Perseus was an excellent fighter, but from the second his and the golden man's swords crossed, Annabeth knew he was outmatched.

The newcomer was impossibly fast and impossibly skilled; Annabeth could barely even keep up with his movements with her eyes, much less her own weapon, if she'd had to. Perseus put up a good fight, but whoever this was was inhumanely talented. They traded only a few strikes before the newcomer flicked Anaklusmos out of Perseus's hands in an almost lazy fashion. It skittered across the deck, lodging itself against the railing on the far side of the ship.

That would have been bad enough, but there were at least a dozen figures beginning to jump from the deck of the new ship onto their own.

Annabeth knew immediately that this was a fight she would lose. She could maybe take one or two of them head on, depending on their skill, but twenty? That would be impossible. Her hands itched to draw her knife, but she knew it would be useless against so many assailants— all armed with swords— and worse, it would be confiscated.

If she could hide it though— it was strapped to her belt, but all the focus was on Perseus right now, and it probably would be for at least ten more seconds. They were tying his hands around his back, which meant they probably didn't mean to kill him, at least not yet.

She was still on the deck from having been knocked over when their ships collided, which turned out to be an advantage. Annabeth just managed to shove the knife under the fabric of her dress when the golden man's henchmen turned to her.

Wedging it between her knees without the help of her hands was a more difficult task, especially without them noticing. She did it though, just as one of the men got close enough for her to make out his— or more accurately, its face.

She almost screamed. It wasn't made of human flesh as she'd been expecting, but some strange greyish rubbery material. What facial features they did have were smashed and twisted, halfway between human and monster. If the golden man calling Perseus "brother" hadn't been an indication that this was not a normal group of pirates, these creatures certainly were.

Annabeth put up a fight, but it was mostly for show, to keep her on the ground. If they forced her to walk, she would probably lose her knife. Thankfully they were perfectly content to drag her across the deck, and it wasn't difficult for her to act scared and hysterical. They barely even bothered to bind her hands behind her back before tossing her next to Perseus, who they'd deemed enough of a threat to fasten completely to the railing.

She could hear screams coming from below deck, but she did her best to drown them out. They would be alright, they had to be alright, but now she had to focus on making a plan.

"Who are they?" she whispered to Perseus. He just shook his head, his green eyes frantically darting around the deck; though what he was looking for Annabeth didn't know.

"He called you brother," Annabeth said, desperately trying to keep her voice calm and quiet. She was sure the panic leaked into it anyways, but at least she didn't seem to have been overheard.

"I don't know," He said, voice fraught, "The ocean, it's not—"

He was cut off by the rest of the group being dragged up onto the deck. Piper had a gag in her mouth, so they'd apparently already discovered her charmspeak. Leo's restraints were metal, not rope— perhaps he'd burned through the original ones, or perhaps they'd been forewarned about his powers. The others were simply bound the way Annabeth was, hands behind their backs. They'd all been disarmed, their weapons securely held by the strange henchmen.

It was a horrifying sight, but Annabeth couldn't help but breathe a shaking sigh of relief. They were still alive.

"Well, that was simple enough," the leader said, strolling casually towards Perseus and Annabeth, "Honestly, brother, I thought you would put up a better fight."

The closer he got, the harder it was for Annabeth to stow away her fear. Soon he was standing right over them, and Annabeth's heart felt like it was thudding out of her chest.

He was still holding his sword, and Annabeth noticed a knife strapped to his belt. He wore no armour except for his golden helmet. Maybe it slowed him down, or maybe he was arrogant enough to believe nobody would get a hit in edgewise whether he had it on or not. Considering his skill, that arrogance was not entirely unearned.

Now that she could see it properly, she realized his helmet wasn't just an ordinary shape, but instead crafted in the likeness of something utterly horrible. It was even worse than the monster-faced men its wearer commanded. Long, angry tusks protruded from its mouth, and snakes made up its hair. Even its normal features— eyes, nose and mouth—were pinched in a hideous expression.

Panic rose in Annabeth's throat, but she swallowed it down. Panic was a privilege she was not currently afforded.

"Who are you?" Perseus all but snarled, straining against the ropes that bound him to the railing. Annabeth had no idea how he was able to so quickly replace his distress with anger, when she herself could barely think with everything going on around them.

The golden man wasn't impressed or intimidated by Perseus's anger. If anything, he seemed to find it amusing.

"You really don't recognize me? Your namesake was responsible for me, in a way."

The man was toying with them, putting on a simpering tone. Fine, Annabeth thought; if he wanted to play games, that would give her more time to come up with a plan.

"I think I would remember a face as ugly as yours," Perseus said.

It happened so quickly Annabeth almost thought she imagined it. One second the words left Perseus's mouth, and the next a thin red line of blood appeared on his cheek. She saw his eyes widen slightly in shock, then narrow again. He wouldn't give his attacker the satisfaction of knowing that his strike had rattled him, but Annabeth knew better.

"It's a tremendous shame you're worth more to me alive than dead, Perseus. I would love to kill you," the man said, as if nothing noteworthy had happened. His henchmen made a bizarre chittering sound. It took Annabeth a second to realize that they were laughing.

"Who are you?" Annabeth asked, repeating the previous, unanswered question. Perseus sent her a sharp warning glance, but she ignored it.

The man's attention shifted from Perseus to Annabeth slowly, luxuriating in the attention. Annabeth hated to give him what he wanted, but she needed more information.

"See, brother? Annabeth knows how to ask a question politely."

Annabeth's stomach turned. It was one thing for him to know Perseus's name, but hers? That was much worse. She was nobody compared to the others on this ship. If he knew her name, what else did he know?

She did her best to keep her face neutral, to not let him know just how much it bothered her. His eyes were hidden in the darkness of his helmet, making his expression completely unreadable.

"Since you asked so nicely, Annabeth, I am Chrysaor."

"Son of Medusa," Perseus supplied, a sort of disgusted recognition rolling over his features. It seemed he had remembered how they were related, and had not found it pleasant.

"And of Poseidon," Chrysaor added sharply, "I'm sure you've noticed that your powers don't work around me, brother."

So that was what Perseus had been trying to tell her before, about the sea. It wasn't responding to him, which Annabeth supposed was why he hadn't just summoned a wave to sweep all their attackers away.

Annabeth couldn't remember any story having to do with Medusa's children beyond Pegasus, who had sprung from her head after the first Perseus had cut it off. There was nothing there that gave her a weakness to exploit.

In fact, it gave her the opposite. Clearly he was an immortal, or at least a monster, if he was still alive so many hundreds of years after his mother had been killed. Annabeth prayed to all the gods that it was the second option. If he was a monster he could be killed, at least temporarily. If he was a god, they had no hope of defeating him.

"I suppose that's why you have dolphins as your crew?" Perseus asked, distaste clear in his tone. With a start, Annabeth realized that was what the creatures were— half dolphin, half man. She'd never seen a dolphin before— which was why she hadn't immediately recognized them— but she'd seen pictures and heard stories.

"You mock, brother, but my crew is made of only the finest warriors. So what if they had a little run in with a god some years ago? The transformation only made them stronger."

Some of the dolphins chittered nervously. Apparently they didn't fully agree with Chrysaor's assessment. Something about those details felt familiar, but she couldn't quite place why yet. Annabeth filed that information in the back of her head, letting her subconscious stew on it while she focused on more pressing matters.

"What do you want?" Annabeth asked. She sensed Perseus was about to make another smart comment that would get him even more injured, and she wanted to avoid that if at all possible. Chrysaor had said he wanted Perseus alive, but there were a lot of things that could be done to a person without killing them.

"That's very simple, Annabeth," Chrysaor said. Annabeth had a feeling he was only repeating her name because he could tell how unsettled it was making her. "I want to take you and Perseus hostage, steal all your gold, and kill all your friends."

He said it so nonchalantly, Annabeth almost wanted to believe it was a joke. But she knew he meant every word of what he said. Even now she could see past him to the strange henchmen lugging supplies up from the storage room. They hadn't found anything that interested them yet, but clearly they were going to pilfer whatever they could after they killed or captured their victims.

"Why?" Annabeth asked. Her mouth had gone dry, and she was sure he could tell. He was enjoying this, enjoying torturing her, but as far as she could tell it was the only reason he hadn't bothered to kill the others yet. She could practically feel Perseus radiating fury beside her.

"Because I'm being generously compensated."

"By who?" Annabeth pressed, but Chrysaor just laughed.

"It's going to take more than a pretty face for me to divulge that information."

Annabeth swallowed down the bile that had started to rise in her throat. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel them raking over her. She knew Perseus had noticed, from the way he was straining against his bonds.

Chrysaor clearly sensed that he had struck a nerve. The bottom portion of his mask revealed a sadistic grin as he crouched down until he was eye-level with Annabeth. It was hard to meet a gaze she couldn't see, but she kept her expression as hard and unreadable as possible, even though her heart was pounding.

"Get away from her," Perseus said, his voice low and dangerous, but Chrysaor ignored him.

He placed two fingers under Annabeth's chin, tilting it upwards just slightly. Annabeth knew it was more about control than any real desire to see her face. His touch felt like ice against her skin, and she suddenly felt very aware of her knife still wedged between her knees. What she wouldn't give to have it in her hands right now.

"I was so excited when my patron instructed me to leave you alive. Luke had mentioned you were beautiful, of course, but it's one thing to hear, and quite another to see."

Whatever resolve Annabeth had been putting forward crumbled as soon as he uttered Luke's name. She felt all the blood drain from her face, all the fight leave her body, replaced with utter shock.

"Annabeth—' she heard Perseus said, desperately, but his voice felt tinny and far away.

She'd forgotten how to speak, but even if she could remember she had no idea what she would say. Chrysaor's grin deepened. Annabeth felt nauseous.

"He insisted that I not touch you, of course," Chrysaor continued easily, as if he hadn't just entirely upended Annabeth's existence, "But my patron made it clear that you would be mine until you were delivered. It was part of the payment."

A flare of anger tore through her, strong enough to burn away the shock of hearing Luke's name for the first time in over a decade. She was not an object that could be passed around and delivered from one man to another, and she was not a payment.

Annabeth still couldn't find words to speak, but she didn't need to. She spit on his face instead.

She'd been expecting his sword in retaliation, but somehow his hand was much worse. She couldn't help the short gasp that escaped her as his palm connected with her cheek, the slap surprising her just as much as it hurt her. Perseus made an outraged noise beside her, but she barely registered it.

Maybe some would have looked at the strike as a kindness, given it was sparing her of the blade. Annabeth saw it for what it truly was: an indication of her place. Perseus was important enough for his sword. Annabeth could be dealt with with just his hands.

"Enough games," Chrysaor said angrily, wiping Annabeth's spit from his chin with two stiff fingers, and straightening up to his full height, "It's time for your friends to die."

He turned and walked towards the others. As soon as his back was turned on her, she let her knife drop to the ground, desperately trying to shuffle it close enough to her hands to grab before he looked back at her.

"What are you doing?" Perseus hissed, but Annabeth ignored his question.

"The dolphins," she said instead, in an urgent whisper, "If we can distract them somehow—"

"We might stand a chance," Perseus breathed.

"They have a weakness. They were scared when he brought up whatever god they'd run into."

Realization washed over his features, but before she could ask him for the details her attention was broken by a muffled scream. Annabeth whipped back around to the far side of the deck. The scream had come from Piper, who was being restrained by two of the dolphin men. Chrysaor was standing over Jason, golden sword drawn.

He was going to kill Jason, and Annabeth was going to vomit.

But before either could happen—

"I would not do that, if I were you," Perseus called. His voice was casual, completely non-threatened. It shocked Chrysaor enough to turn away from Jason and back towards Perseus.

"This doesn't concern you," Chrysaor said flatly. Apparently looking at Perseus reminded him that he was not a threat, and he turned back to Jason.

"Maybe not," Perseus admitted, "But I think our patron might be upset to return and find his brother dead."

Annabeth had no idea what he was doing, but whatever it was, he spoke so convincingly that it was working. Chrysaor hesitated. The dolphins chittered. Annabeth managed to snag her fingers around the hilt of her blade. She slid closer to Perseus, so they were shoulder to shoulder. It would be incredibly risky to try and free him while everyone's attention was on him, but she didn't see another option. To his credit, Perseus didn't react at all when she clumsily started cutting away at his bonds with her knife, her own hands still bound.

"You have no patron." Chrysaor said, but Perseus had sounded so overwhelmingly confident that Chrysaor couldn't keep the uncertainty out of his voice. One of the dolphins squeaked.

Perseus tilted his heads towards the heavens. Given he was already kneeling due to the nature of his bonds he looked the perfect picture of prayer.

"Forgive him, Lord Dionysus! He does not know what he speaks of."

His words had the desired effect. The dolphins were just about sent into a panic at the very name of the god who had turned them into monsters to begin with.

Annabeth remembered that story now— a group of unlucky pirates had kidnapped Dionysis by mistake, not knowing he was a god. In retaliation Dionysis had transformed the crew into dolphins. Apparently some of them hadn't completed that transformation, but from the noises they were making now Annabeth would bet they were absolutely terrified of the prospect of becoming fully animal.

"You fools! He's lying!" Chrysaor yelled.

"He's not!" Annabeth insisted. Her voice was less steady than Perseus's, but she did her best to make it as convincing as possible, "Have you not noticed that those barrels are filled with his sacred drink?"

The barrels that the dolphins had lugged up from below deck were not full of the god's sacred drink. Annabeth knew for a fact that they contained water and nothing more, but she had also been looking straight at Hazel as she said it, silently begging her to understand what she needed to do.

Thank the gods Hazel was clever. She made no indication that she'd seen Annabeth's plea, but Annabeth saw some of the foggy air begin to collect around the barrel closest to Chrysaor.

At the same time, Annabeth cut the last rope binding Perseus's hands, and pressed the hilt of her blade into his palm. She felt his fingers close around it, and she pulled her hand away.

"They lie," Chrysaor repeated, but he sounded even more uncertain than he had before.

"Open the barrel then," Perseus countered, tilting his chin out slightly. It was a challenge— one Chrysaor couldn't refuse if he hoped to remain in control of his crew.

It was also a sign of trust. He knew as well as Annabeth did what those barrels contained, but he went along with her plan anyways. Maybe he had noticed Hazel's magic swirling around it, but Annabeth had a feeling that would have thrown his support behind her words regardless.

Chrysaor turned to the nearest barrel, the one Hazel had tampered with with her magic, and ripped the lid off. Annabeth couldn't see the contents, but from the way the dolphins reacted— lots of loud, strange reeting, maybe as close to a scream as they could get with their disfigured vocal cords— she knew their trick had been successful.

The dolphins were on the verge of retreat, Annabeth could feel it. Some of them were already openly backing away. The two that had been holding Piper back dropped her unceremoniously. They just needed one final push to send them over the edge.

Thankfully, Perseus provided it.

"He will be terribly angry to find our journey delayed! You should leave before he returns, and curses us with madness, or turns us into dolphins!"

The words should have sounded absolutely ridiculous, but he said them with such profound conviction that Annabeth almost found herself believing him. The dolphins certainly did, especially when the potent scent of wine started to fill the air.

Then Piper let out a very convincing scream— one that Annabeth wasn't entirely sure was faked, considering that Fai had started to transform into a dolphin before their very eyes.

Hazel had a very small smile playing at her lips.

That was the breaking point for the crew. The horrible sound of their dolphinic-human screams filled the air as they rushed in every direction. Most just leapt off the side of the ship. A few tried to make a break for their own, but found that the dock was too difficult to reach. In the chaos Annabeth saw Piper snag one of their fallen weapons, and free Jason's hands of the rope tying them together.

Chrysaor roared in anger, swinging his gold sword and dissolving three of his own men into yellow dust. That just sent the remaining dolphins into further distress. None of them seemed to notice that Fai once again looked distinctly human, albeit now a bit nauseous.

Jason grabbed his sword from a fallen monster and swung it at Chrysaor. The expert swordsman caught his blade, and they began to spar. Annabeth couldn't risk distracting Jason enough to tell him to come their way, but as her luck happened the fight pushed in their direction anyways.

Jason feinted, aiming a jab at Chrysaor's stomach. The pirate was expecting it, catching Jason's sword on his own and disarming him, the same way he had Perseus earlier in the night.

What he wasn't expecting was for Perseus to lunge forward, Annabeth's knife in hand, and stab him in the back.

Perseus had buried the blade hilt deep. With a dark look of concentration he braced Chrysaor's shoulder, dragging Annabeth's knife through at least six inches of tissue and bone, leaving a large gaping wound in Chrysaor's back. Then he removed the knife, letting the limp and bleeding body fall to the deck without ceremony. It hit the wood with a resolved thump.

Something touched her shoulder unexpectedly and Annabeth flinched, but it was only Piper. She was armed with her own knife again, and easily cut away the bonds at Annabeth's hands. Annabeth stood, very aware that her legs were trembling.

Piper looked on the verge of tears, and Annabeth pulled her into a tight embrace. She felt too numb to cry, but the attack had still shaken her to her core. Piper's arms around her felt steadying, but even they couldn't ward off the panic that was starting to build in her chest as the implications of Chrysaor's words started to sink in.

Luke had something to do with all of this. Maybe Chrysaor had been lying, just trying to upset her, but how could he possibly know about Luke unless he was involved?

She felt Piper's grip loosen around her, and Annabeth stepped back. Hazel and Fai were still working on undoing Leo's metal restraints, which couldn't be cut as easily as their rope ones could. Perseus had his back towards Annabeth, saying something to Jason. Chrysaor's body lay forgotten on the deck behind him.

Something about that felt wrong. Annabeth struggled to remember why, though she was sure there was a reason.

Piper was saying something, laying a soft hand on Annabeth's arm, but Annabeth couldn't process what she was saying. She couldn't take her eyes off Chrysaor's body, twitching in the moonlight.

Why was it twitching?

Almost too late, Annabeth's earlier realization burst into her mind— Chrysaor was not a normal human man. He was a monster. If he was dead, he should have dissolved along with his crew, he shouldn't be moving, and his hand should not be inching towards the knife at his belt—

He was fast, almost too fast, but Annabeth anticipated his move a split second before it happened. She didn't even have time to scream before she was throwing herself between Perseus and the knife. She knocked him out of the way just in time, pushing him and herself backwards. The tip of Chrysaor's blade barely grazed her shoulder— she wasn't fast enough to get completely out of the striking distance of his knife.

Perseus turned instinctively, grabbing her and pulling her back further. He couldn't hide how shaken he was, not in his eyes or the way he gripped her arms. The strike had been aiming for his neck, and it should have killed him— would have killed him— if Annabeth had not intercepted it.

They were both too stunned to ward off a second attack, but Annabeth barely had time to form that thought before there was a flash of gold, and a very resounding thunk. Chrysaor's head, helmet and all, was completely separated from his neck.

Annabeth looked up to see Jason, sword in hand, watching the body of the golden pirate dissolve below him. Then he looked up, his blue eyes meeting Annabeth's own.

"Are you alright?" Jason asked. Annabeth didn't know how he could remain so calm, when she herself could barely breathe.

"I—" Annabeth was vaguely aware of Perseus letting go of her, his hands moving away from her arms. She wished he wouldn't take away his touch.

"You're bleeding," Perseus said. She couldn't see his face, but she could practically hear the frown in his voice. She glanced down at the injury Chrysaor had given her. His knife had just caught her, but it was nothing serious. It was barely even stinging.

Annabeth took a deep breath, trying to find her voice again.

"It's just a scratch," she managed, "I— I'll be fine."

Jason nodded. Annabeth thought she saw some of the tension drain out of his shoulders.

"Good riddance," someone said from behind her. Annabeth turned. Hazel was standing there, arms crossed, looking down at the golden mask, the only thing that remained of the pirate, with a look of thinly veiled disgust. Leo and Fai had come with her.

"You were incredible, Hazel," Perseus said.

Hazel just shrugged, but Annabeth thought she saw the corner of her mouth turn upwards in a pleased sort of smile.

"It was your all's plan. I just followed along as best I could."

"How did you even know they would be scared of Dionysis?" Annabeth asked, looking up at him. He'd already admitted to not knowing much about Greek stories, and the story of the wine god's kidnapping by the crew they'd just met— and his subsequent revenge in transforming them into animals— was an oddly specific one to have.

Perseus shrugged, and gave an odd grimace.

"I've met Dionysus before, and he's threatened to turn me into a dolphin more than once. I made an educated guess."

There seemed to be a lot more to that story, and if the situation weren't so serious, Annabeth suspected his expression would be a smile rather than a scowl. As it was, Annabeth figured this was not the best time to ask.

"What now?" Fai asked. He seemed to have recovered from his Hazel-induced stint as a dolphin nausea-wise, but he looked as shaken as the rest of them.

"We need to move," Perseus said. He was still standing behind Annabeth, but sometime in between Hazel arriving and now he'd placed a steadying hand on her back. She wanted to lean into his touch, but she knew she shouldn't draw attention to it.

"The mast is stable enough, but we'll be a little slower than usual." Leo said. He was rubbing his wrist, maybe subconsciously.

"That's fine," Perseus said, "Just as long as we're not here when whoever sent Chrysaor realizes we've killed him."

"Someone sent him?" Piper asked, voice shaking. Jason wordlessly reached out his free hand, and Piper took it without even having to look down. Annabeth felt a strange feeling run through her at the sight of them.

"Apparently he was being paid," Perseus said. His words were clipped, clinical, but Annabeth still had to repress a shudder. The hand on her back tightened ever so slightly. "But we can worry about that later."

Annabeth rolled her injured shoulder uncomfortably. It was starting to get stiff, though that might just be a side effect of having her hands tied in an awkward position earlier.

"Why is his helmet still here?" Hazel asked. She nudged it with one toe, face pinched in disgust.

"Spoils," Perseus said, reaching down and picking it up. He held it out towards Jason.

"You killed him. This is yours."

Jason was already shaking his head.

"It was your plan that did him in. I just finished the job."

Annabeth knew that technically spoils of war were a huge honor, proof of having bested an enemy. They should have been fighting over who got to keep it, not trying to give it to the other. Part of it was humility, a respect for the others skills. But Annabeth suspected the larger reason they both wanted to give it away was that neither wanted to carry a reminder of what had just happened.

An idea formed in her head.

"Can I?" Annabeth asked, holding out her hand. Perseus and Jason both looked surprised, which Annabeth supposed made sense, given she had no real claim over the thing. Perseus handed it to her anyways. It was cold to the touch.

Annabeth turned, walked the few paces to the barrel of water Hazel enchanted. The contents still looked and smelled like wine. It was probably such a simple glamor for Hazel that she hadn't thought to disarm it when the fight was over.

Annabeth set the mask down in the barrel. It should have sunk, but it floated on the surface of the wine, staring up at her with blank eyes.

"Lord Dionysus, please take these spoils as our sacrifice. Our victory would not have been possible without you."

She felt a little strange saying the words aloud, but the liquid just bubbled, the mask sinking below the surface. The god of wine had accepted her offering.

"Good thinking," Perseus said. She had barely noticed him following her over, but now he stood shoulder to shoulder with her, peering into the barrel.

"It might not be good enough," Annabeth said. They had evoked Dionysus's presence in a huge, entirely false way. Giving him spoils that they hardly even wanted was not exactly a large sacrifice to make in return. She supposed he must be feeling good humored tonight, or maybe he still hated the dolphin crew enough to overlook their indiscretion.

"We'll burn a larger offering when we get back," Jason assured her.

Nobody said what Annabeth was thinking. If we get back. After tonight's close call, their success felt less assured than ever.

Annabeth blinked heavily. She was starting to feel dizzy, and she supposed the events of the day were starting to catch up with her. The others were starting to discuss plans and logistics, but Annabeth could barely hear them. She leaned against the railing and let the conversation sweep over her, not understanding any of it.

The injury on her shoulder ached. She ignored it, which was easy to do considering it was mostly covered by the fabric of her dress.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but at some point the ship started moving again. She could see Perseus and Leo at the mast, working together to raise the sail. He'd grabbed her hand and squeezed it before he'd gone off, quick enough that nobody but her had noticed.

At some point Piper pulled her below deck, and then she was lying down on a bedroll. She couldn't sleep, she just felt hazy and strange.

That was when Annabeth realized something was wrong. She should have been tired, of course she would be tired after all of that. But she didn't feel tired, she felt sick and her head felt clouded and her shoulder burned—

She sat up, head pounding. Piper's breathing was steady beside her, so even more time had passed without her realizing. The room was swaying around her, and she didn't think it was from the sea. With shaking fingers, Annabeth pulled back the fabric of her dress to reveal her injury.

The little red scratch was no longer little, red, or just a scratch. Instead the wound was a sickly green color, swollen with infection. Little squiggling lines of black had appeared around the injury, blood stained from the toxin starting to travel through her veins, away from the initial cut and into the rest of her body.

The knife had been poisoned.