Chapter 14

Zoë had vomited when she returned.

By then, she couldn't take it anymore. She had wanted to get back to what she was used to: the forests and hills of the Hellenic peninsula. No more of the desert heat. No more of the arctic cold. It was a mistake following Percy. If someone like him couldn't stand the horrors of the land beyond the gods, how was she supposed to?

It wasn't like the last time when they were searching for the manticore and the gorgons. That last time they'd had each other. They'd endured together, and she'd fallen in love with him.

That was no longer an option. She had made a vow to Artemis, and other than her pre-existing feelings, she could not afford to feel any affection for Percy.

So why, in Artemis' name, did she decide to follow him east?

"Zoë!" Phoebe called out, grabbing her. Phoebe turned and shouted. "Zoë's back!"

A handful of Hunters rushed into action, immediately caring for her. She recognized two of them: Aikaterine and Helene. The other three were new faces. They laid her down in a tent, cleaned her mouth and began to wash her grimy face. Zoë was too exhausted to argue against their unnecessary care.

"Oh, thank Artemis you're fine," Phoebe said. The others got up to fetch food and water. "I thought you died when Artemis left."

Zoë blinked and pushed herself up until she was sitting upright. "Artemis left?"

"Diana," Phoebe clarified. "Her Roman form. She doesn't affiliate as much with us in that form. She's been back a couple of times as Artemis, but she's been away a lot. I always thought that you were the last thing that kept her Greek. When you fled because of Percy… Artemis was distraught."

Zoë chuckled, noting her foolishness. "I can imagine how poor of a model I must be as lieutenant."

Phoebe grinned. "Not that bad. The ones who have remained since you left haven't spoken poorly of you. I assure it. You were out fulfilling an obligation… an obligation I assume has been completed?"

The daughter of Atlas stared at her palms. The image of the burning village flashed in her mind, and she shuddered. "It has… but at a cost far greater than anticipated."

Her second-in-command shot her a worried look. "Did you injure yourself badly?"

Zoë shook her head solemnly and began telling the stories of what she saw, although omitting the gruesome details. She explained how she followed Percy through the mountains, how it reminded her of her old days as a Hesperide, and the centuries of death and destruction they had been through. In a way, she had lost her sanity.

"That's horrifying," Phoebe gasped. She looked repulsed. "How could someone watch those things for decades and not go insane?"

Zoë shook her head. "I don't know, Phoebe. I truly do not know. All I know is that thinking about Percy was the one thing that kept me rooted. Without him… I'm not sure if I would have made it."

Phoebe went quiet. "Does that mean… you truly love the son of Poseidon?"

Zoë shrugged and laughed humourlessly. "Can I really say that? Sure, I sacrificed myself for him. Sure, he was what kept me human. But at the same time, if I had a chance of doing it over, I never would have left. I would rather have stayed with my sisters. I would rather have never experienced the horrors of the land beyond the gods."

Phoebe nodded. "I see… Then what about him? Were you his root?"

Zoë felt her heart drop and sink in her chest. That had been the thing she'd neglected… that she'd forgotten.

"Zoë?" Phoebe gave her a concerned look.

Swallowing heavily, she muttered, "I… I never presented myself to him. He didn't know I followed him."

Both of them immediately knew what that meant. Percy had thought he had gone through all that himself. There was no doubt in her mind that he was not in the right mindset. If he acted like she thought he would…

"Let's find him," Zoë decided. "Just us two."

Her mistake had been finding him when he apologized to Aphrodite. Zoë had stupidly deemed that he was fine. She couldn't think of the unmistakable destruction he would come to commit. She always knew he was powerful. But she never thought he would use his power for murder and assassination.

Phoebe had warned her. Phoebe began to stop trusting Percy.

It was Zoë's mistake.

Because she couldn't come to terms that a boy, who was so courageous and bold, who stood for ethics and fought for good, who was a hero to all, could become something as demonic as the killing machine she knew him as today.

As she stared at him from across the boat, he didn't come across as a murderer. He seemed rather peaceful, rowing the ship with his freaky Poseidon powers and keeping them sailing south through the Tyrrhenian Sea. His lips were tight with concentration, however, and his eyes looked far across the horizon, as if wistful or sad. It had been a long time since she had gotten to stare at him like this. He was handsome; she couldn't deny that. But, more so, he looked normal. He looked like any random man she would run into on the streets.

But Zoë knew that his morals and everything he'd come to stand for were compromised when he was exiled. Not even her presence could save him. After all, in front of her, he'd led the assassination of Julius Caesar. In front of her, he'd revelled in the burning fire of Rome under Nero. Now, he had taken three demigods under his wing to destroy the last true legions of Rome. They'd succeeded in taking out the Eleventh. It was only a matter of time before the Trio would find the Thirteenth and Fourteenth. She hoped Irene was close to finding the scattered Hunters.

"So who's Chrysaor?" Percy asked suddenly.

Zoë recollected her thoughts. "I don't know much about him, but I've definitely heard his name before. Unfortunately, being Pegasus' brother isn't exactly good for fame. He dresses in all gold. I know that. He's referred to as the Golden Sword because of… well, his golden sword. If I recall correctly, some have boasted that he is a better combatant than Ares, perhaps. Despite Ares' cowardice, defeating Ares in one-on-one combat is near impossible, even for the gods. Of course, this is assuming a spear-on-spear or sword-on-sword battle. Not lightning bolt-on-sword. He runs with a crew of dolphin-men… the remnants of the crew that kidnapped Dionysus. I think Artemis said that once caught, no one could survive Chrysaor's wrath."

"Right," Percy muttered. "So that means his mother is… Medusa? Wow, great mom."

"She was a mortal once, like any mother of a demigod hero," Zoë pointed out.

His expression softened a touch. "I know. I wonder what my mom would've been like if she hadn't died."

"I'm sure she would be disappointed in what you have become," Zoë said.

He glared at her. "I wouldn't be in this mess if she hadn't died. The Romans may have risen, but I wouldn't be alive to see Apollo's rise and Ares' dominance. I wouldn't have been exiled to lands far off, and I wouldn't have had to suffer for hundreds of years."

She swallowed her anger. "Perhaps not, but the choices you have made shows exactly what kind of person you are."

Percy didn't drop his glare, but he said nothing.

Zoë wanted to believe that, somewhere in there, a kind, selfless soul existed. Centuries of hurt and pain had marred it, distorting it into a figure of hatred and fury. Zoë believed Percy had the ability to control his fatal flaw and use it for good. But she hadn't seen evidence of that yet, and as more and more time passed, her faith in him dwindled.

Over a thousand years as a Hunter had changed her too. She wasn't the same as she once was. Her feelings for Percy were a thing of the past... like an old memory she could look back upon fondly. Increasingly, she began to believe that there was a reason why she had become a Hunter despite their mutual attraction. Perhaps they were not meant to be, that their fates were not as intertwined as she once thought. She wondered if Irene was wired the opposite way.

But, for now, she was off on this stupid adventure with this stupid son of Poseidon.

"Why don't you rest first?" Percy said softly. His eyes glowed in the night. They looked nothing like the poison she saw five hundred years ago when he watched Brutus stab Caesar. "It looks like you need it."

She nodded. Her eyes felt heavy.

Going below deck, she found a comfortable spot in one of the rooms and fell into the land of dreams.

She was sitting in a chair inside the kitchen of a home. It was an ancient-style home, like the buildings they had back in Mycenaean times… like the buildings they had when she became mortal and Percy was still mortal. She felt old and frail while several young children played around her.

"Mother!" a voice called, and a middle-aged man stepped into the living space. He smiled and said, "Dinner's ready."

For a moment, Zoë had to do a double-take. The man looked almost like an exact replica of her: the same black eyes, dark hair and coppery skin. There was no doubt in her mind; this was what her child could have looked like had she decided to have one.

"Where's your sister?" another haggard voice barked from the kitchen. "Is she back yet?"

"I'm back now!" a woman shouted, running through the doorway. She had sea-green eyes and jet-black-hair. If the man was an exact replica of her, the woman was an exact replica of Percy. And if she was the man's sister…

Zoë pushed herself up onto her feet.

The dream-world spun, and suddenly she was alone with Percy. They were young again, perhaps twenty-five, and alone in the household.

"I'm glad I decided to rebuild this place," Percy said, grabbing her hands. "It's perfect for us."

Somehow, she knew what to say. "You grew up here, Percy. Your family has lived on these grounds for generations. It seems only right to continue the trend."

"Except we're not farmers," Percy chuckled.

Zoë laughed. She held him close. "We definitely aren't farmers."

Percy embraced her in a warm hug. "I love you, Zoë."

A lone tear fell down her cheek as she realized what this was a dream of. "I love you, too, Percy."

The scene shifted again, and reality set in. This time she was standing in front of a burial shroud. A cold, empty darkness gripped her heart as she watched. The intricate blue and green design gave away the identity of the body wrapped up inside. A beautiful, embroidered trident was engulfed in fire as the shroud was burned. Zoë was wearing Hunter attire.

A final scene change…

"How could you?" she was yelling. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. "You... you killed...!"

A word came out of her mouth, but she couldn't hear it.

It was raining, and the sky felt like a coffin's lid, slowly suffocating them.

Percy was standing across from her, blood stained on Anaklusmos. With a cold look, he growled, "If you hadn't intervened, I wouldn't have had to do it."

Thunder shook the world.

"Every time we meet, someone dies," she found herself saying. "You can't seem to hold it in, can you? All you can think about nowadays is killing. Killing. Murdering. Slaughtering."

He clenched his teeth. "So do you think I'm going to sit back and let them attack my kind? I get it. You're not from Greece. You're not of the same species. You're a nymph. You were meant to be a guardian of a garden for your entire existence."

"When you promised me you wouldn't break your oath, this isn't what I meant as a means to express your anger and fury!" The wind grew stronger. "I followed you into those forsaken lands and nearly died because of it."

"No one asked you to follow me!" Percy stepped closer, raising his blade to her shoulder. He sneered, and she could see the contempt in his eyes. "You don't seem to understand how I feel! Just because you have a family, doesn't mean that all is right in the world. The gods are unjust. I was exiled for nothing!"

"Since when did life become all about you?" she spat back.

He pushed her roughly with his hand. She stumbled back, surprised at his nerve. He stabbed Anaklusmos into the ground, and the world began to tremble. Percy looked up at her, his eyes filled with unwavering hate.

"Goodbye, Zoë."

Zoë stood guard sometime in the night. Percy hadn't kept track of exactly when.

When he'd gone to wake her up, he noticed that she had been crying. He could see her red cheeks and puffy eyes. She muttered something like 'eternal lovers'. Percy almost smiled at the reference. It was back in Persia when they were hunting, or had just finished hunting, the gorgons. They had been talking about being the eternal siblings when Zoë mentioned the term 'eternal lovers'.

That was the night they'd first kissed.

Then she scowled and mumbled 'I hate you.'

He couldn't be sure, but he had the feeling she was referring to him. He shook his head, returning to his duties and waking her up. It was his turn to rest.

He didn't dream of anything when he slept.

But when he woke up, he felt an unnatural presence. Almost as if a ship had pulled up to their starboard side.

Percy shot up from his spot on the floor and was immediately met with a strong punch from what looked like a dolphin. He collapsed back to the ground. Two pairs of strong arms grabbed him and moved him up to the top of the deck. He let out a grunt as they threw him hard to the deck.

Glancing up, he saw Zoë at sword-point and dazed near the bow of the ship.

He growled in frustration and turned his attention up toward the golden boy standing in front of him.

Chrysaor was dressed in Greek combat armor—sandals, kilt, and greaves, a breastplate decorated with elaborate sea monster designs—and everything he wore was gold. Even his sword, a Greek blade like Anaklusmos, was gold instead of bronze.

What really intrigued Percy was the guy's helmet. His visor was a full face mask fashioned like a gorgon's head—curved tusks, horrible features pinched into a snarl, and golden snake hair curling around the face. Percy had met gorgons before. The likeness was good—fitting of a son of Medusa.

"Hello, brother." The golden warrior's voice was rich and velvety, with an exotic accent—Persian perhaps. "What brings you out to sea on this fine evening?"

Percy concentrated on the sea. He could feel the waves bending to Chrysaor's control. Never before had he run into a son of Poseidon who could control the sea as he could. He was rather impressed.

Chrysaor's lips curled in distaste. Percy figured the golden boy could see his expression. "You think you're so famous. I was the first to ever wield an enchanted gold blade. I should have been the most famous hero of all time! But the legend-tellers decided to ignore me, so I decided to become a villain instead. As the son of Medusa, I would inspire terror. As the son of Poseidon, I would rule the seas!"

"You became a pirate, huh?" Percy nodded, impressed. "You should've tried capturing Julius Caesar. Now that would've been a sight to behold." Then he focused. "But, um, I heard a different story."

"A different story?" Chrysaor watched him with interest. "And what would that be?"

Percy analyzed Chrysaor's stance. He was relaxed but his feet were shoulder-width apart and his knees were slightly bent. He was ready for combat at the slightest provocation. "Well, Aphrodite said that you gave away your first golden sword to the Trojans and initially liked humans. But then you turned against them and became the pirate you are today."

Chrysaor chuckled. "Of course Aphrodite would twist the story that way. No, I never gave the Trojans my sword. It was stolen from me by Apollo, who gave it as a gift to the Trojans to gain favour." The pirate growled. "And the Trojans have built this massive empire… Is it not natural that I wish to pirate these seas and capture the riches of the gods? Regardless, do we not share the same enemy? After all, I heard you were the one to destroy Rome."

"That story isn't entirely true," Percy said with a shrug. "I helped destroy Western Rome. But, alas, that's not what I'm here for."

Chrysaor nodded and stabbed his sword into the deck of the ship. Leaning on it, he said, "I expected as much. So what for then?"

"Well, as you might expect, Aphrodite wanted me to get her jewels back. I heard you stole them from a convoy headed to Constantinople."

The pirate nodded. "Of course. Lots of precious jewels. Why wouldn't I want to take them?"

"So, I know you won't give them back, but why don't we make a trade?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What trade?"

Percy glanced at the two dolphin warriors holding him. "If you have them let go, I can show you."

Chrysaor nodded at his dolphin warriors, but Percy could tell they were still holding their weapons at him, ready to attack at a moment's notice. He was glad that Chrysaor wasn't underestimating him. He hadn't had a nice fight since he destroyed the Thirtieth Legion. Reaching into the Infinity Pouch, he produced the Sword of Troy… or as it should have been known as: the Sword of Chrysaor.

The Golden Warrior's eyes bulged. He pointed at the sword as if he couldn't believe what he was looking at. "Where… where did you get that?"

"Of all the information you have about me, I'm surprised you never figured out about this one," Percy admitted. He stowed the sword back into the pouch. "I took it from Aeneas as he settled down in Ausonia."

Chrysaor had a hungry glint in his eyes. His eyes stared calculatingly at the bag. "So you want to trade the sword for Aphrodite's jewels?"

Percy glanced at Zoë. "And our safe passage to Constantinople."

"Safe passage," Chrysaor murmured. He blinked and seemed to come to his senses. With a scowl, he said, "It's the jewels and your safe passage, brother. That is as far as I'll go."

Percy didn't expect his first try to work, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed that Chrysaor hadn't fallen for the bait. He looked at Zoë. "What's wrong with her safe passage?"

"You didn't expect me to have found your ship without needing something from it, did you?" the son of Medusa chuckled. He'd recovered from his shock quicker than Percy had anticipated. "There are these Frankish scouts. They've been chasing this Hunter ever since she set fire to their village and killed the Village Elder and the Chief's wife. They want her."

Percy gave Zoë a surprised look. That was the first he'd heard of that.

"What will it be, brother?" Chrysaor asked, as if he was in an advantageous position. "Will you sacrifice the girl to continue on? Or will you die the death you've been longing for?"

Percy didn't stop staring at Zoë. She'd begun to catch on to the conversation, awakening from her dazed state earlier. She blinked hard, her eyes screaming at him to leave her and get Aphrodite's jewels. He was tempted to do so. He didn't doubt Zoë's ability to fight. But against this whole crew of dolphin warriors? She would definitely be caught and executed by those Frankish scouts.

Chrysaor smiled. He still seemed to believe that he had control over the situation.

"I think you're forgetting one thing, golden boy," Percy said.

Chrysaor's smile faulted. "And what would that be?"

"I'm a son of Poseidon, too."

Percy began concentrating on the power of the sea. He felt the wind pick up around him. Power flowed through his veins as he began to charge up his power. Even if Chrysaor was holding the sea around them, it didn't mean Percy couldn't use it too.

"Ha!" Chrysaor barked in laughter. "I was born when the first Perseus slew my mother. I am your senior. Do you seriously think you have a chance against me?"

Percy smirked. "I think you're forgetting another thing, brother."

The golden boy's confidence dissipated as the ocean around the boat rose like a ring, surrounding them like an enormous wave. Chrysaor scrunched his face in concentration, but he couldn't stop the water from rising. Soon, he panicked.

"What… what is this?" he exclaimed in horror.

"You see, even if I haven't been patrolling the seas for the past millennium," Percy explained as he controlled the water, "learning how to control my powers when I was far from the ocean did wonders. I don't suppose you've ever summoned a tidal wave, Chrysaor? You must have heard of Trajan's Thirtieth. I drowned them all."

Chrysaor's eyes narrowed. He drew his sword. "Then we'll settle this the old way, Percy. With swords."

Percy smirked and let the water fall. The boat surged up on the ensuing wave. He unclipped Anaklusmos and let the sword spring to life. "Let's party."

Zoë almost forgot why he was able to survive alone in the land beyond the gods. Percy's combat skills had nothing to do with his ability to wield a sword. Yes, he was good with a blade, but his athleticism, his mind, and his raw power only made him even stronger.

Chrysaor was a brilliant swordsman. He moved quicker than any swordsman she had seen before. She believed that he was almost as good, or perhaps better, than Ares. But not even he was prepared to fight someone like Percy.

The thing was… Chrysaor meant to scare his opponents with his gorgon mask. He was lightning-fast, and in the middle of the ocean, the all-gold armour made him seem like he truly was an all-powerful being that was impossible to defeat. He used his power to control the seas around them, causing fog to roll in and create an eerie atmosphere.

That didn't work on Percy.

And as fast as Chrysaor was, Percy was too powerful. His eyes gleamed like balls of poison, and the fog around him turned into storms. A miniature storm collected around him, swirling and crackling with lightning. The eerie atmosphere that Chrysaor had so delicately created was replaced by a massive squall. The water underneath the boat thrashed wildly, causing chaos and panic amongst the dolphin warriors.

Percy lunged forward and slashed through the air where Chrysaor had been standing just a moment prior. They battled back and forth, thrusting and parrying.

The only difference was that Chrysaor's brow was breaking into a sweat. Percy looked like he was enjoying the fight.

Zoë could only imagine what Percy would've looked like when he was destroying the Roman legions. It couldn't have looked pretty. Zoë almost wanted him to stop fighting the way he was and just let Chrysaor go, but she knew how pirates worked. If Percy didn't beat him into submission, she doubted they would get what they wanted.

Percy slashed up and almost cut through Chrysaor's mask. Chrysaor rolled backwards to catch his breath, but Percy kept pushing forward. He aimed a push kick and connected right through the chest. Chrysaor flew back onto his own boat, his sword clattering to the deck. Percy leaped over the railing, chasing after him, and a bunch of the dolphin warriors chattered in worry. They jumped back over to their boat to get a closer look.

The two dolphin warriors above her glanced at each other and lowered their weapons. They moved to the edge of the boat to grab a closer look. Zoë took the opportunity to slowly stand up and sneak over to the other ship. The dolphin warriors seemed too distracted to stop her.

Creeping down below the top deck of Chrysaor's ship, she went to search for the jewels. Pearls, gold, jade, sapphire and silver were on the list if she recalled correctly.

When she got to the treasury, she was overwhelmed by the amount of loot Chrysaor had managed to accrue. Most of the loot was trades goods. A large portion of it was composed of Roman goods that had been looted by the Goths from big Roman cities like Rome, Ravenna, Cumae and those kinds of places. There were small stashes of currency randomly scattered around the room.

Everything a person could think of stealing from cargo ships was in here, including silk from the Far East.

It wasn't long before she found Aphrodite's jewels. They were in a plain wooden box, perhaps to mask the inner contents. It had been placed at the back of the room. Clearly, Chrysaor had prioritized keeping the jewels safe. From what she gathered, Chrysaor didn't seem like the type to be ignorant of what he was taking.

She yelped as the boat shuddered, knocking her off balance. The boat leaned starboard, and Zoë began to slide against the wooden planks. With a loud thud, she crashed into the wall.

She quickly picked herself back up and began to surge toward the exit. They needed to get out of here… fast. There was no doubt that soon the dolphin warriors would come to the aid of their captain and swarm Percy. He could only fight for so long before tiring. She could feel the tension of the sea as the sons of Poseidon wrestled for control.

Just as she reached the bottom of the steps, a handful of dolphin warriors appeared at the top of the stairs, their weapons drawn. She swore she could see the sneers on their snout-like faces. They descended the steps and formed a ring around her. She pulled out one of her daggers for protection, but she knew that it wouldn't suffice if they actually attacked.

"Listen, there are five of you and one of me," Zoë said, trying to buy herself some time. "We don't need to get violent here."

One of the dolphin warriors chattered angrily at her and raised his weapon. As he did so, there was a loud snap as the wood at the back of the boat, and therefore the back of the room, gave way. A hole formed, and ocean water began gushing into the room.

The dolphin warriors glanced back and forth between her and the hole, seemingly wondering what to address first. It seemed they had retained their intelligence in their partial transition from man to dolphin—that was to say, they were quite stupid.

"Hey," she exclaimed, pointing at the box of Aphrodite's jewels. "Do you want to save this tiny box or all the other treasures in this room that are going to be washed away? I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend the next few weeks swimming around the ocean trying to find everything you lost, am I right?"

The dolphin warriors glanced at each other before deciding that she was right. They rushed to block the hole.

Zoë smirked and ascended the steps to the top deck, where Percy was finishing Chrysaor off.

Percy slashed through Chrysaor's mask and kicked him backward, sending him tumbling into the ocean with a scream. Percy quickly snatched Chrysaor's second golden sword and ran toward their boat. Zoë jumped the gap and immediately began firing at the dolphin warriors who were attempting to surround him. As he jumped the gap, he used the waves to flip Chrysaor's boat and capsize it.

"Send us off!" Zoë shouted.

Percy used his last remaining bit of strength and sent their ship hurtling forward into the sea. He turned to look at her and said, "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed.