Prized Possession
6: Out of Control
"It is only if the murderer is a good man that he can be regarded as monstrous." - Graham Greene
There were six of them on Peleus' back, including Percy and Annabeth. At the dragon's shoulders, he could see Will and Nico, and just behind him were Clarisse and, to his surprise, Jake Mason – who had an arrow sticking out of his leg. They needed to get down so he could be bandaged quickly.
Nico turned to face them, and shouted something. His voice was swept away by the wind, so he shouted it again. Percy could make out a couple of words. "Where… go…"
He grimaced up at Nico to try and convey confusion. It must have worked, as the younger demigod shuffled back past Will to get closer.
"Where are we going?" asked Nico. "You know the city better than any of us. Do we risk it, or try and go further off?"
"We should land in Central Park," said Percy. "It's big enough that we should be mostly safe."
"You want to land a dragon in the middle of the biggest and most famous open space in New York? A city that the titans just took control of?" asked Nico, incredulous.
Percy could only nod. "Yeah. Jake needs treatment, and it's pretty close to my Mom's as well."
"Percy..."
"What?"
Nico shook his head. "I just don't think we should be around our loved ones too much at the moment. Kronos will be looking for any weakness, and we don't want to lead him straight to our families."
"Right, so we should warn them."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Alright," grunted Percy. "I'll think about it."
"We haven't got time."
"I'll think about it, alright? We're going that direction anyway. I can't just leave Mom and Paul in the middle of a city full of monsters without even trying to talk to them."
"You could just be putting them in more danger, Percy."
"Or I could be leaving them to die!"
Nico recoiled as though struck.
Percy's left hand was steadying himself on Peleus but he ran a frustrated and regretful right through his hair. The wind pinned it down and ensured he made little difference. "I'm sorry, it's just – look, if there's anything happened to them, I couldn't – if it was Bianca down there then you'd be just as desperate to get to her as I am."
Nico's look darkened. "Don't bring her into this, Percy."
"But it's family. You can't just leave them to die when you can do something about it; anything at all. You should know that."
"Like you did something for her?"
Percy made a bad decision. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know. I wasn't there, I don't know what happened. I couldn't have done anything. Could you?"
Percy curled his free hand into a fist, only to relax again as he felt a hand come to rest on it. He looked back into Annabeth's eyes, a lighter shade of grey than the darkening skies around them.
"Not here," she said, looking at both of them. "Not now."
Percy nodded slowly at her. Nico moved back up past Will to watch their route.
Annabeth rested her chin on Percy's shoulder to try and speak quietly to him. "You know, he has a point."
"Don't," he said, cutting off whatever she was going to say next. "I know it's dangerous. I know it's stupid. But I can't live with myself if I leave and something happens. You've got to understand that. Please."
She nodded, slowly. "Just quickly. To make sure they're okay. To warn them."
"Right. Just quickly."
They made the rest of the trip silently, and no-one argued when they Peleus settled down in amongst the trees in Central Park, even if Nico did look like he wanted to murder someone. Probably Percy. Come to mention it, no-one looked exactly comfortable staying in the newly conquered titan city.
"Stay," Percy told Peleus. Then he looked at the others. "Maybe you four stay here and lay low," he said. "Me and Annabeth will stop by my Mom's and be back as soon as possible."
None of them seemed too upset with that proposal, so Percy and Annabeth set off at a slow jog towards the Jackson-Blofis residence. Percy hoped to the gods above that they were there, otherwise he wasn't certain what he'd do. Then again, they couldn't even be certain that the gods were still up above, could they?
The city was undeniably changed by the events of the battle that took place there only days before. There were fewer people on the streets than normal, and a heavy atmosphere of dread hung in the spaces not occupied by skyscrapers and office blocks. On the other hand, there was no obvious monstrous presence. No-one tried to stop them, and the mortals seemed unaware of what was happening. There was just a feeling of unease pervading every street.
The apartment block where he lived with Sally and Paul was in a nice, fairly central location, and, he suspected, funded almost totally by the petrification of Smelly Gabe three years ago. It didn't take long to get to, and within a few minutes, he was knocking at the door of the apartment. He stood there, waiting for the door to open.
He counted thirty seconds before ringing it again. Annabeth squeezed his other hand, not commenting on the sweat he could practically feel dripping off it.
Another few seconds ticked by. His eyes flicked over to Annabeth, who shrugged helplessly.
"They could be -" she started.
She did not get to finish, however, as the door swung open, to reveal Sally Jackson. Sally didn't move except a slight tremble from the shock of seeing her son there.
"Percy?" she asked, voice cracking.
Then, suddenly, Percy was enveloped in a warm, reassuring hug.
"Hi, Mom," he said.
"We thought you were dead," she said.
"So did I for a while. I'm not though. So… that's good, I guess."
Sally pulled away and looked at him with concern. "What's wrong?" she asked.
Percy should have realised she'd know immediately.
"Shall we go in?" he said. "It's kinda complicated."
His Mom nodded and led them into the living room. He made sure to lock the front door behind them.
"Percy?"
"Hey Paul. Good to see you're okay."
"You too," said Paul, trying and failing to hide his shock. "Er, you are okay, aren't you?"
Percy shrugged and grimaced in what he hoped was a jovial fashion. "Alright, I guess."
Paul composed himself, and his statement that "That's good" came from behind a masked expression, mostly, Percy was sure, hiding his stepfather's confusion and worry.
"Paul, why don't you go and make us some tea?" said Sally. "You should be able to hear the conversation from the kitchen. Gods, but you two look like you need it."
They sat on the sofas in the living room, Sally positioned opposite the two demigods.
"So, we lost," began Percy. He didn't know where else he could begin. "We – I – might have doomed western civilisation. That's er, bad, obviously. Um."
He looked into his mother's eyes. They shone full of worry and concern and Percy wanted so badly to be able to tell her he had it under control, even if it was a total lie. He gave her the best story that he had.
"Kronos might not have properly won, though, so we need to keep fighting to try and stop him. Chiron said he reckoned we could keep the gods alive through worship and sacrifices and things until we find a way to either restore them properly or to defeat the titans. So we'll do that. But it's not safe for you here anymore. I'm sorry. They have New York now, and they know you're here. If they have time to sort themselves out, you two will be some of the first they go for. Because of me." He stopped speaking, uncertain of what else to say.
"Do you two have anywhere else that you can go?" asked Annabeth. "Anywhere out of state?"
Sally considered for a moment. "Paul has a brother in Maine. I think his parents live in Indiana. There's a cousin in Texas, too."
"It's probably best if you stay with the cousin in Texas for a bit, or maybe his parents if you can't get that far. Maine's probably too close to here. You want to get as far away as possible." Annabeth spoke gently. Percy realised that her being here was one of the few small mercies that the apocalypse had granted him.
Sally nodded. "We'll get packing right away."
"Thank you," said Percy.
There was a pregnant silence, each of them waiting for one of the others to say something.
"Sally, is it alright if I use your toilet?" asked Annabeth.
"Yes dear – just on the left down there."
Thank all the gods for Annabeth, thought Percy. As soon as she was out of sight, he said "I don't think I can do this. There are so many of them. We had our chance and we blew it."
His Mom moved couches, sitting next to him and wrapping him in a warm, gentle hug. "Yes you can," she said. "You've done so much, Percy. You're so strong, so brave. You've come through so much, and sometimes when I look at you, you've come so far that I have to wonder when you did all this growing up. You can do it, because you're the greatest hero I know."
He rested his head on her shoulder. "I love you," she said. He wondered if he'd ever get a hug from her again.
And when Annabeth came back, it was time to go.
The skyscrapers and tower blocks on either side of every street formed oppressive walls that felt as though they were closing in. When Percy and Annabeth finally reached Central Park, the air in the open space felt clearer and sweeter than any they had ever breathed before.
Neither of them could see any problems, but they had an uneasy sense of eyes watching them from every angle. Percy sped up, then broke into a run, eager to leave New York as soon as possible.
Nico and Clarisse were standing guard, wandering in a wide perimeter around Peleus. Will was kneeling next to Jake, whose leg was now thankfully arrow-free, splinted, and freshly bandaged with a strip of shirt. All four noticed Percy and Annabeth as soon as they came through the treeline.
"Get on!" shouted Percy, waving at them. "Move!"
They sprang into motion, perhaps assuming that there were enemies in pursuit, rather than a simple, overwhelming sense of dread.
Percy had one foot on the dragon's leg when that dread was justified.
Thunder rumbled across the sky. Flashes of lightning in the distance contrasted sharply with the afternoon sun. Then, all the screens and walls of the city began showing an image: Luke's face, with Kronos' golden eyes glaring out from its brow.
Then he spoke.
"Mortals," he said. The voice was deep and smooth, a voice belonging to a far older man than the one whose body they could see. It was hard to believe a voice like that had fought a battle for Manhattan only a few days ago. "You are a faithless people. You no longer believe in that which you cannot see. This is a mistake. There is a whole world concealed just beyond your sight. Fortunately for you, I am here to reveal it to you."
Kronos smiled a chilling smile with Luke's mouth, and placed a hand over his heart. "My name is Kronos, and I am your new king," he said. "You may recognise my name. You all know the ancient stories of Greece and Rome, the tales of Troy and of Heracles. I am here to tell you that these stories are true. You live in a world of gods and monsters, where none may walk without fear of divine wrath."
He leaned in close to the camera, leering out at his audience. "I am here not for my own sake, but to protect you from the anger of these petty gods. It is for this reason that I must warn you of the boy Percy Jackson." He paused for a moment, perhaps to let the audience register the name properly. "If the name is unfamiliar as I'm sure it is to most of you, his identity can be summed up in a short sentence." Another pause, this time, Percy was sure, it was just for dramatic effect. The sentence itself was delivered as slowly as possible: "Percy Jackson is the most dangerous person in the world."
Percy moved. He climbed up onto Peleus' back, swinging his leg over the dragon's spiny hide. "Go," he said, urging the dragon upwards.
"It is for this reason," said Kronos, a picture of Percy appearing on the screen behind him, "That I am offering one million of your American dollars to anyone who brings me Jackson's head.
Rapidly shrinking figures rushed into the clearing below them as Peleus's wings pulled them higher. They pointed and shouted up at the fleeing demigods.
"It is for this reason also," said Kronos, "That to anyone who brings me the boy alive, I am offering one billion American dollars."
Jake, at the dragon's head, guided Peleus south-west, gradually leaving New York City behind,
and leaving Kronos' voice behind too, as he offered a reward for information leading to Percy's capture. The city's rooftops glinted gently in the afternoon sun. More worryingly, there were people gathering in the streets below. Some would be watching Kronos' message. If he had already found a way to dismantle the mist – likely, with Hecate on his side – then they might be pointing up at the dragon and wondering if they were about to come under attack.
"We need to land for food," said Will. "We haven't eaten since this morning, and I, for one, could do with remedying that."
Well, Percy couldn't say no to that. He called up to Jake that they should stop if they saw anywhere obvious to eat.
They glided along for a while, propelled only by the occasional lazy flap of Peleus' wings. Gradually, the huge tower blocks thinned out, replaced by buildings with only a few storeys: houses and garages rather than offices and apartments.
Before long, there were more trees, too, and the urban landscape spread out into a wide expanse of green.
Jake guided Peleus down into a clearing, where the dragon landed with a thump, flattening a couple of saplings which had been foolish enough to be growing there.
After dismounting, Percy took a moment to appreciate the warm remnants of the sun and the still air. He closed his eyes and basked.
"So the mortals are after us as well, now?"
He opened his eyes. It was Nico, of course, arms folded and a deeply unimpressed expression on his face.
"Seems so," said Percy, unwilling to be drawn into an argument.
"We can fight them off too," said Clarisse.
"Yeah, there's only seven billion of them," said Nico.
"I don't think the mortals are our biggest problem," said Annabeth. "They can be reasoned with, at least. Most of the titans can't."
"A billion dollars might make reasoning difficult," said Nico.
"Well, what's the plan then?" That was Jake, to Percy's surprise. Everyone looked at him, lying there against the dragon's leg.
Jake, clearly feeling all eyes upon him, blushed slightly at the sudden attention, but asked again, "What's the plan? We've got to do something, right? Do we go straight after the titans to try and level things up, or do we hide and wait for things to cool down, and whichever we do, where do we do it? We kinda need to decide. Hiding's only gonna get harder, and the titans are only gonna get stronger."
"It's true time isn't our friend," said Annabeth. "Er, excuse the pun. But we don't know where we'd be attacking or retreating."
Percy took charge. "I'm starving, and I imagine most of you are a bit hungry. I can see some golden arches through the trees over there, so I say we attack that Maccies, and plan our next move from there. We'll think better on a full stomach."
"And if they attack us? If Kronos' message has been broadcast across the whole country?" asked Nico.
"Then we leave again, and find somewhere else. But we can't just cut off all contact with the mortals because they might be a threat. With camp lost, I don't know where else we'll get food, or… anything, really."
"What about Peleus?" asked Clarisse.
"We can't bring him to McDonald's, if that's what you're asking," said Nico.
"No, idiot. I mean long term. We can't wander around with a dragon. People would notice."
"He's a bit too helpful to just abandon," said Will.
"We can leave him here for now," said Annabeth. "And once we've decided what we're doing, we'll either set him off alone, or keep him with us."
"Great," said Percy, "a working lunch." He brought out Riptide and lopped off a suitable looking tree branch, giving it to Jake to use as a crutch. He looked at the others. "Let's go."
As it turned out, they were only a hundred metres or so away from the edge of the woodline, and McDonald's was only just across the road from there. They filed in, not making eye contact with anyone else inside. It was a small outlet, but crowded, with a good thirty or so people inside. A TV in the corner was showing the news. There didn't seem to be anything about gods and demigods on there yet.
Will and Nico went to order. The others huddled around their small table and debated their next move in hushed tones.
"Obviously we want to attack," said Clarisse.
"Do we?" asked Percy.
"Yes, Prissy, we do. The more we wait, the stronger they get. I enjoy a challenge, but I'm not suicidal, so I say we attack soon."
"But where?" asked Jake. "We don't know anything about their army. New York looked more or less empty, and Othrys is across the country. Can we get all the way there without them noticing? And once we'd arrived, could we beat them?"
"We wouldn't have to beat them in a straight fight," mused Annabeth. "We could use guerilla tactics – launch raids and try and assassinate their leaders. But I don't know how we'd get there. Peleus is our biggest asset, and the only way to get there quickly, but he's too big. We'd be noticed. You all saw how in New York people were on the streets trying to catch a glimpse of him. It would be the same everywhere we went."
"Could we go by train or something?" asked Percy. "Or maybe even now, Zeus wouldn't blow me up for flying."
"Kronos would," said Annabeth. "You're a wanted fugitive, remember? You'd never get through the pre-flight checks, and I wouldn't fancy our chances at a train station, either. We'd have to go by foot or car, if we can get one."
"And say goodbye to a quick attack," said Clarisse. "They'd have shored up by the time we showed up, and be ready for a long war."
"What about hiding?" said Will, arriving back with Nico and six Happy Meals. "Couldn't we just wait until we know their plans, and can make one of our own?"
"Could be too late by then," said Clarisse. "They're not just going to tell us their plans."
"Guys," hissed Jake. "Look."
They looked, and life got a little bit harder.
The news on the TV in the corner had caught up with events in New York. "Across the north-east of America," the anchor was saying, "People were shocked this afternoon, as what was apparently every electric device in the region was commandeered by a man who claimed that the Greek myths were real, and that he was Kronos, the Greek titan of time."
The picture switched to a reporter on location in New York. "Well, Susie, a time lord might seem like something out of 'Doctor Who', but now we're being told that things we took for fiction for two thousand years are actually true. Now, a lot of people's first reaction might be to say that it's just a prank, but authorities are saying there is no evidence that a cyber attack has been carried out. Now, that suggests two answers: either there are people who can carry out a cyber attack of this magnitude without leaving a trace; or this man really is the titan Kronos. From where I stand, especially coming less than a week after the suspected terrorist attack on the Empire State Building, both are pretty terrifying, and upset our view of the world as we know it."
"Thank you, Chris," said the anchor. A picture of Percy appeared onscreen. "Now, one of the biggest questions we have about this event is the identity of Percy Jackson, the boy named by Kronos as 'the most dangerous person in the world'."
"Crap," said Clarisse.
"Well, we've done some digging, and it seems that Jackson is a teenager from New York, who has been in the news before, as he was abducted and taken across the country by a crazed kidnapper when he was twelve. It's not clear if the events are connected, or why this man wants him so badly, but..."
"We can't stay," said Percy. "Let's go."
"Give it five minutes," said Annabeth. "Look, everyone's watching the TV."
"So?"
"So when you see people leaving in the middle of the biggest news in history, you start to wonder why they aren't paying attention. We should wait until the bulletin finishes, then go."
"Okay, and what are we doing when we do go? We can't stay," said Nico.
"If I go, there will be trouble," said Will. "If I stay there will be double."
"What?" asked Clarisse.
He shook his head. "Nothing," he said.
"It doesn't matter if they know where we are as long as they don't know what we're doing," said Annabeth. "Is there anything we can do that they wouldn't expect, or that they wouldn't understand?"
There was silence, apart from the sound of Nico eating.
Then, "What about if we just go a stupid route?" asked Percy.
"Then it would be stupid," said Clarisse.
"How do you mean?" asked Annabeth.
"If we go straight to Othrys, it's kinda obvious, isn't it? They'd know what we were doing by the mid-west or so. But if we went north first, for instance..."
"They'd still notice as soon as we turned south," said Annabeth. "We couldn't get close."
"We could only get as far as Idaho on Peleus," said Percy. "Maybe Washington, or even Oregon, if we're quick. That's where we could let him go, maybe into Canada. He'd probably be safe there. But we could go south without them noticing, then. It's the quickest way for us to get there safely that I can think of, and if we're lucky, when we arrive they'd expect us to be in Alaska or somewhere. We only lose a day or two, in that time. And then we do what we can from there."
The sound of Nico chewing returned as the group considered this option. Eventually, it was the son of Hades who broke the silence.
"Seems like the best option we've got at the moment, anyway," he said.
Percy supposed this was a peace offering, of a kind. They could do without being at each other's throats while the future of the world depended on it. He nodded his thanks to Nico.
When the news was over, they went north.
"I'm hungry," Percy called back to the others. "Let's stop for some food!"
It was the second day after they left camp. They had eaten in Pennsylvania, Wisconsin and Montana the previous day, and Percy was looking forward to finding out how the fast food in Idaho – or possibly Washington now, as they came down from the Rockies – was different from the same food in different states.
Unfortunately, Annabeth shook her head. "We've got no money."
"What?!"
"We've got no money!"
"No, I mean, how?"
"We left camp in the middle of an attack, Percy. None of us were really thinking of funds for the future Everything we had went on McDonald's yesterday."
He frowned. "Do we need to steal, then?"
"Probably. But Peleus needs to eat too. I've an idea. Stop a little way before the city – try that field, there."
"With the cows in it?"
"The one next to it."
They touched down, and once the group had dismounted, Peleus looked hungrily over the hedge, where the cattle were keeping well to the other side of the field.
"No, boy," said Percy.
"He won't have to wait too long," said Annabeth.
"What?"
"We're having beef. Will, can you shoot a couple of cows for us?"
Will nodded, moving over to the hedgerow with his bow out and an arrow nocked. He drew the string back, aimed – and paused. He stayed there for a good few seconds, like a statue. Then he loosed the shaft, drew another, and fired again. There were gristly thuds as they made contact with their targets, catching each cow in the eye. One let out a half-hearted moo as it slumped to the ground.
They moved into the next field and dragged the corpses back. Jake set up a spit for them as Clarisse skinned one.
"Percy, is there any water nearby?" asked Annabeth.
"Some in the trough over there. Not good for drinking, if you're wondering."
"Just be ready to put out any fires."
"What?"
She smiled at him. "You heard me."
The skinned cow was set up on the spit, and they backed away, as Annabeth ordered Peleus, "Fire!"
The dragon let loose a burst of the stuff, cooking the unfortunate animal through. Percy doused the flames catching in the grass.
They dragged the other cow over to Peleus who roasted that one too, with Percy again acting as damage control. "Good boy!" praised Annabeth. Percy wasn't sure if that was aimed at him or the dragon.
The cow, once Clarisse had carved away the burnt bits, was admittedly delicious. Peleus seemed to agree, as he ate his in only a few mouthfuls. He got half of the second cow too, once the demigods had eaten their share. He purred as he lay down after his meal.
"You know, I'll miss him when we have to let him go," said Jake.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow.
"Really?" asked Nico.
"Really. I mean he's a bit of home, isn't he? Wherever Peleus is, there's a bit of Camp Half-Blood."
Annabeth's eyebrow rose a fraction higher, and was joined by its peer.
"And he's got personality, too."
Annabeth opened her mouth to respond to that, but he cut her off.
"I mean, sure, it's a personality that revolves mostly around eating and sleeping all day and occasionally setting fire to things, but he's got a real… zest for life."
"Zest for life," repeated Annabeth.
"No, I agree," said Percy.
"Not you too."
"You get the feeling that he's really into it. And sometimes he can be excitable, and sometimes he can be a bit down, and sometimes, like now, he can just be kinda satisfied with everything. Look at him and tell me that's not a happy dragon. Don't you think?"
Annabeth smiled and shook her head in bemusement. "What I think is that you're a seaweed brain and that you," she said to Jake, "have had your brain fried by the forge. I'll miss him too, though." She took a breath and spoke again. "We need to send him into Canada."
No one responded to that.
"We should do it sooner rather than later. I still get the feeling we're being watched, and if we stick around too long here, they might suspect something. We should get Peleus into the air and going towards Canada with as much fuss as possible, in sight of the city, and then set off south ourselves."
"Party trick time, then," said Jake. He picked up a lump of beef and threw it high into the air. "Peleus, catch."
The dragon let loose a huge burst of flame, roasting the meat through and illuminating the mountains behind them and hillside around them. He caught the fragment in his massive jaws, and swallowed it without chewing.
"Okay, boy," said Percy. "Can you set off to Canada for us. Hopefully we'll see you again soon. And thank you."
Peleus looked at him reproachfully.
"Peleus, Canada!" said Jake.
The dragon launched itself into the sky and sped north, the air vibrating with the beating of his wings.
"How come he listens to you?" asked Percy.
"He must love me more than you," joked Jake.
Percy didn't get the chance to respond to that, as it turned out that their arrival had already been noticed by at least one person.
"Hands up," came a voice, with a thick Washington accent. They turned to look at the speaker: a short, stocky, grey-haired farmer, a small pistol in his hand aimed straight at them.
Slowly, hesitantly, they all lifted their hands. "Don't move. 911 are on their way. Property damage and theft, I'd say," he said, gesturing at the charred grass and what remained of the cows.
Unfortunately for him, the demigods couldn't afford to let themselves get taken to jail. Percy concentrated on the water, sending it swirling up hill in a little stream, before flying down into the farmer's back, wrenching his gun up and knocking him down. Clarisse picked up the pistol as Percy addressed the prone figure below him: "Stay out of our way," he said.
"We should kill him," said Clarisse.
"What!?" asked Will.
"So he can't give us away," realised Annabeth.
"Yup," said Clarisse.
"We can't just kill him," said Percy.
"We might need to," said Nico. "If we leave him, and he tells the police, it'll reach Kronos pretty quickly. He'll probably realise what we're doing."
"Doesn't mean we kill him," said Jake. "There must be some other way."
"I can't think of any that work," said Nico.
"Give me the gun," said Percy.
"Percy..." said Annabeth.
"Give. Me. The. Gun."
Clarisse handed it over, slowly, reluctantly. Percy pointed it at the farmer, who was looking up at him in horror.
"Listen," said Percy. "You're going to go home. You're going to tell the cops that it was a false alarm, or that we ran off. We're going to be sticking around for a while, and if anyone finds out about us, we'll know it was you, and we will come after you, and we really will kill you. Understand?"
The man nodded hurriedly.
"Everyone okay with that?" asked Percy. He could see that no-one was happy with it, but none of them had strong enough objections that they'd fight him over it here and now.
"Go," said Percy. The farmer fled, and he stuffed the gun into his pocket.
Once they'd set off towards the city, Annabeth pulled him to the side, away from the others. "Percy, are you okay?" she asked quietly.
He let out a hollow laugh. "Our home has been burned to the ground. Our friends are dead, or prisoners, or on the run, and we're on a suicide mission to the titan headquarters. But no, nothing's wrong. It's just that threatening to kill old people for getting in our way gets me down sometimes. I wouldn't worry about it," he said, before turning away and walking on.
The city – Spokane, it turned out – had an unwelcoming atmosphere. Its street corners seemed to be overflowing with people who stood and watched as the demigods walked past. People who could at any moment recognise Percy's head as being worth a million dollars. The word loiter might have applied, except it wasn't nearly threatening enough.
They moved uncomfortably through the streets, looking for a place to stop.
Annabeth seemed uncomfortably quiet, and Percy wasn't in the mood to interact with anyone, so it was Clarisse and Nico leading them along the pavements and across the roads. Jake, leaning on Will, brought up the rear. With the help of nectar and ambrosia, he could now walk unaided, but Will said it was best not to risk it.
The sun drooped, hiding behind the taller buildings and edging ever closer to the ground of the horizon.
The shadows stretched along the floor, and the alleys only twisted more as the day went on. They were no closer to finding a place to stay.
They went down a new street, one they hadn't explored before. Towards the end, it darkened, narrowed, and twisted, before revealing four men with guns and baseball bats standing in the way of the exit. They moved into the centre of the street, blocking the demigods' way out.
Clarisse swore quietly as she saw them. Percy turned around and saw their escape route cut off by another group.
There were eight altogether, but none of them looked like they might be monsters in disguise. A couple of the older men looked like they might be military veterans.
"You're the kids off the TV," said one.
"You've got us mixed up with someone else," said Percy, pushing past Clarisse's clenching fist. "We don't want any trouble."
"No trouble?" said another. He pointed slowly at Nico. "Two hundred thousand dollars, dead or alive," he said. Then he pointed at Annabeth. "Five hundred thousand dollars dead," he said, "or one million alive. Then he pointed at Percy. "One million dead. One billion alive." He smirked. "One billion," he repeated. "You've got trouble as long as you've still got heads."
They raised their weapons.
"Don't fight," he said. "We'll take you dead if we have to. Maybe we'll even get paid extra for collecting spares, huh?"
Unfortunately, he had failed to take into account the fact that there was a fountain in the square behind him. With a flick of his wrists, Percy brought the water streaming towards them, knocking the mortals to the ground all at once.
"Run!" he shouted to the others, who didn't hesitate to obey.
Clarisse picked Jake up while Will and Nico scouted ahead and Percy and Annabeth stayed behind to fend off the mortals.
They were only halfway back down the street – but out of sight of the mortals, thanks to its twists and turns – when a door swung open at the side and a man leaned out. "Over here," he said. "Quickly!"
The half-bloods didn't have time to consider their options for long. They dashed through the door, which slammed behind them, leaving them crammed into a small, dusty room with a naked but dim bulb hanging from its ceiling.
Their rescuer was middle-aged, with hair that was busy making up its mind whether to go grey or simply fall out altogether. He wore white, and looked as though he might break if pushed over. He drew the bolt across the door and turned to face them.
"You'd better come on in," he said.
They followed him through the door, and found themselves in a large hall with walls lined by glass cases, full of artefacts from every period of history.
"Welcome to the Museum of European History, Washington" he said. "My name is Philip Prosperus. I'm the curator here. You must be Percy Jackson," he said, offering Percy his hand. Percy shook it. "Annabeth Chase," he said to Annabeth, and "Nico di Angelo," to Nico. "Your companions, I'm afraid, I don't know, as they are in the fortunate position of not having large bounties on their heads."
Jake, Will and Clarisse introduced themselves, and Philip smiled at each and gently shook their hands.
"I have lodgings upstairs, above the museum," he said. "If you'd follow me?"
They did so, and five of them soon found themselves squeezed onto a small sofa in Philip's chambers above, as he told them, the Roman exhibition. The sixth was Jake, who got the armchair due to his leg. Philip himself had a seat he'd brought through from his kitchenette.
"I've always been able to see things," said Philip. "When I was a child, I told my mother, and she scolded me for making things up. When I grew a little older, I began to think that my mind must be playing tricks on me, and so I put them aside as the signs of an over-active imagination. Then, when I was fourteen years old, I came across a book of Greek myths at school."
The light flickered, casting shadows on his face.
"I opened the book, read these two, three thousand year-old stories of creation, of the gods and the titans, and was enraptured. I grew up here in Spokane, and was never able to leave the city. Life at home was dull, bland, colourless, but here, in the pages of this book, was adventure. Heroes travelling the entire known world and beyond."
Percy looked at this ageing man whose voice seemed as dusty as the exhibits he looked after. He couldn't imagine Philip as a boy, he found, but Philip himself seemed to have been transported forty or fifty years into the past as he spoke.
"So, I read on. I read of Heracles and of Theseus, of Jason and of Perseus." Here he caught Percy's gaze, and held it for a moment. "The original Perseus," he clarified. "And then I read the story of Troy, of Paris and Helen and Menelaus and Agamemnon and Hector and Ajax and –" He paused, breathless, but when he spoke again it was in a triumphant tone that told Percy he was nearing the climax of his story. "– and Odysseus. And then I read the stories of their journeys home, those that were still alive at the end of the war, and those who still had homes to go back to. But Odysseus' story was of particular interest to me, because of his encounter with Polyphemus, the Cyclops. Because living, homeless, in an alley not far from my house was a man, perhaps seven feet tall, more if he had stood straight, with one enormous eye in the centre of his forehead."
He smiled sadly here, as though remembering.
"I had told my mother about him, and she said that perhaps he had been to fight in Europe, and had lost the eye there. Well, I could believe that he fought in Europe, but I expect if he did so, it was two thousand years before the war which my mother had in mind, and either way, he never lost an eye there. And ever since, I have lived on the fringes of the Greek world, looking in with curiosity at that of which I could never be a part. I followed it where I could, and even had two children whose lives were caught up in it, but I was never anything more than a spectator… until, two days ago, a man calling himself a titan commandeered the airwaves to strip away millenia of illusion, and to put bounties on teenagers' heads.
"Then I saw news stories about sightings of a dragon, supposedly with people riding it. Those same teenagers, the anchors speculated. There were sightings over New York, in Pennsylvania, in Ohio and Michigan, and then on to the Canadian border states: Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana and even Idaho. It seemed for all the world as though these people were heading straight towards me. So I kept an eye out, until today, when a lynch mob chases those people straight to my back door.
"So," he finished, "you are welcome here for as long as you wish. I know that I'm only a mortal, but if there is anything I can do to help, I would be glad to."
"Thank you," said Annabeth. She took a deep breath. "Do you… do you know what happened in Manhattan?"
"No," said Philip. "Only that it was something important."
"We lost," said Percy. "Olympus fell. Do you want to reconsider helping us?" He felt Annabeth and the others fixing him with a scowl, but ignored them.
"I would think," said Philip, speaking slowly and picking his words carefully, "that that would mean you needed my help all the more now." He didn't sound offended by Percy's tone, only concerned. "People will know that you're in the area by now, and everyone has heard about the rewards for capturing or killing you. It's not safe for you to go out, not unless you can fight through the whole city. Until the search is off, you can live here. I don't think that I can stand by and watch the titans win. Besides," he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "I could use some help working the tills in the museum."
"Thank you," said Percy, "but we need to be going south. We have to reach Mount Othrys so that we can..."
So that they could what?
Die fighting?
Remind the world they were still there?
Jump up and down and say 'notice me' until someone did?
"...start doing some damage," he finished lamely.
"That's a noble aim, but I'm afraid they know you're here. The stations, the roads, the airports… they'll all be closely monitored. Like I said, lying low is probably your best option for now."
"And wait for the net to close in around us?"
"Wait until the net is close enough for you to slip through one of the holes. I'm no fisherman, but I believe a son of Poseidon should know that nets are famous for such things."
Percy was pretty sure that was a rebuke to him for being rude, but he wasn't done. "And if they find us?" he demanded.
"Then all is lost. My plan is risky, I grant you, and requires a lot of nerve. But to leave now is suicide."
"And how long will we need to wait?" asked Percy.
Philip shrugged. "As long as is necessary. I'm sorry, I don't know. Weeks, perhaps."
There was a long silence as that settled in.
"You'd better show us how these tills work, then," said Will.
It turned out that Philip wasn't joking about the tills, though Percy, Nico and Annabeth were too well-known to be allowed out of the cramped rooms above the museum. Four days into their stay there, a bounty was released for Clarisse, too – a hundred thousand dollars, dead or alive – and Philip took her off welcoming duty. It hadn't been something she was much good at, anyway.
Life indoors wasn't much fun, but at least, they all reflected, it was life. Time was passed glued to the news, where coverage of the search for six missing demigods seemed to be all anyone could talk about, or else watching the clock above the door tick count the seconds. Philip provided them with playing cards and dug out his old movie collection, but no-one seemed to be able to concentrate on them.
Percy attributed his worsened ADHD to the fact that his life was in even more constant danger than normal.
On the sixth day, Philip had visitors.
The doorbell woke Percy in the small hours, but he had barely registered that it was the doorbell before Philip burst into the room he shared with Nico, Will and Jake, hissing at them to hide.
Nico grabbed Jake and disappeared into the shadows as Will stuffed himself inside the wardrobe. Percy dove into a pile of boxes, which he tried to rearrange to hide himself as much as possible. He saw the light dim as Philip closed the door behind him, and waited, barely breathing.
There was the sound of the door opening.
"Evening Phil," came a voice, only slightly muffled by the thin walls. Percy recognised it almost instantly as belonging to the leader of the gang that had tried to capture them on the first day here, and his breath, light as it was, caught in his throat. Philip knew those people?
"Good evening, Morris," said Philip. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Late, actually. Been searching homes since nine this morning."
"Shouldn't you be in bed now? Leave it for another day? You won't capture anyone if you're asleep on your feet."
"You saying I couldn't handle a bunch of kids, huh?"
"No, I just –"
"They just got lucky last time, understand? Anyway, I'm thinking I don't need to capture them. More trouble than it's worth, see? I can pay for Alice's surgery and the two of us can start a whole new life on a million eight hundred thousand. Who even needs a billion dollars?"
Suddenly, Percy was transported back in time a year.
A soul for a soul.
He had some sympathy for Morris.
If it hadn't been his soul on the line, he might actually have hoped the guy succeeded. But his life was on the line, and Morris was speaking again.
"I hear you've got some kids hanging around here, huh?"
"Just my kids and a few of their friends, come back home for a few days of holiday before setting off somewhere again. Iceland this time, I think."
"Oh? Mind introducing me?"
"I would, but they've already gone. Set off yesterday evening. I believe the flight should just have landed a couple of hours ago."
"Huh. Mind if I look around, just to check up on that?"
"Morris, it's four in the morning. I really don't think you have any right to –"
Footsteps in the hall.
"Wouldn't want you to be sheltering half-bloods, would we?" asked Morris. He spat the word half-bloods like it was the worst insult he could think of.
The door swung open and Percy stopped breathing altogether.
He saw light on the wall through the dim crack between his boxes.
"This bed's still warm," announced Morris.
"They're electric blankets," said Philip, improvising quickly. "Steve must have forgotten to turn them off before he left. The boy's always wasting power."
"Electric blankets in summer?"
"Be grateful you don't have to live here. It's a very poorly insulated home in some parts."
"And why're there beds on the floor?"
"His friends were staying with us too, before the Iceland trip."
"Huh."
Feet shuffled around the room, and Percy saw half-silhouettes cast on the small patch of wall he could see, dancing in the dim light. Then the footsteps receded, the door closed, and he could breath again.
They must have gone into the girls' room after that, as there was further talking, too faint to make out. Percy stayed, tense among the boxes, ready to hide if Morris came back or to leap out at the sounds of violence.
There were only more footsteps, though, as the feet and the voices returned to the hallway.
"You're imagining things, Morris," Philip was saying. "Look, we're both exhausted. Go and get some sleep, and we'll talk about it another time.
"It seems awful coincidental, don't it, your kids arriving at the same time as the half-bloods?"
"It's just that, Morris. Coincidence. Now kindly get out of my house."
In the moment of silence that followed, Percy was convinced he was about to hear Morris attack Philip. Instead, he said "Watch yourself, Phil. Be careful who you give your loyalty to," and slammed the door behind him.
Percy climbed out from behind his boxes as Will pushed open the wardrobe doors, and both stepped out into the tight little hallway, where Philip was standing, staring at the closed door.
"You know him?" asked Percy.
Philip span, caught by surprise. He steadied himself as he realised it was Percy. "Morris used to work here," he said. "Until his wife became sick, almost two years ago now. He cares for her full time now."
Percy nodded, understanding. "Thank you," he said.
Philip gave a bashful smile. "I'm just surprised he fell for that lie about electric blankets," he said. "It was easy enough to check, but he just took my word for it. We shouldn't hear from him again, but if we do, I'll have every right to turn him away at the door."
He took Will and Jake off shop duty from then on, though.
Another day passed, and they'd been there for a week.
Then another seven, and it was two. The news reverted to other things, and though there were still occasional segments on the fugitives, and much time was still devoted to the discovery of the Greek world, they were no longer the headline news they had been. According to Philip, though, Morris and his gang were still searching the town furiously, desperate for the money.
Annabeth raided Philip's dusty bookshelves for Greek myths, scouring them for anything that might yield an edge over the enemy, or just a way to stay alive. Percy found her one night, poring over The A-Z of Greek Monsters, Gods, Mortals and Animals. It was of a size that suggested that if it was dropped, the floorboards might not stop its fall.
"Catchy title," he said.
She looked up, caught by surprise, and nodded.
"Anything helpful?" he asked.
She shook her head and sighed. "No. I'm only on 'C' so far, so here's hoping it'll get better."
"I'm impressed you've got that far," he said.
"If you've got a better idea..." she started, voice icy. There'd been an edge to it ever since the incident with the farmer. Too late to apologise for that, now, but Percy could still try and salvage this situation.
He held his hands up, palms outwards. "Sorry," he said. "I meant, with dyslexia and all..."
Her shoulders dropped again. "I know. Sorry. It's just difficult. Like you said, all our friends are dead, and the only home I've ever had is gone, and I can't even read a stupid book because the words keep flying off the page." There was a tone of defeat in her voice.
"We don't know that they're dead," he pointed out. "Some of them could have escaped."
"Some of them could," she agreed. "But none of the others had a dragon. How far did they get?"
He sat next to her, unable to find a good answer to that.
She turned a page in the book.
"What's that?"
"Castor? He was –"
"No, the next one." He pointed to the illustration, of a monstrous creature that looked all too familiar. "The Cat – er, Catter –"
"Catoblepas?"
"Yeah. That."
She read the description aloud, slowly, stumbling over the more complex words as they swam before her eyes. "First identified by Pliny, the Catoblepas was a mythological creature from East – no – Ethiopia – with the body of a buffalo and the head of a boar, with its back pro – protected – by hard scales. Though, er, vegan? Vegetarian. Though vegetarian, the beast was highly aggressive, with… poisonous breath due to its diet of poisonous plants. Its gaze was also said to be deadly, like Medusa or the… basilisk, but its head was so heavy that it could only look down. This lead to the name Catoblepas, which means to look downwards in Greek."
She paused. "You've seen one?"
"Not here," said Percy. "Back at camp. In the woods, on one of the last days. When I was going to find the Apollo cabin, I ran into one." He looked down at his shoes. "It trapped me up a tree, took a while, meant I couldn't get to them quickly…"
"And then Harmony died that night and you blame yourself.
"I know what you're going to say – it wasn't my fault, I couldn't have done anything, she would probably have died even if Will had got to her sooner, but… you know that doesn't make me stop thinking about it."
"Percy, look at me."
He did. The grey eyes he found had a kind of soothing calmness in them. She reached into his lap and took his hand in hers.
"You did your best. I know it doesn't help much, but it is important."
He swallowed thickly. "Thanks."
She studied him for a moment before letting go. Another page went over.
"This book," he said, "does it have everything in it?"
"Not everything," she said. "But look at its size… most things, I'd guess."
"Could you turn to 'L' please?"
"Is this about Lamia? And Lilo?"
"If it might have something," he said.
"Then it's worth a look," she agreed.
The pages fell heavily over as Annabeth leafed through them, raising a small cloud of dust in the process.
"L," she announced. "There's a lot of it. Are you sure you'll recognise the name?"
"Yeah. It was something weird and Greek. I'll recognise it."
"If you hadn't noticed, this book is full of names that are weird and Greek, Seaweed Brain," she said.
He grinned crookedly. "Really? Would never have guessed that."
"We don't need your sarcasm here, Jackson."
"As you say, Miss," he said, saluting. "What's the first entry?"
"Lachesis," she said. "The middle fate. Measures the strings. Could they have said fate would kill you?"
He shook his head. "What's next?"
"Laconia was a place. Laconian Drakon… that's one of the worst. Maybe more dangerous than the Lydian Drakon Clarisse killed."
"I don't think so," said Percy, then noticed the next entry. "Ladon," he said. "Some bad memories there."
"I doubt they'd be able to get him away from the Garden of the Hesperides,"
"It wasn't him," said Percy. The page went over again.
It said, Lala… something.
"Laelaps?" Annabeth asked.
Percy's brain whirred. "That one."
"Really?"
"I think so."
"Di immortales," she hissed.
"What? What's bad about that?"
"Laelaps was a dog –"
"That's not so bad," Percy interrupted.
"She was destined to always catch her prey, Percy."
"I don't…"
"She was supposed to have been destroyed when she was sent to catch the Teumessian Fox – that was a fox destined never to be caught. It caused a paradox, and both of them just… stopped existing. But if the Titans have got her somehow, and if they can give her your scent, then it's a matter of when, not if. She'll lead them straight to us."
That hung in the air for a minute as Percy tried to digest it.
"Right," he said. "But we don't know that they do have her for certain."
Annabeth looked at him.
"Yeah, okay," he said. "We've been praying pretty hard anyway. Maybe the gods can buy us some time."
"Hopefully," she said.
He flicked over the next few pages, past Laertes and the Laistrygonians, until he reached the page he was looking for: Lamia.
The picture showed a beautiful woman, smiling out of the page. A fang pressing down on her bottom lip ruined the illusion.
The description explained that she was a daughter of Poseidon, who, when caught having an affair with Zeus by Hera, was transformed into an evil vampire-like creature who ate children and seduced men, before eating them as well.
Percy had really felt the need for another powerful enemy with a personal vendetta against the gods.
Two more weeks passed, inching by at the pace of a lame snail, with six tightly-wound demigods growing claustrophobic in a dusty museum attic. If someone had lit a match, Percy was certain the whole building would have exploded.
Then they had been there a month.
"I think Morris and his friends have given up," said Philip.
"Given up? Just like that?" asked Will.
"Just like that?" asked Philip, and chuckled. "They've been looking for you non-stop for the last month. It's less a question of given up than burnt out. I don't think any of them really believe you're still here any more."
"So we can go?" asked Percy.
"Maybe," said Philip. "They shouldn't be too much of a worry anymore, as long as you're careful, but you've still got to worry about titan troops. There are some in the town, and something tells me that they won't give up searching so easily. On the other hand, people are a lot more reluctant to give information to monsters than they are to other humans, so again, if we're careful, we can get you out safely. There are actually a number of titan garrisons in the state, so if you get into Oregon, you've bypassed a sizeable army."
Percy nodded. "Sounds good. So how do we get away?"
"I think that in the night would be best," said Philip. "Pack your things for this evening. Can you call your dragon?"
"No. We sent him into Canada. We thought he was too recognisable."
"That was probably sensible. I've got a car. If one of you can drive, you should take it, and I can come and pick it up tomorrow. I'll give you some money for tickets, too. There are guards at the station here, and as far as I can tell that's true for every other station in Washington and Idaho, but the only ones in Oregon are in the big cities. It seems that they didn't quite have the troops to shut down the whole country. There's a border town, about four hours' drive away, called Troy, fittingly enough. If you set out at about seven or eight, you should be able to catch the last train going south. Does that sound alright?"
They all nodded and agreed. Five of the demigods went off to pack, but Percy stayed. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
Philip had turned away to start making preparations, but turned back at the sound of Percy's voice, blinking. "By all means," he said. "Go ahead."
"You said you had kids, right?"
Philip smiled softly. "Yes. A boy and a girl."
"They're obviously not living here any more, but I was just wondering where they are? We've been here a month, and they haven't visited or sent cards or even phoned, and then I remembered that on our first night here, you said your kids were caught up in the Greek world, and I was wondering – are they demigods?"
Philip nodded.
"And then I was wondering, since they're demigods, and since it's a dangerous time for us – are they okay?"
Philip's eyes darkened. "Their mother took them," he said, voice almost a whisper.
"Their mother? I've never heard of gods raising demigods themselves, but –"
"Their mother took them," Philip repeated, "as an offering."
Percy paused. "Oh."
"She gave them as a gift," said Philip, and it seemed to Percy that he was now thinking out loud, not addressing his words to anyone in particular. "To show her loyalty to Kronos."
The sun seemed to lose a little of its brightness as Philip said the titan lord's name.
The man's eyes locked onto Percy's, and his face was lined with the worry he'd worked so hard to hide for the last month. "I know that there's a war going on. I know that defeating the titans is the most important thing, but if they're at Othrys, if they're still alive, please, please let me know. Please spare them if you can. They don't want to be warriors and they don't want to fight for the titans. They're just children."
There was a part of Percy that wanted to laugh at that last sentence. "We all are," he said instead. "If I do see them, though, I'll do my best to take care of them."
"Thank you."
There was another question that had to be asked, though Percy had little stomach for it.
"You said their mother took them. Who is she?"
A shiver went down his spine before Philip had even said the name, as if Percy's body could sense the danger associated with it.
"Hecate," said Philip. "The goddess of magic."
"That Mustang's been following us since we left Spokane," said Annabeth.
"We're on a main road. It's probably just going the same way as us," said Nico.
"And if it isn't then they've already had plenty of time to report us. We've been driving for two and a half hours, and they haven't even had a bathroom break."
"It's not as if no-one in the whole world ever goes to Troy, is it?" asked Nico.
"Well, we can't exactly outrun it," said Percy. Philip's car had turned out to be a cranky old Ford, barely roadworthy and barely big enough for the six of them to fit inside. Clarisse, the only one of them who could drive, reckoned it would get them to Troy, but not much further.
"There's an easy enough way to check if they're after us," said Annabeth.
"What's that?" asked Percy.
"Take the next turning," said Annabeth. "If they take it too, they're following us."
"Or we might just have turned onto the route they were taking," said Nico.
"So we don't go on a route to anywhere. We go in circles, or up and down, and then we'll be certain. Go right here."
Clarisse took the turning, onto what the sign said was Route 194.
They all looked back at the turning as the Mustang arrived at it. The headlights turned until they were pointing directly at the old Ford.
Percy, looking back from the passenger seat, caught the glint of satisfaction at being proven right in Annabeth's eye. He felt a thrill go through him at the idea that something might finally be about to happen again.
After a couple of minutes, there was a fork in the road.
"Take the right again," she said. "Make it seem like we're doubling back on ourselves."
The Mustang took the same road.
"They must be following us," said Jake. "No way is this coincidence. Not with our luck."
Our luck? Percy wanted to ask. How many life-threatening and world-endangering quests have you been on then, Jake? How many angry immortals have you had to fight?
He said nothing, realising that it would only make the situation worse.
"Shall we try and lose them, or confront them?" asked Annabeth.
"Confront them," said Clarisse. "I don't want anyone reporting back on us."
"We should find a good spot to stop then. Somewhere remote and out of sight."
They followed the road in silence, through a small town which named itself on the road signs as Union Centre, then carried on for another ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty.
"There's another town coming up," said Annabeth. "We should stop here. I have a feeling it won't get any better.
Clarisse responded by jamming her foot down on the brake. The car skidded to a stop by the side of the road, and they all climbed out. It was a hilly area, with clusters of woods scattered around. The Mustang's lights dipped as it came down towards them, and Percy felt the cold metal of the farmer's gun in his pocket, where he'd stored it. Just in case.
The Mustang's engine roared as the driver shifted gears, but when he came to a stop, the car moved far more quietly and gracefully than the Ford had.
The engine stopped and a door opened, but the headlights remained on, spotlighting the demigods and concealing the figure who emerged.
There was only one of them and Percy recognised the man as soon as he stepped into the car's beams. He was holding a shotgun in his hands and had a pistol at his hip.
"Morris," he said.
"Guessing Phil told you my name, huh, half-blood?"
Percy didn't reply to that one.
"Come with me quietly and we'll have no problems. I get more money for taking you in alive, after all, but you so much as hint at trouble and God help me – well, titans help me – I will shoot you dead on the spot."
"Where are your friends, Morris?" asked Percy. "Didn't they want to come with you? Did they think the money wasn't worth the risk?"
He could see Morris' teeth as the man smiled. "Don't try to bait me, huh, half-blood. It ain't gonna work. Now, the way I see it, I don't need all of you. I need the one who's worth a billion by himself, or failing that his body and the girl who's worth a million. I wouldn't mind taking the other two either, but those two without rewards, you can go. I don't care about you."
"So, what," asked Percy, "we're supposed to decide who dies and who lives between ourselves?"
"Not exactly," said Morris. "You decide whether or not you come quietly, and that gives me the number between one and six that is the number of shots I have to fire and the number of half-bloods I have to kill. So what's it going to be?"
Percy gritted his teeth. "We're not getting in that car," he said.
"Oh?" asked Morris, raising the gun to point at Percy.
Over to Percy's right, a head of blonde hair, worth five hundred thousand dollars on its own, moved suddenly.
Morris' gun moved suddenly, too, swinging over to point at Annabeth.
Percy, though, had demigod reflexes, and moved fastest of all. His hand plunged into his pocket and brought out the farmer's pistol. His finger twitched on the trigger. A bullet planted itself into Morris' skull before the man could blink.
Percy's brain shut down as he watched the effect's of Morris' doing the same.
The man's body spasmed as it fell to its knees. There was only a little blood oozing from the bullet hole in his forehead, but much more was splattered out onto the grass behind him.
Percy could barely believe he had just shot the man.
Annabeth was safe.
The dead thing that had once been Morris, a man who loved his wife enough to quit his job and care for her full-time, who cared for his wife enough to turn bounty-hunter to pay for her surgery, slumped face-first into the dirt.
Percy saw, as if for the first time, his friends' faces.
There was a haze of gunsmoke and death in the air, and the only thing he could see through it was horror.
What other options were left to him?
He ran.
I bet you all thought I'd given this one up, didn't you?
There are a few notes here, so buckle up, buttercups.
First off, the proposed rating move up to M will happen either next chapter or the one after. I haven't quite decided yet.
Secondly, bearing in mind the time it took me to finish this chapter, and the fourteen more chapters I've got planned after this one, I just wanna explain how that's going. I started this story off as an attempt to prove to myself that I could write a decent story about the length of a novel. Of course, I've never written a novel before...
It turns out that, while I haven't quite bitten off more than I can chew, I may have planned this poorly and got a mouthful that's a little uncomfortable to work my mouth around. You know the sort, when you have to pray that no one says anything funny or that you don't need to sneeze in case it makes you spray your food all over the grandparent sitting opposite you, who has a very clear sense of what's acceptable at the dinner table.
What, that's never happened to anyone else?
Of course, one way of getting around this is that tricky operation of spitting out half the mouthful when everyone's looking at pictures of the latest grandchild that one of your cousins has had, then finishing to chew what's left before stuffing that half-eaten glob back in before anyone looks back, so that you can actually eat your whole meal without choking on it.
You're not going to tell me that that's never happened to any of you, are you?
So yeah, that's kind of what's happening here. I've taken a step back from this story so that normal life can recommence around me. (Well, I took the step back at Easter, but who's counting?) This is NOT an abandonment, or even a hiatus. I'm going to continue working on this and the story will be finished. It's just that, as you may be able to tell, it's gonna take some time. I will write other things at the same time, both fanfiction and original stuff. But never fear; I'll persevere.
Thanks to AnnaUnicorn and Quihi for REVIEWING, and especially to ShadowsClaw, whose REVIEW served the double purpose of reminding me that this fic existed and giving me the motivation to finish the chapter.
Hopefully I'll get another chapter out before the end of the Christmas holidays (merry Christmas all, by the way - that feels weird to be saying when the AN at the end of the last chapter was happy Easter) but don't hold your breath for it. Seriously, you'd die. Actually, no, you'd fall unconscious and then start breathing again, but still. It would be very silly of you to do that. You need to learn to look after yourself. Anyway, where was I...?
What with this being 11,000 words long, (another reason why it took so long to finish) there are probably mistakes. Sorry about that. Also somehow the transfer from Word over to somehow caused it to gain about 200 words, which probably means that there's a paragraph or two that randomly repeats itself somewhere or something. I've had a look, but can't find anything. Feel free to point these problems out in REVIEWS.
Speaking of which, GUYS. I've just realised that I've been writing Othrys as Orthrys this whole time! How could you let me do this? And to think I trusted you... *swoons from the sheer betrayal*
Yeah, I've gone and fixed all of those in the previous chapters now. So if you happen to feel like reading those again but then think to yourself 'Oh no, I can't because the stupid idiot went and misspelled that mountain name that crops up every few thousand words, and that's something that I just cannot cope with,' then you can be at peace knowing that the issue is fixed. Of course, I might have missed one or two, and if so, feel free to let me know in a REVIEW.
Two final things -
One is that I realise Morris, not having a job and all, probably couldn't afford a Mustang, but I wanted something big and loud and angry, and my (admittedly limited) knowledge of cars suggested that a Mustang would sort of fit the bill.
The other is that I've never been to Washington, so this whole chapter was written based on Google Maps. Blame them if anything's wrong, but if it isn't, I'd like to offer my thanks to the fine folks at Google Maps for their helpful maps of Washington state. Also, I know Spokane isn't exactly on the Canadian border, but I figured if Peleus' has flown across almost the entire country in under three days, then he could make it that little bit further without too much trouble. If there are any Washingtonians (is that the word?) reading this and you spot any mistakes, feel free to let me know in a REVIEW and I'll do what I can to fix them.
If the capitalisation of every mention of the word didn't make it obvious enough, please review. Views and visits and follows and favourites are all very flattering but reviews just make my day. And make me write faster.
Until next time, whether that's in a week or a month or a year - but hopefully not a year -
Jeff. (Definitely)