Hey Guys, I'm sorry it's been so long. I've had a lot going on. This chapter was going to be longer, but I've decided to break it into two parts as the second part is taking a bit longer to get written. I'm currently working an "essential" service. It falls under financial and I've basically been working through the pandemic. Last year, I had my thyroid removed due to cancer and combine this with my 5 day 40 hour work weeks, I'm constantly fighting exhaustion TnT.
Thank you all for your patients! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)
As always, Percy Jackson is Rick Riordan's baby.
Annabeth was the first of them to recover. She scrambled to her feet and pulled her dagger on the man. Percy didn't know how much good it would do against an ancient sea god, but the blond was putting in a good effort. The god merely laughed as he backed away from Percy.
"I am not here for a fight, daughter of Athena." Nereus told her. He held his hands up as if to show he wasn't armed. "I'm merely here to talk to the sea spawn. I would have preferred somewhere more…private, but you two saw fit to cut off one of my limbs."
Percy looked at the man, he could see some of that same gold stuff that came from the octopus limb dripping down Nereus's arm. Was that supposed to be his blood? Nereus had been the octopus that had grabbed him. He had probably been the Orca as well.
It took a lot of effort, but Percy was finally able to sit up. The world around him was still a dizzying mess, but he wasn't about to lay around and let Annabeth face an angry sea god on her own. He fumbled a bit in the sand before he made it to his feet. Obviously not looking at all impressive but managing to stand was an accomplishment.
"So, are you saying that you were looking for us?" Percy questioned. Nereus hardly seemed to be paying attention as he stared mournfully at the golden blood pooling in the sand.
Annabeth had told him Nereus would put up a fight. She had told him that it would be difficult. Yet, Nereus was here, he had sought them out and got their attention, in an annoyingly painful way. Both demigods gave each other weary glances. So far, all the people who had deliberately come for them had not been good news. Though the slobby looking Nereus didn't exactly instill fear into him like Luke had.
"Count yourself lucky that I have such a merciful daughter. She asked me to help you, despite the fact you are living proof of her husband's indiscretion." Nereus looked at Percy with lazy, half-lidded eyes. Even so, the teen still felt as if the man was burning a hole in his face. "I can smell the stench of your father coming off you."
Percy didn't think Nereus had much room to talk considering the guy's pungent dead fish smell was practically making his eyes water. It still was creepy how someone could tell who he was just by his smell. Nereus gave his greasy old beard a scratch, saltwater and sand were shaken loose. Annabeth shuddered in disgust.
"You said your daughter told you to help us?" the daughter of Athena asked. "As in Poseidon's wife Amphrite?"
"Do any of my other daughters have an emotional/political connection with the spawn of Poseidon?" The god sneered and stuffed his hands into the weathered pockets of his robe. "I suppose she feels bad for the boy considering what the Great Prophecy says about him."
Annabeth remained silent. Percy saw an annoyance cross her features at the god's tone. Being talked down too never made for a conversation that ended well. On top of that, apparently whatever the "Great Prophecy" was, it said something awful was going to happen to the chosen one. If everyone around Percy was right, he was the chosen one.
He'd prefer going back to the ignored one.
Nereus let out a gruff belch and punched his chest. Both teens grimaced and tried to waft away the pungent fish breath that came over them. This had to be the least 'godly' immortal that they had met so far.
"So…." Percy began awkwardly. "You're going to tell us about Ares?"
"I could tell you many things about Ares." Nereus bit out. "He's arrogant, aggressive, powerful, and above all an absolute idiot. But I don't think that's what you need to know."
"What did he steal from Hades?" Annabeth questioned. "We won't be able to get him to restore the Underworld without returning that."
"Where can we find him?" Percy added.
Nereus chewed at his grimy fingernails and spat out what ever he managed to pull from them. Percy really, really couldn't imagine this guy was a very popular god when he did have power. He also wondered if Nereus's children were as obnoxious as him. After a long moment, the sea god finally answered them.
"When he's not wreaking havoc on you mortals, he runs his own battle arena." Nereus paused. "You might know it better as a 'fight club'."
"Fight club?" Percy repeated.
"Yes. What else is there for the moron to do?" The Sea god sighed. "Besides instigate wars and riots…"
Percy had to admit things around the world seemed rather…tense. It made sense that a god of war would want to make things that way. The more wars there are, the more power he got. Annabeth's eyebrow arched skeptically, as if she weren't fully believing what she was hearing.
"Why would Ares be disrupting the balance of the world?" She asked. "Even he knows that the world needs balance. And that he's not allowed to cause the conflicts."
"At this point, he doesn't seem to care, daughter of Athena. Not when he has it in his head that the Helm of Darkness makes him invincible."
Annabeth paled, "Helm of…. Darkness."
"Yes, the Helm of Darkness. It was stolen from Hades just before the Master Bolt was taken from Olympus. How else was your friend able to sneak in and swipe Zeus's prized possession?"
Percy didn't know what the Helm of Darkness was supposed to be. He gave Annabeth a nudge, hoping to convey that he yet again had no clue what was going on. Whatever this Helm was, it must be as dangerous as its ominous name implied.
"The helm allows the wielder to be anywhere; lurk in the shadows and cause people to go insane with fear."
The son of Poseidon doubted Hades would have to rely on the Helm of Darkness to instill fear into anyone. The nightmare he had given Percy was proof that the god of the dead was more than capable of driving people crazy all on his own. And as for the fear part, just his title alone was enough to make anyone shiver in their boots.
"Does that mean, since Ares had the helm; he could have been following us this entire time?" Percy asked. Maybe it wasn't a random choice for Ares to make a riot break out at the party. Ares was trying to send a message.
Annabeth didn't say anything, her silence was enough to make Percy stomach turn. He hated the idea that Ares could have been lurking over their shoulders, mocking them as they made their way to California. Percy couldn't help but feel that maybe Ares had been following them since their dine and dash in Arizona.
"Don't worry, I'm sure he didn't do more than watch." Nereus drew on. "Maybe stirred up some…negative emotions. In reality, he wants to fight you, Perseus Jackson, but his ego needs an audience and what better place than an arena."
"Right, his 'fight club'. "Percy nodded. "What exactly is it?"
"It's just a place where uncouth Clearsighted, Demigods, Monsters, and minor gods go to gamble drachma and get their fill of death." The sea god waved a filthy hand back and forth in front of them. Almost like he was dismissing it as nothing more than a demolition derby.
"Clearsighted?" Percy asked.
"Mortals who can see through the Mist." Annabeth answered. "Many demigods have parents who can see what's real. Mortal parents who know about the godly world."
Percy went quiet, he wondered if that meant his mom was able to see the godly world. She knew his dad was the sea god after all. What else had she not been telling him? How much more of the demigod world was she aware of? He remembered what she said in his dream. "I knew you were going to be a strong Demigod." The teen then thought about the park. That kid and his mom saw the minotaur while others thought they had killed someone.
No wonder they were wanted.
"Yes, those Clearsighted do enjoy their violence," the sea god continued. "It's better than trying to convince the rest of the mortals they are not crazy."
"They're not all like that." Percy shot back, his chest burned with indignance. His mom was the kindest person the teen had ever met.
"Yes, your mother was one of the few respectable clearsighted mortals." Nereus scoffed. "It's one of the few things my daughter found admirable about her. She worried that your mother was just one of the many airheads expected to raise a godly child. Considering the history of Poseidon's descendants, she worried you'd be another wayward misfit."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Annabeth gave his arm a tug, maybe Percy's tone didn't exactly sound respectable, or maybe she was worried that he was looking to pick a fight. Percy begrudgingly did not press further. It was clear that continuing to argue would not get him anywhere.
"So, how do we find him?" Percy huffed.
"Oh, you don't need to find him, godlings." Nereus told them, "He'll be sending someone for you. I suggest you go along with it, unless you want all of California to be plagued with riots and anarchy."
A voice at the back of Percy's mind told him that going to Ares was suicide and he'd be better off fleeing into the ocean, but he beat it back. There was more important things than just surviving and getting by in life. Even if that life was about to come to a grizzly end at the hands of a blood hungry god.
"How is he going to find us?" Annabeth asked, "How has he been following us?"
"Well ever since you killed the minotaur and that giant serpent, you've been turning quite a few heads, Godling." Nereus paused, a look of contempt wrinkling his features. "More than your parentage announcement already had. His army is surprisingly good at sniffing targets out. You probably reek with the blood of those monsters you have killed."
Percy suddenly felt gross, as if he hadn't showered in months. As if he smelled as bad as stinky Gabe.
"Besides my time, there is one more thing my daughter wanted me to bestow upon you, Jackson." Nereus said this as if he was about to pass on the key to immortality, or cut off his right hand. Instead the man reached into his soiled robe pocket and pulled out three bluish pearls. All three looked as if there was a tiny ocean thrashing inside, begging to get out of their restrictive container. "These are Poseidon's pearls, she asked me to deliver them to you. Don't ask me why, or why her and your father are both bothering with you-"
Annabeth's face skewed into a soured look, as if Nereus continuing to insult Percy was starting to tick her off. "We don't get to choose who our parents are you know."
"And parents don't always get to choose who their children marry, just take the blasted things." The god spat and dropped them into Percy's palm.
They felt cool to the touch, as if he were holding onto ice, but that ice was constantly trying to remold itself.
"What do they do?" Annabeth asked as she grabbed one of the pearls from Percy's hand.
"When thrown at the user's feet, they will be transported to the ocean." Nereus stretched his arms above his head and turned his back to the teens. "Sometimes Poseidon would give this to his children who were getting themselves in hot water so-to-speak, or he'll use them to escape boring meetings with his brother and the other Olympians. Just use them wisely. "
Percy heard a heavy diesel engine pulling up on the road behind them. It was a large, mud covered truck. Something the son of Poseidon imagined that he would see in a Zombie movie. It was rigged out with spikes, its front bumper looked like a metal beam used for construction, and the hood ornament was a very realistic human skull. It practically screamed death.
"Your ride is here; you better get going." Nereus told them and waved dismissively at the Mad Max prop that had pulled up next to them. "Ares is not a patient god. Oh…and Jackson, remember, you are only getting farther in your quest due to my daughter's generosity. I suggest you don't waste it by dying."
The old sea god gave him one last sneer before turning into a lumpy-old looking sea lion and waddling into the ocean. Percy stuffed the pearls into his pocket and glared at the monster truck idling just in front of them. Who knew what to expect? Of course, he didn't expect to see a severed arm fall out of the door when it opened. The teen instinctively grabbed onto Riptide.
A pair of legs cladded in raggedy pants followed. Percy felt his heart leap into his throat at the sight of an actual Zombie shuffling listlessly at the driver's side of the truck. The zombie was wearing a confederate soldier's uniform, it was littered with holes and covered in dirt and stains. The undead soldier seemed to sigh before reaching down to grab his severed limb. Both teens grimaced as he popped his arm back into place.
"Blasted arm." The Zombie muttered; a horsed southern accent escaped his cracking lips. "Hasn't fit right since Gettysburg."
"Did that dead guy just talk?" Percy muttered to Annabeth.
The blond looked like her mind was running a mile a minute. "He's a confederate soldier."
"And?"
"And his side lost a war, which means, he's here on Ares's order." Annabeth told him. "When you fight on the losing side of a war, you don't just die, you are forced to serve Ares."
The son of Poseidon glared skeptically at Annabeth. He knew by now the daughter of Athena was incredibly smart, but he wasn't sure he wanted to trust a decaying animated corpse. "And what if he was sent here to eat our brains?"
"I'm sure you'll be safe." Annabeth told him; the strained look on her face made him wonder if she was truly certain herself.
The zombie hobbled over to them; his atrophied legs barely seemed to carry him forward as he walked. Percy's first instinct was to pull a Negan and swing Riptide like the character's barbed bat. Though the soldier's deathly appearance slowly became a bit more sad than scary. His sunken grey eyes displayed an exhaustion only a century of servitude could yield.
"The son of Poseidon, I presume." The dead man asked, his taunt grey skin moved unnaturally stiff as he spoke. "The General would like to make your acquaintance. If the two of you youngins would kindly climb into the vehicle, yer friend is already waiting inside."
Percy felt a wave of shock hit him as a pale faced Grover rolled down the rear car window and waved meekly at them. He looked about ready to leap out of the truck, but the Zombie sitting beside him clearly meant that wasn't an option. After shooting a hesitant glance to Annabeth, Percy plucked up the resolve to climb into the truck. It was a hike, but when Percy managed to clamor inside, he instantly regretted it.
If Percy ever wondered what the inside of a coffin smelled like after years of decay. This. Was. It. Dirt and the faint smell of rot seemed to be firmly intermingled with another stench that the teen couldn't identify. The seats were covered in cherry red leather and the interior of the car was lined with retro shag carpet. Its fibers were so long that it looked like fur. Almost like the god of war had slaughtered animals specifically to upholster the inside of his car with.
Grover was trembling as Percy climbed next to him. He gave a small bleat of protest as the three of them shuffled along the back seat of the truck. The Zombie on the other side of Grover could hardly get his lanky muscles to work. Beyond the annoyed sounding groans coming from the dead man's mouth, there was also the sound of joints popping and cracking due to the movement.
"I….I'm sorry." Grover told the zombie, his teeth chittering loudly as he spoke. "C…can you scoot over a bit more?"
"Give me a minute, ya Yankee." Percy was surprised to hear familiar pitchy crack in the zombie's voice. The crack that every teenage boy dreaded.
The son of Poseidon decided not to think too much into it.
"So, you're taking us to Ares?" He nervously asked the driver, a voice at the back of his mind screamed at him for being so stupid.
He was in a truck. Driven by some hundred-year-old dead guy. On his way to fight the god of war, who probably had the ability to destroy his sanity with a snap of his fingers. Percy was beginning to think they should make a new stupidity scale, with Percy on the bottom captioned. See here, this is a Percy, someone who does incomprehensibly stupid things despite all logic.
"Yeah, boy, we're bringing you to the General." The zombie grunted, he took a shallow breath in and coughed. Percy about threw up when a small flock of moths rushed out. "Guess you could say I have butterflies in my stomach, the General trustin me to drive his most prized possession. Ye see, I ain't driven these horseless carriages too much."
Percy barely had time to fasten his seat belt before the Zombie put an exaggerated step onto the gas pedal. The tires gave a loud, pig-like squeal before they finally managed to bite into the asphalt. The trio yelped as their heads whipped back from the sudden jolt. The Zombie next to Grover hardly flinched, his face barely twitching.
"Jus don't get any of the sheriffs on our tail. We already stand out enough as it is."
"Ah, quit your nagging boy, you're worse than my wife."
"It's a miracle you remember anything considering all them worms you have in your head." The younger zombie shot back.
The driver turned and glared at the zombie in the back seat with dead gray eyes. Despite the deathly gloss, they still seemed to be trying to incinerate their target. Percy felt his whole body tighten when the truck veered too close to a semi in front of them. A quick chirp from Grover about watching the road prompted their driver to swerve, narrowly avoiding one collision and instead pushed a smaller car next to them off the road.
"We're going to die." Annabeth said with such finality in her voice that Percy couldn't contradict her.
"At least it will be quick." Grover gave a bleat and covered his eyes. His lower lip trembling as he mouthed something. Percy assumed that it was a prayer of some kind, and then the goat did a familiar gesture with his hands. Something he hadn't seen since he was twelve. It had to be one of the spells that Grover had mentioned before.
"Quit your whimpering. I can manage this infernal thing."
There was another blare of a horn and sharp jerk of the wheel following the dead man's assurance. Percy was beginning to think that the mythological world and mortal vehicles did not mix. He peeked at the speedometer only to see that it was sharply bouncing off the nub that marked the maximum speed of the car. The sight made his heart stop.
How the zombie was able to weave through traffic at that speed was a mystery.
"How much farther, captain?" One of the other dead men asked. "I don't think I can take your weaving much longer."
"Not much farther, let me make this turn."
With that the driver made a sharp left turn despite the red light and sent the four passengers in the back tumbling into one another like a row of dominos. Tangling up In each other's seatbelts and knocking heads with one another. Grover got the worst of it, landing heavily on the dead guys sitting next to him. He let out a disgusted whine and scrambled to get Percy and Annabeth's weight off his back. Percy could not blame him, the slight stench he caught was making him feel a bit queasy himself. The zombie wasn't too pleased about his predicament either.
"Get off me, ya half-wits."
There was another sharp turn and the force shifted them all to the other side. Percy mashed Annabeth into the door, but the Zombie was able to stop Grover from following his example. The teen could hear his friend stuttering thank you. Annabeth on the other hand looked like she was about to stab someone. He scrambled away quickly to avoid being that unfortunate target.
"Slow down!" The Zombie in the back seat shouted. "It's right here, turn left!"
There was one final, deafening squeal of the tires and the car came to a halt in an abandon looking parking lot. Ahead of them was a building seemed to have been condemned back when mullets were still a trend. It was covered in spray paint. Some things were written in English others were in Greek or Latin. Most things, that Percy could read right away, were talking about war and blood. Someone had even taken the time to write a poem about drinking the marrow out of human bones.
There were many more vile things written, but Percy looked away as his stomach was already churning from the car ride. For a long moment, the five of them just sat in the car. Percy could hear the engine sighing in relief as it cooled. Annabeth's hand shuddered over the door handle. She seemed to be deciding whether it would be safer in the truck with the dead guy or in the building with the blood hungry god of war. Grover was stress eating the collar of his shirt, looking as if he were about to be marched to his death.
"Listen guys," Percy began. "Ares wants me. You don't have to go in."
"I'm not going to leave you to fight a god by yourself." Annabeth shot back. "Just give me a minute to stop shaking."