The next morning I woke up in the Engine Room with Leo in a deep sleep by my side. Admiring him in the low light as he snoozed peacefully with his bouncy curls falling in his face was a reward all in itself.
After dinner the night before, the two of us had snuck away to finish what he started in the mess hall. It was then that I learned just how strong and skilled Leo's hands really were. The power he held over me, the ability he had to turn me into a trembling mess whenever he wanted to, gods it was incredible and frankly kind of scary.
I was finding myself daydreaming about him nonstop; the feel of his hands on my body, the warmth he radiates at all times, and the sharp smell of his skin. It was getting a bit out of control. I almost amputated myself with my own sword when I was sheathing it after getting dressed this morning because my brain was replaying the moment when Leo slipped two fingers inside me for the first time and I came undone. Thankfully I just grazed the skin and didn't slice the flesh of my thigh very deeply. The slight pain helped me to focus on the physical world though, and I forced myself to remain present.
After all, being distracted could mean the difference between life and death for a demigod.
So after slapping a bandaid on my thigh and grabbing a quick breakfast, I overlooked the control console and listened to Festus's quick briefing. He informed me that we'd sailed relatively peacefully last night, but we should expect trouble due to the weather. When I glanced up at the dark storm clouds rolling through the sky, I understood what he meant immediately.
"Venti and aurae," I spat with disdain.
It seemed that we'd never be rid of the pesky storm spirits. Luckily Jason was on deck, and I was always ready for violence, so I wasn't too concerned. With a small burst of magic, I activated the alarm bells and willed my Celestial Bronze sword to fly into my hand just as the sky crackled with lightning.
The son of Jupiter must've sensed the change in the atmosphere, because he didn't bother to finish the apple he'd been munching before tossing it aside and soaring off into the air. Damn that flying was so badass, but I didn't get a chance to appreciate it for long, because a pair of venti zoomed right towards me.
WHOOM! WHOOM!
The two storm spirits whooshed pass me, disrupting the air around my body so forcefully that it made me dizzy and lightheaded. I stumbled away from the edge of the ship so the venti couldn't blow me overboard with their strong winds. A couple of aurae joined in, and before I knew what was happening they had me surrounded. Electricity jumped and bounced between their ethereal forms as they encircled me.
"Shit," I muttered.
My body moved almost autonomously, dodging and slashing, leaping and ducking as the storm spirits attacked relentlessly. Fighting was something that I understood, and one of the few instances when my ADHD actually came in handy. However it seemed like as soon as I disintegrated one venti, there were two more swooping down to join the fray. This wasn't looking too good for me. In just a few seconds, I'd surely be overrun.
Pouring my magic into my Celestial Bronze sword, I willed it to grow to a massive size. With a single swing of the blade, I managed to take out half of the horde that surrounded me. And boy, did that ever piss them off.
The remaining storm spirits screeched unnaturally and simultaneously released an electric charge that shot straight to my sword. Of course, I was practically holding a lightning rod in my hands. The electric shock ran through my body, and for a terrifying moment I thought that my heart stopped. I screamed in agony as the world around me faded to black.
When I could see again, I was no longer aboard the Argo II. Or at least my consciousness wasn't. A shiver ran through me as I took in my surroundings. Unfortunately, I recognized this dimly lit corridor with cracked ebony tiles. I've visited this place once before in my dreams, but when I reached the end of the lengthy hall it was obvious that things were different since the last time I was here.
Well, not physically here— you know what I mean, brain, don't get technical with me!
The first thing that I noticed was the trail of golden liquid splattered on the floor and smeared on the walls. A chill ran down my spine when I remembered Percy saying this was the blood of the gods. But what could be strong enough to make an Olympian bleed?
To the far right side of the dungeon style room, I saw the ebony cage that was used to imprison my father was empty, the door left ajar. In the center of the room was a table that seemed to be made from the same black metal as the cage. A man was strapped down to the table, leaking gold fluids from multiple places on his body.
"Dad?" I ran to his side and instantly felt like retching.
Anastasios was barely recognizable. It was like he'd aged decades since the last time that I'd seen him. His once lustrous golden hair was patchy, gray, and streaked with blood. In fact, most of his body was covered in wounds that were in various stages of healing. Anastasios was littered with hundreds of raised scars on his chest and arms that reminded me of the pictures I'd seen in textbooks of African bloodletting rituals. His bronze skin had lost its healthy glow, and his breaths came out in shallow wheezes.
"You're losing it, old boy," he muttered to himself. "I could almost swear I heard my child call for me."
"Dad, I'm right here," I choked out. When did I start to tear up? "Can you hear me, Dad?"
It seemed difficult for Anastasios to focus his eyes on me. "Periwinkle? How in the— You can't be here."
"Well, I am," I replied stubbornly and placed my hand on his forearm. The god winced in pain. "Gods, what have they done to you?"
"What haven't they done to me," he replied in misery.
"Hold still, I'm going to break these chains and get you out of here." I reached for my hip, but my Celestial Bronze sword was nowhere to be found. I wanted to scream in frustration. "What the hell?! What are the freaking rules to this stupid dream jumping, astral projecting—"
Anastasios had a violent coughing fit, making my words die in my throat. "It doesn't matter, love. They can do what they wish to my body, for it is this black metal you see that is keeping my soul intact."
My brows furrowed. "Your soul? I didn't even know God's had such a thing."
He gave me a wry smile. "Of course. Gaea and her giant scum can take all the blood from me that they require. But Pluto's blessing all those centuries ago still protects me from a final death, and for that I am eternally grateful."
I blinked and shook my head in shock. "Pluto's blessing? As in the god of the Underworld?"
"The very same," Anastasios nodded to the ebony shackles on his hands and feet that kept him bound to the table. "This is Stygian Iron. It was created to drain my life force under my father's orders, but Pluto secretly disobeyed Jupiter and instead it has the opposite effect on me. Not even Gaea and her giants know this."
My eyes widened. "So that's why I didn't die when I was underground. Nico's Stygian Iron sword. I knew it! But why—"
"I'm too weak for questions, child, so listen close," Anastasios stayed urgently. "The purpose of the Omega-Blood is to restore balance among the Romans and Greeks and bring peace to the world. This is why Gaea wants so desperately to kill us. She plans to use my blood to bring life to her son, Arius."
I frowned. "Ares?"
"No, her giant son Arius, the deathless."
"Oh. That doesn't sound good."
"It is very bad," Anastasios agreed. "Arius would be my counterpart, the Anti-Me. And if he were to come to life, then he would be unable to be killed."
"Shit," was all I could manage to say. "Well how do I stop him from coming to life?"
"At this point, I am unsure if it is even possible. They've taken so much of my blood... it's making me so weak. In turn, it is making you weak as well. What is most important now is that you never let them have your blood, because it is my blood that flows through you."
My head was swimming, no drowning in all of this new information that I was doing my best to absorb. What did he mean by don't let them have my blood? Could that have been why the eidolons wanted to kill me so badly? And why did Pluto go against his brother, king of the gods, just to bless Anastasios? I had a sinking feeling that the story Octavian told us about Anastasios's life wasn't actually the cookie cutter happy ending that the Sybilline Books would have us believe.
The ground above us began to tremble under the weight of enormous footsteps, and Anastasios locked eyes with me.
"They're coming," he warned. "Run, hide, child!"
"I-I love you," I whispered through teary eyes. "And you're not weak. You're the strongest man I've ever known."
And for just a moment, Anastasios's form flickered. For half a second, he smiled genuinely, and I saw a light in his eyes and a shine to his hair and a youthful glow upon his skin. For the briefest time, he was the powerful god that he was when he first visited me in my dreams so long ago in Camp Jupiter. Then just as quickly, it was gone.
"I'm no man," he said with the slightest hint of sadness.
Then the old iron door burst open, and in the doorway stood a massive figure seemingly made entirely of shadows. His eyes were black and soulless, and my blood ran ice cold when he stared back at me. And when his inky black face stretched into a grin, I screamed.
I shot up from the floor, screaming back into consciousness, covered in my own cold sweat. There was a distinct shink sound of blades slicing through the air, then panicked shouts. When my eyes adjusted to the daylight, I realized what my friends were freaking out about.
The other demigods' weapons were circling around my head rapidly and only picking up speed. I recognized Hazel's spatha, Piper's dagger, and even Jason's sword among a few others. The storm clouds above parted, and a ray of sun shined down on me. The weapons glinted proudly in the sunlight and together they spun so quickly that they took on the unmistakable appearance of a halo floating above my head. The only weapon that remained still was Nico's Stygian Iron sword that stood rooted in the floorboards of the Argo II. My friends stood back with a mixture of awe and caution on their faces. All except Leo, who looked on me with a state of concern. And strangely enough, Nico di Angelo, lurking in the shadows behind the others appeared calm. Almost knowingly so.
My powers must've responded to the stress and fear I had just experienced by trying to protect me, but I'd never seen anything like this. I took a deep, calming breath and willed the weapons to return to their respective owners. Unfortunately, I didn't think to account for their momentum, and the weaponry went flying at my friends. Hazel yelped as her spatha landed at her feet, Piper shrieked and ducked to avoid getting decapitated by her own dagger, and Jason narrowly avoided a close shave from his sword.
"I'm sorry!" I cried, feeling hot tears roll down my cheeks, burying my face in my hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
It was all too much. How was I supposed to stop Gaea? How was I supposed to prevent Shadowy Figure and the Anti-Dad from killing my father? How was I supposed to find my mother when I don't even know what she looks like? How could I do anything when I could barely control my abilities?
I barely even know myself.
And here I am, supposed to be the strongest, supposed to be the key to victory, supposed to be the harbinger of peace, crying like a baby. That's all I am is a big, stupid baby—
Warmth. Arms surrounded me, holding me, hugging me. I could hear Leo saying sweet, soft words of comfort to soothe me as he cradled me in his arms. I could feel his heart beat against me, letting me know that he's there, that I'm okay because he's there. Hazel and Piper hugged me too, saying that it was okay, they were okay, we would all be okay. And no, I didn't magically stop sobbing, but it felt so good to know one important thing.
I'm not in this alone.