made the whole song all warbly.
There were two dart boards, a half dozen pool tables, and several arm wrestling competitions going on, but the que to enter into any of them was beyond what Percy was willing to wait for any bar-esque entertainment. He walked past them, sidestepping several cannibals as they moved around the pool tables to get angles on their next shots.
The six Percy had walked past in the parking lot had followed behind him, locking the door and turning off the 'Open' sign.
The bartender was easily the leader- while everyone stood at eight or nine feet tall, he was a solid ten. Huge tattoos covered his forearms- skulls and legs of mutton, respectively. His leather vest had been made with the hides of three cows- Percy could see the sloppy stitching easily. Laura Barton would be pursing her lips.
Most noticeably was the underwear. He wasn't wearing pants, which already told Percy everything he needed to know about the bar. Instead, he had on a deluxe XXXL pair of Duluth Buck Naked Underwear. In this outfit, his thighs, butt, and back were covered, and that was it.
The monster hadn't noticed Percy- considering his measly six-foot-zero frame, he wasn't surprised. He looked like a lost kid that had wandered into the bar, and his sword might as well have been a toothpick. Percy had to jump and pivot his butt midair just to get onto a seat.
"Got any Coke here?" Percy asked loudly, waving the big guy over to him. Buck Naked Bartender cannibal's eyes opened wide, then squinted at the demigod. All the other guys at the bar turned to look at him.
"Oí! Who was in charge of making sure the meat delivery got here deader than dead?" The bartender asked, spitting into a glass and rubbing the inside of it with a dirty rag. His toothy smile was caked in grit. When he spoke, his voice carried throughout the noises in the bar- every monster had their eyes on Percy. "This lil'ns still kicking!"
Another chorus of laughter, but everyone in the bar was standing squarely, already closing in a tight circle on Percy and his little barstool. The smell that circled Percy… let's not describe that part. It got worse.
Buck Naked Bartender set the cup he'd been spit polishing onto the bar with a jarring slam! He sauntered right up to Percy, hands placed on either side of Percy's puny (by comparison) frame. "What's a demigod doing here, of all places? Ain't you got a home somewhere over the hill?"
Percy put Riptide on the table between him and Buck Naked. The metal needed no introduction. A few cannibals took a half step back. Buck Naked twitched his eye. A small amount of chatter rose up from around the room.
"Nice toothpick." Buck Naked said, though his fingers began digging into the wood. "I'll pick my teeth with it when me and the boys are done with you."
"I'm Percy Jackson," Percy said bluntly. All other sounds of shifting, speaking, and general bar sounds stopped. The speakers over the bar scratched like a record being shattered on its turntable. Percy actually heard a pin drop somewhere behind him. "You can either peacefully surrender yourselves into my custody or fall on my sword. I'll give you thirty seconds to decide."
His voice was as cold as stone. His words echoed. His name, Percy had come to realize, was as widespread as it ever would be. Among every monster in Tartarus or on Earth, he was infamous. It'd startled him, the first time a manticore had whimpered at the sound of his name.
Names had power. His name finally held enough power that Percy could wield it.
There was, however, a catch.
"Liar! He's lying!" A Lastrygonian called from the back. "He doesn't smell like a sea brat! He's just a normal halfbreed!"
"The sea brat died years ago!" Came another brave, stupid, false evaluation. "Zeus blew him to Hades!"
A wide chorus of agreement echoed around the silent bar. The Lastrygonian circle began to tighten again. The music came back on, though it was still only a half-speed version of 'Mr. Mom.'
Only Buck Naked still seemed paralyzed. Percy looked at his wrist, wishing he was actually wearing a watch. "I only made it to eight-one-thousand, but I'm gonna assume that's your answer, too."
Percy picked up Riptide and swung from his seat, spinning in a full and deadly horizontal arc. Everyone within reach was blasted to black dust in an instant.
No one had time to react in any way that mattered. Cannibals picked up barstools only to be shredded to powder. The monsters trying to whittle the pool sticks to sharpened points? Vaporized. Percy ran between legs, keeping as low as he could as he slashed through jeans and leather pants.
Meaty hands tried to grab Percy as he passed between, but they only managed to find air. When hands weren't trying to grab him, fists instead tried to smash him- those ended up buried through the rotting floors of the bar. Buck Naked Bartender should've kept the building up to code better.
As fluidly as water, Percy weaved between pool tables and slashed through each monster with ease. Their size wasn't to their advantage- not when they had all bunched together around what they had thought was going to be an easy meal. Percy, although smaller, had come to master moving gracefully and speedily through a battlefield.
Chiron would be proud, Percy thought to himself.
Thirty left- the number flashed in the top left of his vision, right at the edge of his sunglasses. He hated being that weirdo wearing sunglasses indoors, but they did a lot of cool things when Daedalus was patched in to give Percy a sit-rep.
"The Mist Density Sample is complete- this bar has been caked in monster residue for over a decade." Daedalus supplied.
Percy ducked a tackle that would've put him in the ICU. Said tackler hit the wall with enough force to bust his head through it, as well as knock the dartboard loose. All those darts landed firmly in the poor guy's butt. The howling made Percy wince in sympathy. He slashed another three through their stomachs- this time without sympathy.
"How long since mortals have been able to enter here?" Percy asked, stabbing through the heart of another Lastrygonian. Another was about to tackle him, but Percy put Riptide in a reverse grip and yanked backwards with all his strength. The tackler barreled past him- but caught Riptide through his neck as he passed by. His stumbling body dissolved before he could leave a hole in the wall.
"Three years- mortals stopped visiting regularly altogether three years ago." Daedalus said. "There haven't been many kidnappings in this area- perhaps they fed on other communities after mortals stopped coming."
Percy had heard this tune a hundred times. It was a bad song that he couldn't remove from his playlist- it just kept popping up. All dens were places mortals stopped visiting- they stopped remembering. "We'll have to burn the place when we're done- scatter all the mist and let the community reclaim it themselves." Percy said.
Percy saw the last nine were all in a half-circle around him, but way far back. They acted like Percy was the giant, not them. No one was within twelve feet of him. It was too perfect.
Percy shot a length of hydrowire into the nearest heavy object- a pinball machine off to his right. The adhesive hooks attached immediately, and with the flick of his wrist Percy's gauntlet began to glow blue. "Nectar shot!" He shouted, sounding like a college student with a signature party drink.
Nectar was injected into three places in his wrist- the smallest, most concentrated amounts possible. It didn't give Percy super strength, but it did provide a rush of energy that had his gut twisting. The hydrowire whipped like a snake- the pinball machine crashed into the line of Lastrygonians like a car on the freeway. All ten went airborne- four were reduced to sand midair. The other six landed on one another with the grace (and sounds) of dying hippos. They began dissolving slowly as well- Percy helped them along their way.
"Did the police get wind of this place yet?" Percy asked, observing the carnage. The floor was filled with holes, and shattered pinball machine pieces covered the ground. The smell of rotten meat and beer was becoming sharper- that and the scent of something burning. The kitchen staff must've been cut down, too. The mess couldn't have been made quietly.
"Police have been notified- if you want to leave before being noticed, the time is now."
Percy was about to agree, but there was a single digit left in the corner of his vision. Somewhere, Percy had let a Lastrygonian get past him. He tapped the side of his glasses, switching the lenses. The entire bar glowed an eerie red, like Percy was standing in the middle of a smoldering fire.
"You think if I leave the fryers and stoves on, the place will catch on fire quicker?" Percy inquired, squinting into the reddish tint. There should be a path where the most was sticking to the last monster…
"Undoubtedly. Monsters rarely cook things with safety in mind." Daedalus sighed. The noise made Percy guess Quintus' long life had given him a lot of experience with the habits of monster dens. This was the first time Percy had encountered one disguised as a bar- were there any restaurants like this one, catering to monsters? The thought made him shiver.
Percy moved through the back and into the kitchen. Past the fryers, there was a back door half open. The wispy red mist was curling out of the door and into the rapidly approaching night.
Percy let out a whistle as he left the bar, taking in the fresh air again. "I didn't think any of them would have the brains to leave." He said, following the path the monster had unintentionally left behind. As Percy made his way between two buildings, he gave the bar a final once over. "Do you think the fire department will be able to put it out quickly?"
"None of the buildings on either side will catch- the mortals will be fine." Daedalus assured him.
Percy nodded, then began to quicken his pace. The chase was on- he couldn't afford to leave a single monster alive.
...
A bare street corner with a phone booth beneath a street light pole.
As the sun had gone down, the streets began to prepare for the night life that San Francisco had to offer. This particular street was maybe half a block long with two bars right across from one another and several small shops that had closed down for the night. Couples sat out at tables that covered the sidewalks, drinking and laughing like they had all the time in the world. The night was young, after all.
How they didn't notice the interrogation going on at the opposite end of the street, Percy couldn't guess.
The last Lastrygonian didn't actually fit in the telephone box, but Percy had managed to kick the guy hard enough that he'd been wedged in the doorway, fat and muscle squeezed in place. The monster roared in frustration, trying to shimmy his fat butt forward, but Percy stuck the tip of Riptide into his nose and the struggling stopped.
Percy switched off his glasses, then removed them (sunglasses at night? He wasn't a douche). The light overhead was making it too easy to see just how hairy this cannibal was, and Percy wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell. "You left before I could even get your name. Wanna give it to me now?"
"I ain't got nothing to say." Said the monster. He spit at Percy's feet, his nose touching the tip of Percy's blade. Dust crumbled where blood might've appeared. "You should let the runners go when they don't want anything from you."
Percy felt a hot spike of anger in his throat, but his words remained cold. "Don't run when you know what's coming to you." Percy retorted. "A little less meat in your diet and you might even stand a chance in a fight."
More spit. Percy's shoes were going to need to be washed. He placed his sword at the monster's throat instead- it dissuaded any further spitting and kept him from looking at Percy's face. The angry look on his face might make the monster think he was getting to Percy's head.
"I don't need anything from you." Percy said, placing the bronze against the monster's neck. "Join your biker gang in Tartarus- I'm sure they'll be happy to see you down there."
Percy raised his blade while the Lastrygonian struggled in vain to get himself free. Riptide glowed brightly as Percy brought it down.
The monster yelped, closing his eyes. "Tartarus! I can tell ya about The Pit!"
Percy's sword stopped. He hesitated while the monster opened one eye. "I can tell you what The Pit wants! But you gotta let me go!"
Percy let the sword dip to his side. "I can't let you go." He responded. "But you'll tell me what Tartarus wants anyways. Deal?"
The monster went to protest, but Riptide was back at his throat in an instant. Percy and the Lastrygonian stared into one another's eyes, waiting to see who would give first. All the cards were in Percy's hand- he had the weapon, the strength, and the power to put the cannibal in his place. The giant, much taller than Percy, whimpered.
"He wants you." The monster growled. "He's gonna take you from the gods no matter what."
Percy didn't break eye contact. "Where did you hear that from?"
"The Pit said it himself."
The sky became darker. The laughter at the bars went dead silent and the streetlights began to buzz and flicker. A cold, harsh gust of wind blew past the street like a shockwave from a bomb- all that was left behind was dead silence.
Percy didn't ask anything else- his sword did the talking. The monster died with a choked expression on his greasy face.
Percy took a step back from the telephone box, recapping Riptide and placing his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. The flickering street lamp settled down after a moment, casting shadows along the road. The outside tables were being cleared and cleaned- the bars were closing sooner than they should've.
There wasn't anything else Percy couldn't accomplish from a warm motel room with cable television playing in the background. Even after paying Scott, Percy could afford a room for the night.
He left the street behind without looking back. The wind didn't blow again.
Vision:
"A minor setback such as this is nothing compared to the obstacles we've already encountered." Vision reasoned.
Wanda, distressed, stood with her hands on either side of the vending machine, Avenger ID card between her fingers. Her head was placed against the glassy surface, her face's natural oils creating visible marks. Her eyes were closed, lips pursed.
Tony Stark had ordered several such vending machines scattered across the training compounds, at the suggestion of Sam Wilson and Percy Jackson. They were like any other machine you'd find in any other building, but Mr. Stark had made a personal adjustment to these snack food machines- any snack was free with evidence shown of an Avenger's ID card.
Percy, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda had been elated. Steve was happy to see each Avenger carrying their ID, as opposed to leaving them in their rooms or losing them in the cafeteria.
Vision did not eat. He never brought his ID anywhere with him, either. The Barcode engraved on the "A" symbol was easily replicated by Vision's skin cell adaptors. He could never be caught without his ID.
The purpose behind carrying these cards were undermined when your favorite snack was out of stock, apparently. Vision could only observe such a phenomenon.
"It's fine." Wanda said, pushing herself up. She took a deep breath in from her nostrils and let it out in a long exhale from her mouth. Her eyes passed over her ID in contempt before she shoved it into her pocket. "I'll just settle with water. Until dinner."
Vision scanned her breathing pattern, read her pulse through the vibrations in the floor, and recalled her last meal's carbohydrate count. When the observations had been made, Vision created a theory and came to his conclusion.
"Kettle Chips." He said, scanning his hand against the vending machine. He made the necessary selection as Wanda blankly stared back towards the training room that had come to take away from many of their free hours. "Kettle Chips will revitalize your strength and replace the carbohydrates you've lost while in training."
He pulled the chips from the delivery chute, opened the bag, and handed them to Wanda. She took them wordlessly- her eyes were averted. Vision continued speaking. "The sodium content is even lower than your regular selection of Pringles, so it's a 'win-win.'"
Vision made his way back to the training room as Wanda took a seat by the vending machine. She placed a chip tentatively in her mouth.
The training room had made a transformation unlike ever before- the far wall, completely made of reinforced glass, had to be sealed to simulate a complete twilight. Several huge vents had been installed with heat surpassing a jet engine's takeoff blast. High in the ceiling, supercooled air was being pushed across the thick metal. Frost and fire. Sweat and chill.
These sensations were dismissible for the Vision. Wanda had to feel each change in temperature at every moment. Complete darkness, extreme variances in weather.
That was without the climbing walls and uneven ground simulations moving in random pattern movements.
Wanda re-entered the room, and they got back to work.
"To your left- a ten degree change in temperature. Make sure to rework your weather shielding to accommodate for it." Vision said.
Wanda, standing in the center of the room, raised her left hand, finger tips flicking upwards. The red sparks that accompanied her powers filtered around her, whimsical at a glance. The amount of concentration etched in her face said otherwise.
Not a moment later the temperature spiked from the vent and let out a blue-hot flame. The blue flame made contact with the red sparks. The fizzling noises and dissipating heat cast shadows against the metal walls. "Very good." Vision praised. "Continue forward- the rock wall is just ahead."
Wanda pressed on. Each footstep was uneven, as the floor shifted and swayed. Pistons and tumblers moved beneath the floor, lifting and lowering the smallest square inches of space between her feet. Wanda had traded her typical shoes for mountain boots in an attempt to adapt quicker to the floor.
Even so, Wanda's movements hadn't gotten any less clumsy. Her steps were like those of a drunken bar patron. She did not reach the wall.
Percy had pre-programmed three courses into their environment and advanced changing space. Wanda had been given access to two of them, but Vision had been tasked with overseeing her training in the last two, harsher conditions. Among other things, of course.
As her overseer, he was keeping strict watch over her statistical probability of success. Since beginning the second course, Wanda had been able to make it to the wall 67% of the time. She had reached the top of the wall 23% of the time. Whatever time frame Percy was asking them to work on (which, statistically speaking, was 85% chance of it being less time than necessary), Wanda was feeling the pressure.
Vision turned off the program. The lights came on, the vents cooled off, and Wanda walked back to the hallway in even and measured steps. The entire exercise took eight minutes and twenty three seconds. Wanda was damp with sweat.
"I'm not getting anywhere with the floor moving beneath me." Wanda said, taking a sip of water. "With the heat making my head spin on top of that, I don't think I'll be able to finish the second course in time for us to start practicing with the third course."
Vision floated down, his cape billowing behind him. Unaffected by the heat or movement, his movements were all fluid. He made sure his tone was reassuring as he spoke. "Perhaps we've been going about these courses incorrectly. Percy may be opening these courses for you before you're adequately prepared for them."
"I was able to finish the first course before a week had passed." Wanda reasoned. "I should be able to finish this one by the end of this week, but I haven't made any headway." She pursed her lips, kicking against the ground with her boots.
"These courses will be progressively more difficult. I'm certain you will overcome them." He said, placing a hand onto her shoulder. She stood as still as a statue beneath his fingers, but the hyperactivity she'd developed was noticeable. Beneath her stony nature, a rumbling had begun to resonate within her.
She pulled away from him. "I'm- I'm not certain I can. Not this… hellish assignment." She mumbled. The Sokovian accent she carried became thicker with each word. "Why does Percy need us running drills like these?"
This sounded like one of those rhetorical questions Natasha told Vision not to answer. "It would be best if we focused on removing the influence of the heat from your head- perhaps reinforcing the sparkles around your entire body continuously would work?"
Another pause. Wanda placed her thumbnail up to her mouth, then pulled it away just as soon as she'd realized she'd done it. Her jaw clenched and unclenched. Her nose twitched. Each movement preceded the next at a rapid pace. There was no sign of her calming down.
Vision repeated his question. This time, Wanda paid attention. "That could work." She said absentmindedly. She spun on her heel, her boots clop clopping on the floor. "Run it again- I'll try to keep my 'sparkles' up and around me the entire time."
A strange sensation, one that had resonated in Vision's stomach for a few weeks now, began to strengthen and stir. It made his synapses fire. It left his mind uneasy.
Since Wanda had used her power over him in her hospital room, she had not been able to look him in the eye.
As she walked further away from him, he wondered if he could change that.
Reyna:
As they exited the airplane, Reyna was overcome with the urge to lock down the airport.
She had been on edge since the moment the Coast Guard had pulled all of the ferry occupants onto their boat. She'd been restless in the hotel in Ketchikan while the police had questioned all of them about the freak whale incident when their boat had been attacked. She'd nearly removed Grover's head from his shoulders when she'd accidentally bumped into him in the terminal as they'd been leaving the land beyond the gods.
Her nerves had been overcharged since Percy had been sucked into a jar.
"Are you getting a connected flight to New York right away, or are you going to stay in California for a little?" Nico asked Piper, Jason, Rachel, and Grover. Reyna's ears could hear the heaviness in Nico's voice- the flight had fried his nerves, too.
Jason, ever the spokesperson, had their answer ready. "We shouldn't wait. Chiron wants us back quickly- I think he's been invited to report to Olympus." His voice was quiet- it was dark outside. In the stillness of the terminal, every step they took echoed across the walls.
"This is going to be a mess to explain." Rachel said grimly. Reyna agreed- she hoped that Mt. Olympus wasn't itching to fall onto their treacherous heads yet. The gods were probably furious.
Reyna continued to scan the crowds in the waiting area as they began walking to baggage claim, then past that and out into the flight pickup and drop off area. Nico said goodbye to the New York party, leaving Nico and Reyna alone under the harsh streetlights.
Thalia had parted with the group in Ketchikan- apparently the other hunters had tracked her into Canada, and she took the opportunity to say goodbye to Jason, Nico, and Grover- no one else. She slipped away while everyone else was asleep, or so she had thought.
"I think I know where Annabeth is going to be, and I'm going to meet up with her before she does anything she'll regret."
Reyna had heard everything that night- restless in the hotel. Thalia had been agitated.
"She's going to want to know about Percy's oath."
"Did you wanna find a McDonalds before we go back to Camp Jupiter?" Nico asked, also scanning the streets. Reyna nodded in agreement, pulling the remaining cash from her pocket- it wasn't much.
Nico whistled lowly, turning out his empty pockets. "That's disappointing." He said flatly.
"I guess it's straight to camp, then." Reyna sighed, stretching her arms skywards and pointing her toes. Her aching muscles would be best taken care of in the baths of New Rome anyways. "Did you want to stay at my place tonight?"
Nico shrugged. "If it's cool that I crash on your couch?"
Reyna took Nico's hand, ready to shadow travel. They disappeared into a darkness far worse than the airport offered.
Beneath the ever-growing layers of uneasiness and worry growing in her stomach, she wondered… What would Percy do next?
Everyone who left the airport, as well as a dozen men and women on the other side of the country, were asking themselves the same thing.
