Chapter 13: I Blow Lady Hera's Ultimate Plan

By the time that the wheels began to smoke, I knew I had to do something. The chariot was about to burst apart under Arion's speed, despite the Imperial Gold axle and wheels.

"Uh, Sea-son, you might want to think about asking the water to, I don't know, keep us together until we can reach land?" Arion nickered to me over his shoulder.

'I can't, the water can't move fast enough as you do,' I thought back.

"Then use a little godly power, huh? We're about to explode, and with Imperial Gold involved, Frank and Hazel might not survive," the horse whinnied angrily, trying to focus on more than running at the moment but wanting to be free of the ridiculous burden attached to him.

Frank glanced at the wheels at the corner of his eye, seeming to notice for the first time.

'Absolutely not, godling! Don't you dare ruin my pla—!' Hera began hissing in my mind.

'Hera, your plan is about to become voided anyway, if Frank or Hazel dies! I've got to keep this stupid chariot together!' I thought back, gripping the sides of the chariot.

'Then call on your father or something! Athena! Those two worked together on chariots, let them deal with this one!' Hera said exasperatedly.

'Do you honestly believe that Athena would help me in something as small as this, when I could just do it myself anyways? And like I just told Arion, at the speed we're running, I doubt my dad could just zap us and fix the chariot like that. This horse is fast, your majesty,' I thought. I could feel godly power begin to flow down my arms.

'PERSEUS JACKSON!' Hera screeched, but I cut her out of my mind. I needed to concentrate hard to keep this chariot together, at least until we could reach land. Arion had already shifted directions, and was headed for the nearest piece of land he could find.

I concentrated. The warm, buttery glow I had felt so many times simply itched to be released. It wanted to flow freely, like water, and it didn't really like being restrained, like me. I closed my eyes, as Frank watched me uncertainly.

He yelped as the cracks in the chariot began mending, and glowing with a warm light.

"Percy!" he yelped.

I gritted my teeth. It was taking more concentration than I thought. Stupid ADHD/Battle-senses.

"It's fine, Frank. Don't panic," I said, focusing. The chariot seemed to be shivering as it tried again and again to explode.

Arion was suddenly zipping through a forest, heading further away from the ocean. He stopped suddenly.

I could feel the axle wanting to break apart. It was extremely explosive, if it were to be broken. I could feel the surge of power that would very likely create a large crater in the forest if I let it explode. Arion might not be hurt, and I wouldn't be much, but Hazel and Frank probably would be blown to smithereens if that happened.

With the last of my energy, I shoved my power into the axle, solidifying it again. I gasped, and fell backwards, exhausted. The chariot simply contented itself with collapsing, and Frank spilled out nearly on top of me. Hazel slid off of Arion, before cutting him out of the harness. She simply stared into his eyes for a moment.

Arion nickered softly. "I'm sorry, Hazel. I have to go. I'm starving."

Hazel turned to me, and I breathed in deeply.

"He says he needs to eat. No wonder. He probably burned, like, a zillion calories."

Hazel looked at the ground around her feet. She frowned, and looked back at Arion. "I'm not sensing any gold around here, Arion. Why don't you go graze? We'll meet you—"

Arion bobbed his head, and disappeared, leaving only a trail of steam. Hazel looked after the direction he had gone dreamily.

"You think he'll be back?" she asked, concerned.

"I don't know, Hazel, he seems kind of free-spirited…" Frank said, standing up slowly.

"Yes, he will," I said. "I got to talk to him. He's fond of you."

Hazel smiled. Frank looked down at me like I had grown a third arm.

"Can we talk, Percy?" he asked. Not really waiting for an answer, he helped me to my feet, and half-carried me a distance away, before propping me up against a tree. He looked at me hard "What the Tiber was that light-show you were doing back there?!"

I grimaced. My shoulder hurt, which was saying something. I'd been stabbed in the gut personally by Ares' sword, and that pain had gone away in a few moments. This was taking longer, like I was trying to regenerate the bones. "Ah. That is something I need to talk to both of you about, and I'm going to do it when I have the strength to stand on my own."

"What do you need to talk to both of us about?" Hazel asked, surprising Frank substantially.

"Like I said, when I have strength again," I said, leaning against the tree. I turned to look at the two of them, grimacing again as a small throb of pain shot down my spine. "Frank, Hazel, do either of you know where we are?"

Hazel looked lost, but Frank sighed. "I do. My grandmother's mansion is over that direction," he said, waving towards the forest. "Just over the river and through the woods."

"Seriously?" I asked, grinning. "To grandmother's house we go?"

Frank looked sheepish, but also somehow managed to look angry. "Yeah. C'mon."

He began to walk off, before remembering and coming back, letting me sling one arm around his huge, ox-like shoulders. I stumbled along beside him, my strength slowly coming back. But as we walked forward, Hazel trailing behind us, a small campfire suddenly came into view.

"What are those?" Hazel hissed, peering forward. I looked forward too. Several large, ogre-looking brutes were hustled around the small fire, laughing and eating some strange meat. It looked like they had mauled a bear, and decided to eat it raw. A small pile of Celestial Bronze cannonballs clued me in, and I scowled.

"Canadians," I said, remembering my first run-in with The Laistry—Laistrygodias? Laistry-gondolas? I couldn't ever remember the name.

"Ex-cuse me?" Frank said, looking very offended.

"That's just what I was told they were called," I said, shrugging. "They lived in Canada. They're supposed to be cannibals or something? I fought some of them with Annabeth once."

Frank, grumbled, but he seemed mildly mollified. "Yeah, well," he said, "we're in Canada. I'm Canadian. But I've never seen those things before."

"Laistrygonians. Cannibals. Northern giants. Sasquatch legends. Yep, yep. They're not birds. Not birds of North America," Ella said, studying one of her feathers from her wings.

"Yeah, that's what they're called," I said, finally remembering. Not like my tongue could still say it. "Laistry—uh, what Ella said."

Frank studied the group of ogre-cannibals, before grunting in agreement. "They could be mistake for Bigfoot. Maybe that's where the legend came from. Ella, you're pretty smart."

Ella blushed. "Ella is smart," she agreed. She shyly offered Frank her feather.

"Oh, thanks," Frank said, and I smiled as I watched his gentle panda side of his personality come out in him. It had been far too serious recently to see it. "What?"

At first, I thought he was talking to me, but then I realized that Hazel had been glaring at him. She shook her head, and turned to me.

"Nothing," she said. Her eyes fell on mine. "So, your memory is coming back? Do you remember how to beat these guys?"

The way she said it sounded off, and the way she was studying me was reminding me too much of Annabeth's glares.

"Yeah, um, we just killed them with Celestial Bronze, but that was before… y'know."

"Death got kidnapped," Hazel finished. She turned to glare at the ogres. "So now, they might not die at all."

I nodded, before I had a sudden idea. "Those bronze cannonballs… those are bad news. I think we used some of them against the giants. They catch fire and blow up."

I winced as I realized what I had just said. There was no way I was letting either of my friends go towards those cannonballs. I saw both Hazel and Frank simultaneously reach for their pockets, reassuringly patting for the firewood. Frank glanced at Hazel for a moment, before his eyes lit up again. He had an idea, or at least the beginnings of one. And I bet it had to do with that spear on his back. I had noticed it in New Rome, when Mars had given it to him. 'A man's weapon,' Mars had called it.

But the tip looked so fragile. It wasn't celestial bronze like my sword, or even Imperial Gold. It looked like… bone?

With a sensation like a slap to the face, I realized what Frank had at his disposal. I paled.

I had missed some conversation as my brain connected these pathways. Frank stepped forward, slinging the spear off his back.

"Frank, wait—" I began, about to warn him of what was about to happen, but it was too late. Frank rammed the tip into the ground.

The ground ruptured under his spear shaft, as he moved away. His calm demeanor suggested that he had summoned this thing before, but I still drew my sword. I wasn't about to let this thing attack my friends, just in case.

Hazel had it the worst. She had not been expecting the spartus at all, and she made a horrible sound like a cat trying to hack up a hairball. The spartus appeared, and saluted.

"Frank, that's a spartus," I began, just in case he didn't realize what he had. "A skeleton warrior. They're evil. They're killers. They're—"

Frank turned to me, looking very much like he also wished he hadn't had to summon it. "I know. But it's a gift from Mars. Right now, that's all I got."

The blow hit me more than it should have. Right now, that's all I got. I realized that I was not being as helpful as I probably could have been on this quest so far. And I had the feeling that Frank knew it.

Frank turned back to the spartus. "Okay, Gray. Your orders: attack that group of ogres. Lead them off to the west, causing a diversion so we can—"

But the spartus was no longer listening. I could've warned him that sparti did not really care for complex orders. Gray was already in motion, and before I could even blink he'd taken out all six ogres. Frank looked mad that he hadn't been able to draw more ogres away, but he couldn't ignore results. Gray kicked apart the golden fragments of the Laistrygonians, and I was impressed. He had made his own method to keep them dead. Resourceful bag of bones.

Gray sank into the ground, and Frank turned, studying Hazel carefully, with pained eyes. Hazel just stared back at him, awe evident on her face. But as I looked back at Frank, I could see plainly that Frank only saw her expression as fear or perhaps disgust. My heart yearned to reassure him, but Frank turned away, glaring harshly at the spear-shaft in his hands.

"Let's go," he said, quietly. "My grandmother might be in trouble."

With that, we began walking towards the house again. Hazel fell into step at my side as we both watched Frank with concern, who was stomping off towards the house. I knew that he would not be responsive to reassurances tonight. I'd have to wait until tomorrow to tell him what Hazel's reaction really meant.

"Percy, do you know why he's so upset?" Hazel leaned over and whispered.

"Not really, Hazel," I said, wondering what I could do to make him feel better. "I think he's upset that he had to use the spear. It's a powerful weapon, and he only used it to take out six ogres and three snakes so far."

Hazel nodded. "It definitely is. I could understand that, I suppose."

She fell silent for a little bit.

"So," she began slowly. "Are you going to tell him soon?"

I looked at her as we walked. "Tell him what?"

"That you're a god," Hazel said, shrugging.

Hera nearly had a heart attack in my head, and I bit my lip.

"Er, why do you think that I'm—" I began, but Hazel interrupted.

"Percy, or whatever your real name is," Hazel began, growing quieter as she spoke, "it's been obvious for those who were watching. I saw you holding the chariot together by yourself. I felt when the firewood left my pocket at the Amazon base, and I saw you studying me. I even saw your face behind Frank's in our blackout for a few moments. I saw your ropes crack and writhe on your hands by themselves, in front of Hylla. And the way you wince when you say you're memory is lost tells me you don't like lying. I've known for quite some time, actually."

I whistled under my breath. "Remind me never to play poker with you. You'd pick out a bluff a mile away."

Hazel grinned for a moment, before she fell silent and collected again. "So, who are you, really?"

I slowed down a little, letting Frank get a little further ahead. "I'm really Percy Jackson. A while ago, I… no, there's too much. Let me sum up," I said, making a list of bullet-points in my head. "I'm a new god. Annabeth, a friend of ours, and I are all gods of the Unclaimed. Hera, or Juno if you prefer, sent me on this quest, though I don't know what she's trying to accomplish. She told me that I would need to hide the fact that I was a god."

Hazel nodded, keeping pace with me. "So you're here to help?"

I nodded. "I used to be a demigod. I know that these quests cost people. Sometimes, they cost them lives." I couldn't help but think of all the friends I'd never see again. Beckendorf, Silena, Michael Yew… I frowned slightly. "But I won't let that happen to either you or Frank. I swear on the river Styx."

"Which brings us to the next question," Hazel says quietly at my side. "Back in Portland, the oath you swore to Phineas; how did you—"

"I swore, not knowing which vial was the correct one. I swore, and Styx accepted my oath. But immediately after I said it, Hera told me which vial it was. If you had heard my thoughts just then, you would've heard that I was terrified that Styx would hold me responsible."

Hazel smiled again. "So, I have another question. So far, in this quest, I've gotten to know which? Percy the demigod, or Percy the god?"

"Both. I've never changed," I said, shrugging. "I was sick of the way the gods treated all of the demigods, and I decided to do something."

Hazel nodded. "So, how come I've never heard about you in the legends? You sound like you'd be mentioned at some point—"

"I was only turned into a god a year or two ago," I said, grinning. "But that's another story for another time."

Hazel nodded. "I want to hear it at some point."

"And I'll tell it to you then. But right now, we have other issues to attend to," I said quietly, as we approached an old, but massive, house.

Frank hesitated at the door, though. He looked like he was having a slight flashback of his own. I hesitantly spoke.

"Frank, everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said slowly, coming out of whatever he was thinking about. He turned the knob. "Just, everyone stay together."

We all walked in, and immediately, I was struck with how empty the house looked. It looked like it had been abandoned or something. I saw Frank and Hazel looking around too. The fireplace was cold and empty, dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, and the air smelled somewhat musty. Frank scanned the layout of the room for a moment, obviously noting these things as well.

I saw Hazel glance at the fireplace, and pale slightly. She clamped a hand on the pocket of her coat protectively. "Is that—?"

"Yeah," Frank said. "That's it."

Hazel gave him a sympathetic look, and I was shocked when Frank just turned away towards me, not acknowledging her sympathy.

"It's the fireplace," he said, sounding out of patience. "Come on. Let's check upstairs."

I just nodded and followed along. This place was giving me seriously haunted vibes. For only a moment I wondered if it was a haunted mansion, but I quickly dismissed that thought. Any ghost that floated into this place would've flown out, screaming in fright.

Frank walked into what I assumed was his old room, first. He had a spare bow and quiver, and I noted the awards on a shelf. What they were for, I couldn't quite read. Evidently, even Greek gods had dyslexia.

"Your mother?" Hazel's voice suddenly said, breaking me from my musings. I turned to look, finding her studying a picture in her hands. "She's beautiful."

I was slightly relieved when Frank seemed to blush slightly. I knew that he was still in there, and whatever had happened to him on the ride here had not completely shaken his character.

Frank then began to show us the other bedrooms. But he paused at the last one. I noticed a dim light coming from underneath the door, and I frowned. There was someone familiar behind that door, I could feel their presence.

Frank cautiously knocked. There was no replying answer. He opened the door.

Kneeling next to the bed was the Roman god of war himself, Mars. On the bed was a frail old woman, who looked like she was about to wither into dust at any given moment. Her breathing was slow. She didn't seem to have much time left.