Just Like Old Times
I'm sure you remember Chapter 28, right? The chapter that had a warning from the Devil himself about what the chapter was going to contain? Well, ironically enough, three years after that chapter was published I'm still getting complaints about it.
What part of "MA for nonconsenting sexual content, crimes against humanity, disturbing images, drug use, pedophilia, and intense blood and gore" is not clear? Especially with that whole warning being delivered by Satan.
Anyway, just something that struck me upon seeing a Review.
In other news, the ball is rolling on my book. Sunday School teacher had a friend, and while that friend deals in publishing books, they don't deal with my genre, but took the liberty of sending my manuscript to a buddy of theirs that does deal with my genre. Now it's just a waiting game for rejection or acceptance.
We're kicking off the Titan's Curse arc now.
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC
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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed, and produced by a single-cultural team of one religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.
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"Why are the newbies here?" Clarisse barked, jabbing the blade of her dagger at Bianca and Nico.
"Because I have allowed it," Chiron said shortly, desiring to get things back to the matter at hand. "Now, the Oracle has issued a quest, and this council has convened to determine who goes on it. Percy, the Oracle personally descended from the attic to speak to you, so this makes it your quest. Who are your four choices?"
This whole thing was a formality really.
The referred prophecy went as thus:
Five shall go west to the goddess who is trapped
In the land without rain will one be clapped
By a parent's hand one dies
The Demon Hero to rise
The young witch alone can prevail
The power of sin cannot avail
Percy had kept all of that to himself besides the first line, mainly because the ramifications and possibilities of the other lines made his stomach turn. With everyone looking at him expectantly, some pleading not to be picked, others begging to be picked, and others knowing they were going to be picked, Percy made his choices, ignoring the purple-eyed witch who was staring at him with a gleam and a smile.
"Lou Ellen, Nico, Bianca, and Thalia."
"WHAT!?"
The volume behind Zoë's thundering one-word question left just about everyone holding their ears in pain.
Zoë stood and stared furious gamma ray daggers at Percy, who stared back as calmly as he could as he tried to keep Cheyenne's tears at bay. Communicating with his eyes through a decade of knowing each other so well, married for eight of those years, Percy tried to tell Zoë that other lines of the prophecy alluded to her life ending, and he didn't want anything to happen to her. Zoë spoke right back at him, telling him she thought it was absolutely adorable that he was concerned for her, and that he was a little dummy-butt, and that this was a heinous betrayal of devotion, trust, loyalty, duty, and love.
Percy pursed his lips. I don't want you to get hurt.
Zoë crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Touching, truly, but my goddess's life is in danger.
Percy raised a brow. Are you really putting your devotion to Artemis above my love for you and concern for your wellbeing?
Zoë raised her own brow. Has it really been so long that you've forgotten that I'm more than capable of taking care of myself? I'm Mommy, remember?
Percy's eyelids dropped to a half-lidded state as he crossed his own arms. Really? You're going to be weird right now? In front of everyone?
A small, sardonic smirk crossed Zoë's face. You stabbed my back in front of everyone.
Percy splayed his hand and jutted out his chin. Because I'm trying to keep you safe!
Zoë's expression turned hard. I don't need to be kept safe.
To everyone else, all they saw was shifting facial expressions and changing postures amidst tense silence. As they watched, they were simultaneously amused and annoyed. Demigod ADHD was beginning to make patience wear thin, and Clarisse snapped first.
"Hey! Quit talking with your minds or whatever!"
Percy and Zoë both glowered at Clarisse, who displayed some uncharacteristic behavior by shrinking under the heat of the two pairs of eyes.
Bianca had a brow raised, Thalia was shuddering as memories of Peter and Ned resurfaced, and Nico was remembering all the times his father Virgil and his mother Claudia would have silent, body language-only arguments. Lou Ellen watched the two, unsure how to feel about them and their relationship that went deeper than words.
Then there was Lucy.
Whose hand was going back and forth inside her pants.
"I'm taking Lou Ellen, Nico, Bianca, and Thalia with me on this quest," Percy said. "That makes five, and this is final."
"No, it's not-"
"You four, pack your things and prepare. We leave in ten minutes."
"Hey-!"
"This meeting is adjourned," Percy said with steel in his voice, cutting Zoë off and shutting her down.
That's when Zoë realized that he had flipped a switch somewhere and had gone from channeling Cheyenne to channeling Virgil.
With a purpose to his pace, Percy left the Camp Half-Blood Room of War to gather his own gear, the four he'd chosen following and then breaking off to get their gear, and Zoë went after Percy, not at all done with this conversation. She followed him across the snow-covered grounds of Camp Half-Blood from the Big House all the way to the Poseidon cabin, where she shut the door behind her.
"What's the rest of the prophecy?" she asked calmly.
"Someone will die in a land without rain," Percy answered. "So, a desert, probably, and one will die by a parent's hand."
"My father, Atlas."
"Yes."
Zoë's head bobbed up and down, appreciating the possibility. "I also suspect my father has been freed and that Artemis now holds the sky in his place. I also suspect this to be a trap to lure at least you, and most likely Lou Ellen and your…ah, extended family. I also, also know that if I don't come, then the stipulation of death by a parent's hand could fall to anyone. Bianca and Nico could be killed by Hades, or Nico could be killed by you, since he was Giovanni and you were his father Virgil. Thalia could be killed by Zeus, you by Poseidon, or Lou Ellen by Hecate, or somehow or mortal father, and…if the Christian God calls himself your Heavenly Father…"
"I've thought of all those possibilities."
Zoë crossed her arms. "You're okay with your son being killed by your own hand, your sisters by their fathers, your girlfriend by her mother or father, and you by your own god, but not me and Atlas? Should I be touched or concerned?"
"You should be honored and relieved that you don't have to risk your life for this unnecessarily."
"My friend who is my surrogate mother and sister is in danger, and-"
"-and I am more than capable of rescuing her for you."
Percy wrapped his arms around Zoë and rested his chin in the crook of her neck. "I said I needed some time to figure out myself. The relationships of my pasts and how they're supposed to be today, and the relationships of today and how they're supposed to be."
"Then let me come with you," Zoë pleaded. "Let me help you."
"No, you're going to try putting your boobs in my mouth again."
Zoë flushed. "I-I can neither confirm nor deny that—ow!"
Percy grabbed Zoë's nipples through her parka, t-shirt, and bra, to give them both a mighty twist that sent the Hunter down to her knees, holding her flaming chest. Percy huffed.
"That's for lying to me for ten years straight about what breastfeeding actually was."
Zoë's blush got even deeper. "You always liked it and never complained."
"That's not the point!" Percy blushed almost as red as Zoë.
He cleared his throat and readopted his serious, professional air, and helped Zoë to her feet.
"I will lead this quest and we will rescue Artemis. When I get back, I'll know what we are, and I'll know what Lou Ellen and I are."
"Doesn't she wet the bed?"
"Yes."
"…you're okay with getting peed on?"
"No, but my daughter used to be a bedwetter too and she'd come running to me and her mother after a nightmare and get comfy curled on top of my chest and would often soak through her diaper. Besides, I can recall you and I getting blackout drunk and waking up with the mattress ruined."
A fond smile appeared on Zoë's face. "Good times."
The Faris and Virgil in Percy disagreed with such utter lack of decorum and professionalism, but Jake was totally on board. "Yes they were….Be safe, Zoë. I…I do love you…"
"I love you too."
After a kiss, Percy left Cabin Three, dressed in an orange camp t-shirt, black jeans, steel-toed boots covered in brown leather, and of course, the Nemean Lion pelt that now took the form of Cheyenne's black leather Prowler coat. On his right middle finger was the celestial bronze ring that turned into the gas-propelled crossbow replica of the one from Van Helsing, made by Beckendorf and given to Percy. A belt went around Percy's waist, and on this belt, at his hips, were the hollowed-out, enchanted Minotaur horns that Lou Ellen had blessed to be bottomless utility bags. At the small of his back, above his butt, Cheyenne's eight-barreled, gold-plated flintlocks rested in their holsters, enchanted to never rust, tarnish, or jam by way of Artemis at the request of Zoë, the Huntress having brought the guns with her to give them back to their owner.
Across his back, sticking over his right shoulder, was the Sword of Destiny, the amalgamation of the Sword of Baron von Wolff, the Staff of Hermes Trismegistus, and the Spear of Leonidas, shaped like the one-handed sword the Assassin Brotherhood lovingly referred to as the Sword of Altaïr. Next to the Sword of Destiny, also sticking over his right shoulder, was Shay Cormac's, then Cheyenne Cormac's, now his, air rifle, likewise enchanted like the flintlocks.
Percy was focused and ready for battle.
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The van was running and warm when Percy got up and over the hill to the main road. He was the last one to arrive, but the only to have dealt with a spouse from a previous life. The three girls whistled and clapped at Percy's appearance, and the ten-year-old Nico gave his fourteen-year-old dad a supporting thumbs-up. Percy flushed slightly, at the praise and at the fact that everyone else was far more casually dressed than he was.
He looked like he might've been going to some Renaissance Fair, but they all looked like they were regular kids about to go to the mall together. Lou Ellen was clad in the same outfit as described in Chapter 58, Kira the Husky puppy held in her arms, Bianca and Nico in the same outfits they'd been wearing since Westover Hall, though Bianca had replaced her green cap with a green bandana in the way she'd worn it back during her days as Mary Read, and Thalia was wearing her typical punk garb of black boots, black jeans, and black leather jacket with a bunch of band badges on it.
"Right. Let's go save Artemis and Annabeth."
"Will you pray for us, Father?" Nico asked.
Percy nodded, holding out his hands. Lou Ellen took his left hand, Nico took his right, and though they shared a look, Bianca took her brother's hand and Thalia took Lou's and they closed the circle, Kira splayed over Lou's shoulder.
"Our Father in Heaven, thank you for this day. Thank you for the gathering of family here. Thank you for the trials we face that will prove your power and your grace and your love for us. Please guide and protect us on this quest. Give Artemis the strength that she needs to hold on until we can get to her. Protect her and Annabeth from the wiles of the Enemy. We will face challenge and opposition on this quest, and we ask for strength, perseverance, compassion, kindness, understanding, and love between us. Let our foes be made to kneel at our feet. Forgive us, Lord, for our sins and trespasses against you, and give us the strength of character we need to forgive those who trespass against us. Above all of these things that we ask, we ask that Your Will is done. Amen."
"Amen," the other four chorused.
Kira made a warbling puppy squeak that almost sounded like the word itself.
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After they all got into the van and Percy drove away, it was Thalia that asked, a nervous tinge in her voice as she tightly gripped the arm rest, memories of Peter's carriage driving racing across her mind, "Where are we going?"
"Smithsonian," Percy answered. "I gotta feeling."
"Holy Spirit?" Nico asked excitedly.
"Sí."
"È così figo."
"How long until Zoë catches up with us?" Lou Ellen asked as she rubbed Kira's belly.
"Oh, I'd be surprised if isn't following us already."
"On foot?" Bianca asked, bewildered.
"On foot," Percy answered, smirking. "She'd very fast and has a great set of lungs."
"Perfect for cardiovascular activities," Lou Ellen said. "Like motorboating."
Since no one in the van besides her had any knowledge of the urban dictionary, the exact meaning of her vernacular was lost, but Percy picked up on the context clues. His hands tightened on the wheel as he fought down Cheyenne's urge not to be as crass and start going back and forth with Lou Ellen in a friendly game of innuendo.
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From where Camp Half-Blood was located to where the Smithsonian was located, was about a six-hour drive. For a bunch of ADHD-ridden demigods, that was tantamount to Hell itself for everyone besides Percy, who had been through Hell itself. No monsters attacked them on the road trip, either through the blessing of God, sheer luck, or so many powerful scents being the reason was dependent on who you asked. Since he was by far the oldest of the bunch, and with experience in dealing with children on extended periods of travel, Percy was able to keep everyone mostly entertained with tales of Long Island, New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore through the experiences of Jake.
This used to be here, this used to be there; these things happened here; those things happened there; etc.
It was invaluable to Nico and Bianca, being educated on the parts of American history they never got around to during their Mussolini-controlled education, and endlessly fascinating to Lou Ellen and Thalia, learning about America from the man that had helped build the powerful country.
Captain Jake Swallow, the Grandfather of America, as he was remembered and honored.
Laws had been passed in the man's name, such as the Seven Year's Law, in which all slaves that were bought at market could only be owned for seven years and then they had to be freed, lest the owner have everything taken from him and jailed for seven years himself. During that seven years of ownership, owners were required by federal law to educate their slaves in the English language—writing, reading, speaking. Schools were built for this exact purpose, so that after the seven years, the freed slave would have the educational tools necessary to make a life for themselves away from the fields, should they have chosen. After the seven years, if they wanted to stay in the employ of their master, they were allowed to do so.
A whole federal organization was created through the Constitution to uphold this law, and it went about as well as you could imagine it to have gone. Strong and sturdy for the first few years, before the rot started to settle in. Slave owners drunk on undue power and authority, crooked enforcers drunk on their own given authority, and steadily laden with heavy pockets. Officials routinely had the wrong paperwork or had documents full of errors regarding the purchasing of slaves and how long they'd been slaves, making it difficult to prove if their seven years was up.
There were protests against the Seven Year's Law, citing it as unconstitutional, a violation of the power of the people of the states to govern themselves, a violation of the founding principle of federalism, the separate but equal stations of the state and federal governments, and a violation of the separation of church and state, given that the law was taken straight out of the Books of the Old Testament in which is was ordered by God that the people of Israel, should they have buy any slaves, or anyone should sell themselves to them, would work for six years and then be freed upon the seventh year.
Counterarguments rose along the lines that Jake was an agnostic man, spiritual but finding flaws in the Bible, and saw the dangers of taking a person away from their home and just dumping them into a foreign land. The stipulation of the seven years was from his own life as a slave, in which he was a born slave, educated by a Christian master, and freed when he turned seven; the seven years was in honor of Jake's life and memory.
As the years passed and trial after trial was held, and everything eventually came to a bloody head, the motto "For Jake!" was first coined by John Brown during the events of Bleeding Kansas in retaliation against pro-slavery settlers, Democrat lawmakers, and the brutal beating of Charles Sumner by the cane of Preston Brooks.
The 54th Massachusetts Regiment, the first all-Black troop of the Union Army, took the motto "For Jake!" as their own, standing on the man's idea of educated and freed. Abolitionists like Frederick Douglas, Harriet Tubman, and others stood on the idea of educated and freed, and stood for abolition on the grounds that the laws erected in Jake's honor as a freedman were not being upheld or enforced, and therefore needed to be destroyed together, "For the good man is surely weeping," Douglas would say.
"For Jake!" would become a national motto, used by Black and White soldiers during WWI and II, rooted in Jake's idea that slaves would need to be educated in order to live in America, and then free to make their own decisions with their own lives. The meaning would be distorted and twisted over time as different men and movements interpreted it differently, with civil rights leader Malcolm X even declaring the motto to be counterintuitive to the Black Man's situation, supporting his position with the observation that Jake Swallow had been a proponent of slavery to begin with, since he'd said that slaves first needed to be educated instead of freed altogether.
Scarily enough, Adolf Hitler had been a supporter of Jake's ideals, going off the ideas that education and freedom were major factors in a person's life that shaped their future. In his infamous autobiography, Mein Kampf, Hitler had expressed sadness that he'd never got to meet the Great Captain Jake Swallow, but felt that he knew the man through all of the reading and study he'd done on him in his youth.
At the end of the Civil War, it was recorded that when General Lee sat down with General Grant, the Confederate general had said, "Jake's been crying up there," and the Union general had responded with, "He might just be smiling now."
The biggest ironside ship of the Union during the Civil War had been named Swallow, and the name was passed through US naval history through the World Wars, the Cold War, and to modern day. The USS Swallow had been anchored in Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked, and it was nothing short of miraculous that he'd been untouched.
The Swallow was the only ship in the US Navy, and in the world, to have the designation he.
That was why when the German's used he to describe their mighty Bismarck, there had been a huge push to send the Swallow after the German vessel to reestablish the ship's honor, but Congress didn't pass the motion, desiring to keep out of the War. Even so, the Swallow became the only "male" ship after Bismarck was sunk in May. Nevertheless, it was the Swallow that spearheaded the Battle of Midway, routed the powerful Yamato, and eventually destroyed not only the Japanese flagship off the coast of Okinawa, but also the Musashi, Yamato's sister, despite being smaller and less armed.
However, throughout history, the crew of the Swallow was only the best of the best of the entire American navy, each member of the crew, from janitor to the captain, was handpicked by a special council for bravery, competence, devotion, and loyalty. To be a crewman of the USS Swallow was a metal-worthy honor, right up there with the likes of the Medal of Honor, the Distinguished Service Crosses, and the Tomb Guards.
To many, Jake Swallow was an American hero up there with the likes of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, General Grant, President Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, etc., and had been featured in the comics of Marvel and DC. Joe Simon had even said it had been difficult deciding if Captain America was going to be White or Mixed like Jake, but he had decided on White and wrote Captain America to have only the deepest admiration and respect for Jake. George Lucas had said during an interview on Star Wars that a big influence for Anakin being born a slave came from Jake, and Jake had been referenced many times throughout the Indiana Jones franchise.
That was Captain Jake Swallow in this world. A man that had shaped the development of a country, and in turn, the whole planet. Laws, wars, military, government, entertainment, global leaders, and more: Jake Swallow was in there somewhere.
Even in the East, Muslim extremists burned photos and pictures of Jake Swallow along with those of George Washington and anything American.
And now, Jake Swallow was a fourteen-year-old demigod son of Poseidon on top of a 23-year-old Levantine Christian Master Assassin, a 50-year-old Renaissance Christian Assassin Mentor, Husband, and Father, and a 30-year-old French Revolution Atheist Master Assassin and Lesbian. Where Percy had just been telling the kids tales of the past of America, he had been unwittingly remembering all that he'd learned of American history when he and Lou Ellen had gone to the library and she'd helped magically upload a textbook into his brain, and he saw how Jake was revered and remembered.
Where he'd been stuck in a romantic quandary between his marriage to Zoë through Cheyenne and his courting of Lou Ellen as he was today, now Percy found himself facing a quandary he'd been ignoring: what did he do with Jake Swallow and America?
Or did he do anything with it at all?
He was an Assassin; Assassins didn't tie themselves to countries; but he was a Christian, and Christians were required to help everyone and anyone with just about everything; and he had power. By Uncle Ben's inspiring last words, those with power had a responsibility to use it, and Percy could say he was using his power. He was fighting against the rising Kronos and the Templars—
—but was it enough?
Was he doing enough, was he living up to the great responsibility that matched the great power that God had bestowed upon him?
Was that power supposed to be directed solely and squarely at the betterment of the United States, or was that far too specific and he needed to look at the whole world?
As an Assassin, the whole world, but as Jake Swallow, who saw America as his redemption, then America.
Percy shut his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, which was kinda dangerous for a driver but he'd looked around. They were fine. A hand on his knee made him look over to see Lou Ellen's reassuring smile.
"I'm here for you," she said.
"We're all here for you, Father."
Bianca and Thalia, who were Mary and Evie, voiced their agreement.
"Thank you," Percy said. "Thank you all very much."
"Are we almost to the Smithsonian?" Thalia asked. "I need to use the loo."
The resident witch whipped around in her seat, aghast. "You need to use the what?"
"The loo. L—O—O. That's what we call the toilet in Britain."
"Well, that's just dumb."
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Luckily, by the time nature called out to Thalia, they weren't even ten minutes away from the National Mall, and so the daughter of Zeus held it until she sat within the proper facilities. After she was done, she rejoined the other four outside.
"Did you light a match?" Percy casually asked.
Thalia flushed. "Is it really that bad?"
Effort was required on the parts of Lou Ellen, Bianca, and Nico to not smirk as they all messed with the punk girl. "Yes," they all answered as one.
Kira whined and put her paws over her nose.
"I-It's not like any of yours smells any better!" Thalia huffed.
"I know a spell that'll literally make it smell like roses," Lou Ellen offered.
"That's magic. That's not fair."
"Eh, life's not fair. Deal with it."
Percy decided that now was not the time to teach the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard, which was all about how life was fair in a way that most couldn't see, and instead decided to move forward with this quest.
"Lou, are you picking up anything?"
"Yeah. That one there."
She pointed at the National Air and Space Museum. That was where Percy was also sensing a concentration of divine energy. He doubted it was Artemis, but he had a fairly strong idea of who it was.
The air around Percy turned serious. Nico picked up on it instantly, recognizing the commanding presence of his father. He stood a little straighter and squared his prepubescent jaw. Bianca picked up on the change as well, remembering the time in which Jake's mirth and humor vanished and was replaced with focus and sheer determination. Lou Ellen also felt the change in Percy, and knew she was now dealing with Il Mentore. Thalia felt the air shift, and was reminded that her little brother, whom she and Jacob had viciously bullied into their little sister, was far more than just Peter, but was also Virgil Cavaliere, one of the greatest Mentor's of the Assassin Brotherhood.
"Follow my lead and be ready to fight."
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"They have arrived, my Lord," a young demigod reported to the General in a back room of the museum.
"Good. They are right on schedule. Do you have the teeth?"
Another demigod stepped forward, a cloth in his arms that was filled with large, bleached fangs. "Here, sir."
Atlas smirked an oily smirk. "These humans. Totally unaware that they were in possession of Sybaris' teeth this whole time. Give them to me."
The demigod handed over the bundle of fangs and Atlas tossed them all into a plot of dirt that had been carved out of the museum floor. With a sharp wave of his hand that created a wave of force, the soil moved in a wave that buried the teeth.
"Now. Water them," Atlas ordered.
A demigod moved forward with your standard watering can, and when she tipped the can up to start sprinkling the contents over the dirt, everything happened at once.
The shadows twisted and moved as Nico and Bianca sprang out, running monsters and demigods through with swords of Stygian iron, Nico a disproportionately sized bastard sword and Bianca a cutlass. Thalia dropped from above and took out more foes with arcs of lightning, while Lou Ellen cast a simple but powerful immobilization spell on Atlas. Percy dropped from above with his Hidden Blades out, ready to send the General to Tartarus.
Atlas broke Lou's spell with a hard grunt of effort and intercepted Percy, grabbing his leg and throwing him away before Percy could adapt and attack. Atlas conjured a javelin and slammed the butt of it into the ground at his feet, releasing a shockwave that sent Nico and Bianca flying away with shocked cries, their sword lost from their hands. Thalia let loose a battle cry, jabbing her spear forward to send out a lightning bolt. Atlas thrusted his javelin with his own shout, releasing an energy blast that obliterated the lightning and slammed into Thalia's Aegis shield, sending her hurtling backwards for a hard impact into the wall.
Blood spurted from her mouth, and Bianca and Nico hadn't gotten up yet from their positions on the floor, Atlas's attack having cracked some bones. The Titan of Strength had certainly come to play today.
Atlas turned his attention to the calmly approaching Percy, Sword of Destiny in hand and shrouded in a faint, golden miasma.
"Ah, my daughter-in-law. I see that my Zoë indeed acquired a good taste in lovers after that bumbling fool Heracles. I am Atlas, Cheyenne Nightshade. I am Zoë's father, and though two centuries too late, I do give you permission to marry my daughter."
"Thank you. Your permission has certainly resolved so many sleepless nights Zoë had regarding your approval."
"Certainly a shame that I am due to break her heart. My uncle wishes me to convert you to our side and make you a general in our army, so this is my attempt: join us, Cheyenne, and you and Zoë can have the life you desired, the life you were living. Children of your own, no Olympians to interfere, no Titans or monsters, or demigods, or mortals to bother or interrupt you."
"You do realize I'm not just Cheyenne, right?"
"I do, and I don't care about Faris, Virgil, or Jake. To me, you are Cheyenne Nightshade, my daughter-in-law."
"I'm a man."
"Genitals do not determine gender," Atlas said with a crooked smirk and a gleam in his black eyes.
Zoë's eyes.
Percy rolled his eyes with an annoyed sound. "Answer's no. Now, you can either tell me where Artemis is, or I can cut you down and just go to where she is."
Atlas shrugged, ignoring the threat. "At least I can tell Kronos I earnestly tried to convince you to join after I present your corpse to him."
Atlas lunged with supernatural speed and strength, the power of a Titan. Percy swung upward with the Sword, the hilt big enough for but a single hand. Atlas was knocked back, a wave of power released from the point of impact between his javelin and the Sword that caused Percy's coattails to flutter. Atlas brought his javelin around in a bludgeoning arc, but Percy just moved the Sword, causing the javelin to bounce off the glowing blade with another shockwave and a boom.
With a growl, Atlas poured on the speed, entering a series of stabbing attacks, dozens a second. His form blurred and became indistinct as he stabbed, and Percy became just as blurry as he didn't move an inch from his spot, but merely parried every single one of Atlas's stabs, redirecting each attack with the edges of the Sword of Destiny. The mighty Isu weapon, with all the powers of the Sword of Baron von Wolff, the Staff of Hermes Trismegistus, and the Spear of Leonidas, all bonded and bolstered by Chaos himself, gave Percy the power he needed to more than keep up with Atlas.
Finally, the son of Poseidon moved, parrying so hard he knocked the Titan off balance, and stabbed. Atlas was able to move his javelin into place, the tip of the Sword going right into the shaft of the weapon, releasing a flash of light and another loud boom. Atlas' conjured javelin, made of celestial bronze, broke, and the powerful backlash sent him flying backwards. He halted himself in midair with his powers and conjured a large xiphos to defend himself with as Percy then went on the attack.
Atlas felt sweat break across his brow as he just barely kept himself from sustaining damage under the intense barrage of thrusts and slashes by Percy's one-handed assault. Each connection of Atlas's sword and Percy's resulted in a flash of light, a minor boom, and a brief wave of minor concussive force that Atlas felt through his arms up to his shoulders and across the front of his chest and legs. Atlas didn't know what this sword was, but it was obviously trouble.
Atlas planted his foot and made a move. Percy stepped backwards, and after a short, furious exchange, their blades locked against each other on the demigod's terms.
"Fought well, you have, my esteemed father-in-law."
Atlas grit his teeth as he felt himself getting pushed backwards. "This is just the beginning."
He thrust his hand at the discarded watering can, making it explode and shower the area with a reddish black liquid, plenty of it soaking into the soil that had the buried dragon teeth. Atlas jumped backwards and vanished in a shimmer, a volley of silver arrows embedding in the wall behind the Titans just before he teleported.
Percy turned and huffed.
"Oh, please," Zoë said. "As if I was going to stay behind and let you fight my father by yourself, other demigods notwithstanding."
"You're late."
"I was letting you have a moment."
"My moment didn't involve dealing with that."
Percy gestured to the soil. Rising out of it was a septet of humanoid monsters. They had muscular skin that was such a translucent bluish grey that you could see every bone in their body. Their eye sockets were empty and they had no ears or nose or genitals, but all of them were looking right at the transmigrant spouses.
"Spartoi. Only a child of Hades can destroy them," Zoë said.
"And we have two. Darn shame they're having to wait for their bones to be healed by Lou Ellen because someone didn't time her arrival appropriately."
"You keep this sass up, young lady, and I'm scheduling you for an appointment with the paddle over my knee."
"Blah, blah, blah, sass, blah, blah, blah, paddle. Let's get out of here. California's not exactly just up the street."
The two ran off, Zoë firing an explosive arrow at the ceiling above, causing a collapse that would temporarily incapacitate the undead warriors.
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That ends this chapter. The next chapter introduces yet another complication to Percy's life of love.
How about that prophecy, eh? And how about Captain Jake Swallow, Grandfather of America? Should Percy do anything purely for the country, or is duty as the Assassin Mentor greater than just one country? Food for thought.
I'm also aware of something of a massive continuity error throughout this story prior to the Fourth Life, in that the big happening was Zoë and Cheyenne's pending marriage, only for that to actually happen, and their love end with the possibility of making a baby, instead of the big ending being they almost get married, ending their life together as just fiancés. That's my bad for forgetting that little tidbit, but I don't feel like going back and altering every chapter that mentions the nature of Cheyenne and Zoë about to get married, as opposed to about to try for a baby.
Updates are going to be sporadic for the next few weeks due to the demand of school on top of work, so bear with me, guys.
Fav, Follow, and Review please!