Hello! I am back with chapter 21!

As some of you may know, I have been slowly making my way through this story's prequel, Climbing Mt. Everest, rewriting and edits portions of it to make it more cannon to the books, not all of which were released when I wrote it. In doing so, I discovered that I messed up a little on the ages of the kids, particularly Nicky's. Logan is just under 2 and a half years older than him and in more recent chapters of this story, I'd increased that gap to 3 and a half years. I took the time today to go through earlier chapter of this and fix Nicky's age (and also Hannah's since they're the same age) to align with CME. It might not have even been noticeable, but I'm picky about these things.

The children's (correct) ages are as follows. Logan is fifteen. His birthday is late in January and therefore just passed (it's mid-February now in the story). Nicky is twelve, turning thirteen in August. Carly is eight, turning nine in March.

I've also changed the way I've been writing these last few chapters to more align with CME, as CME followed more day to day life, whereas the first few chapters of this story skipped quite a bit, though it was somewhat necessary to establish the plot a little. In any case, chapters will take place closer together now and will hopefully more resemble the formatting of CME. That is all.


"Focus," I instructed Nicky, standing beside him in the sand of the empty fireworks beach, a few short feet from the water line. It was February—just a few days after the Hydra attack on the lake—and brutally cold; an icy wind blew off the Sound and stung my cheeks. I dug my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket in response.

Nicky, however, concentrating as he was, seemed unaffected by the weather. He stood perfectly straight, facing the surf, with a look of fierce determination. His hands shifted forward the slightest bit, nearly shaking with the effort.

Smirking and making an effort not to laugh watching him, I said, "Relax, Nicky. Don't think so much, just feel the water."

In the days since the Hydra attack, there had been no more displays of newfound power from the twelve-year old, though he'd certainly been trying. Glasses, the bath tub, the kitchen sink; he'd exhausted all efforts, even going as far as trekking back out to the lake, which had yet to freeze over again, to try his hand at manipulating the water there. It was all to no avail, and he'd grown increasingly discouraged. However, Logan had struggled to manipulate freshwater at first too, and while I'd never had a problem with either, saltwater had always seemed more second nature to me too. I barely needed even to think for it to obey, and I wondered if the same went for Nicholas. Hence, our trip here today.

We'd made the drive to camp this afternoon so he could practice with his control over ocean water without risking mortals seeing. With the cold weather, the beach was deserted. There were no watching eyes to make him nervous. Even Logan had stayed home to work on an essay. It was just us.

Nicky dropped his hands to his sides and, with a sigh, looked at me. "It's not working," he said dully.

"It will. You just need practice."

"No, it won't. I can't do it."

"Nicky, you have done it."

"That was different," he protested, "I wasn't trying. I don't know what I did. I was just scared and—and mad."

"Exactly," I said, "You were scared and mad, and you managed to channel it into your power. It doesn't matter that you weren't trying."

"Whatever," he shrugged dejectedly, "I can't do it again."

"Yeah, you can."

"No, I can't! I've tried and tried, and all I get is frustrated!"

"So use it," I said, "Use your frustration."

"I don't know how…"

I sighed and took a step toward him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I turned him gently toward me and held him there, looking into his gray eyes. "Yes, you do, champ," I told him, "You just don't know it. But you did it out there on the lake. That was all you. You used the water and you saved Hannah. You probably even saved the rest of us." He looked to be considering protest. "You did," I added, "Things were looking bleak, kiddo."

"Maybe," he allowed with an unimpressed shrug, "But it's not working now."

"It will. It gets easier. You did it once, and you can do it again."

He eyed me for a long moment with his jaw set stubbornly. For a second, I feared Nicky, strong-willed as he was, might actually give in and call it quits. But the stubborn glint refused to die completely from his eyes and finally he looked out toward the water with a distinctly pre-teenage sigh. He studied the choppy waves for a minute and the glanced back at me. "What do I do, again?"

Allowing a small smile, I took a step back. "Focus on the water," I coached, "Command it. You'll feel it in your gut—hold on to it."

He gave a small, unsure nod and then turned toward the tide once more. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I watched in anticipation and, I'll admit, the slightest worry that he really might not figure it out. I knew he could do it without a doubt, but until he did too, that water wasn't going to move.

I alternated looking between my son and the waves, trying to sense even the tiniest shift in the current which might indicate Nicky's influence. For another agonizing almost-minute, absolutely nothing discernible happened and my heart sank with each passing second. But then, Nicky's hands, still and rigid at his side, clenched.

I felt the change before I saw it—little at first, but quickly growing. And an instant later, a wave larger than any we'd seen so far crashed to the shore and rushed quickly over the beach, quickly surpassing the end zone of moist sand and drenching the dry area. A mere second before it reached the place we stood, where his sneakered feet would be at the mercy of the chilly water, Nicky's eyes flew open. He took in the scene for only the tiniest instant before he flung his hands out in front of him and, looking both shocked and exhilarated, diverted the huge wave in a wide arc around the spot, leaving us atop a six-foot diameter of dry sand. "Yes!" I cried, laughing, as saltwater rushed by, "Yes, Nicky, you're doing it! You've got it!"

His jaw fell open for only a moment before his face broke out in a wide smile at his victory. His eyes shone with pride just like his mother's often did. The water now fully receded to where it had started; he examined his hands with wonder and then turned them out again, raising them over his head. The Long Island Sound mimicked the action; two fountains of water broke the surface and shot up maybe five or six feet before dropping back down once more.

He laughed in elation and entertained himself over the course of the next few minutes, creating small geysers and large waves, which soaked all of the surrounding area, but left the sand at our feet completely dry. I only had to intervene one time—his third attempt at this particular stunt—when he wasn't quick enough to divert the water and very nearly wound up with wet socks. Still unsure of the extent of his water related abilities, I stepped in with a tiny wave of a pocketed hand and sent it back the other way. Nicky couldn't necessarily will himself dry—yet—and soaked feet in this weather was a recipe for disaster.

Engrossed completely in his new talent, he didn't notice and I didn't tell him. After all this time, it had finally clicked for him. His smile meant everything to me. And, gods, was I proud.

I stood with my arms crossed over my chest and a grin I was helpless to prevent on my face. The tiniest worry crossed my mind about what had happened the last time he used his power, but he was exerting far less energy messing around like he was than he had holding the Hydra at the bottom of the lake. I was pretty sure he'd be okay.

I spotted movement from the corner of my eye and turned to find Chiron, wearing his customary tweed jacket with his white horse half bare, standing at the edge of the sand and watching the scene with a smile. He gave a nod of greeting when I caught sight of him. I glanced quickly back at Nicky. "I'll be right back," I said, and then sternly added, "Be careful."

The twelve-year old spared me the tiniest of offhand nods, but didn't otherwise react. Taking that and the fact that his hands were perfectly steady as a good sign, I smirked and turned away to make my way up the beach to the Centaur. "This is a pleasant surprise," he said when I drew near.

I gave a laugh, "Sorry," I said, "You were teaching when we got here, but I figured you wouldn't mind if I brought Nicky down."

"Of course not," Chiron answered, "You and your family are always welcome here."

I smiled. "Thanks."

The Centaur smiled and then nodded behind me at Nicholas. "This is a new development," he commented.

My grin widened. "Yeah, he finally figured it out."

"He must be pleased."

"He is," I said, "He just needed to get out of his head long enough to realize he could do it."

Chiron nodded. "The confines of a hero's own mind are sometimes the hardest obstacle he faces."

"He just needed some… motivation, I guess."

He laughed now. "So I've heard. And considering the efforts his father took for his own best friend as a child, the apple doesn't seem to have fallen very far from the tree."

I gave a laugh of my own. "No, I guess it didn't."

"How is Nick's Roman friend doing?"

I sighed. "I think she's okay. The scars are pretty obvious on her neck, but she got lucky."

"From what I understand, she was in good hands."

I shrugged and looked away. "I guess. I wish she hadn't gotten hurt at all though. Especially on my watch."

"I should think you know even better than most just how unavoidable these things can be," Chiron said, his voice gentle but paternal, "This next generation of heroes has been blessed with the benefits of the sacrifices of yours, but Hannah is a half-blood as much as you are, and she will have to make her way in this life just as all others have. You should not feel guilty over the inevitable."

"Yeah… I know."

The Centaur gave a wry smile. "I see that fatal flaw of yours is as active as ever."

I exhaled in a laugh. "I guess I'm still working on it."

"As you shall for the rest of your life. That's the nature of them."

"They keep us humble, I guess."

"In the case of the best, yes, they do." I smiled and glanced down, suddenly embarrassed. When I glanced back again, Chiron's eyes were again on Nicky, still bending the Sound's currents to his will. The activities director wore a contented smile once more. "I have to admit," he said, "I do enjoy having the opportunity to regularly teach the children of my former campers. It was such a rare thing for earlier generations of half-bloods to survive long enough to allow it." He cast a quick glance my way, his smile widening a bit, "I'm not supposed to have favorites, Percy, but if I did, I think its safe to say your boys would be among them. Carly too, I'm sure, when the time comes."

I smirked. "Thanks, Chiron."

"It does fascinate me," he continued, still watching my son, whose movements had grown slightly sluggish but showed no sign of stopping yet, intently, "how powerful Logan and now Nicholas have turned out to be. Legacies generally inherit very little, if any, of their parents' gifts, but clearly that is not the case with them. Their water abilities are not at the same levels as yours, even when you were first learning, but they are both easily as powerful as any younger half-blood sibling of yours." He glanced at me now, "In any case, you should be proud."

"Oh, I am," I replied, smiling.

"How is Annabeth?" he asked now.

"She's good," I answered, "She's home helping Logan with his essay on western expansion."

"Ah." He smiled and studied me for a few seconds before looking back at Nicky and going on. I watched with him and listened as he spoke. "I've always been glad you have each other. You've both suffered more than most heroes I've known, and you deserve the best life has to offer. You've built a beautiful family and I'm proud of everything you've accomplished together."

Halfway through this sentiment, I looked over and stared up at Chiron. He'd hinted at as much before, but had never said so in as many words. "Thank you," I said now, touched.

Chiron looked over and smiled. "You're welcome. Tell her hello."

"I will."

As we watched, Nicky's antics with the water slowed and then vanished. His hands stilled at his sides again and he took a step back, out of the reach of the tide, and sat down on the dry sand. "Looks like someone's all tired out," noted the Centaur.

I smirked. "Honestly, I'm kind of surprised he made it as long as he did." He smiled with glint in his eye that made me think he wasn't surprised at all. "I should probably get him home," I continued, "Annabeth said she was serving dinner at six-thirty, whether we were back or not." Chiron laughed.

"Yes, go," he said, "I should make sure everything is in order for dinner here tonight myself." He smiled. "Have a good night, Percy."

"Thanks, Chiron. You too."

"Thank you."

With a last exchanged smile, we parted ways; the Centaur turning away from the beach while I made my way back across the sand to where Nicky sat, his legs bent up in front of him, elbows resting on knees.

His breathing was slightly quicker then normal as I drew near him, but when he caught sight of me, he smiled widely. "That was so awesome," he said, gray eyes glinting with excitement.

"Yeah, it was," I agreed with matching enthusiasm, "I told you you could do it." I crouched down beside him.

"You were right about thinking too much," he admitted, "I was making it way harder than it is."

"I know," I laughed,

Nicky laughed too. "It's really tiring," he added now.

"I know," I said again, still smirking. I straightened and reached into my pocket, produced the Ambrosia I'd brought for this very reason, and handed it back to him. "It get's easier. You just have to practice." He nodded, chewing the godly food and watching the waves crash to the shore a few feet in front of us. He instantly perked up. "What do you think?" I asked after a moment, "Should we get out of here?"

He looked at me. "I can't go again?" Apparently he'd been ready to go another round.

"I think you've had enough for one night, champ. You'll wear yourself out." He looked slightly disappointed at this reasoning. "Your powers aren't going anywhere, Nick," I added, "And neither is the ocean."

Nicky breathed a sigh. "Okay," he agreed.

I smirked. "Come on. You'll have lots of time to practice."

He moved to stand slightly reluctantly. Another heavy gust of wind blew across the beach and he wrapped his arms tightly around himself. "Yeah, okay, let's go," he decided then, shivering slightly.

I laughed. "You didn't seem fazed by the cold before."

"I wasn't paying attention," he admitted and grinned.

Still chuckling, I started walking. Nicky kept pace beside me. We'd left the sand and now walked on the frozen grass leading toward Half-Blood Hill when he spoke up again. "Thanks for taking me here, Dad. And… for helping me.

I smiled beside him. "You're welcome." Like I would do anything else.


Thanks for reading!