Chapter Fifteen | ALEX GRIFFITH


ALEX HAD TO HAND IT TO PERCY, the kid didn't even mind being a blow-dryer after their fairly violent duel. He'd never been on the receiving end of the Percy Jackson version of a Super Soaker and after today, he hoped never to do it again. He'd probably deserved it, though.

Maybe.

Had it been anyone else, Alex would've felt bad for landing several nasty punches and kicks. The elbow crack to Percy's nose had been particularly nasty. But he didn't set out to compete to not win. And Percy could take it.

It felt a bit weird to walk back to the other campers and be heralded as a hero. Most people had been giving him a wide berth since word got round about him threatening the entire council of Olympians. While he felt absolutely zero guilt for drawing his weapon on the gods, he did feel bad about scaring, or at least worrying, some of his fellow Half-Bloods. After all, they'd been fighting a war against a rogue son of Hermes for years at that point.

He got hugs from almost everyone. Cheers went up for Kitty and for Alex, and even Ophelia who apparently had managed to distract half the Ares kids with her manipulation of the Mist. Beside Annabeth, all four were marched with cheers and enthusiastic hollering towards the campfire.

Surrounded by children who had just fought a war but now, only days later, screamed We Are The Champions at the top of their lungs led by Apollo's son Austin reminded Alex of why he fought for Camp Half-Blood. Not for the gods. For this.

For them.

For Clarisse, brooding in a corner with two of her brothers and munching on graham crackers.

For Miranda and Katie, rushing around, making sure no one littered while they settled around the campfire.

Even for heroes like Annabeth and Percy, sitting together on one of the front marble benches, the former cracking up while Percy buried his face in his hands.

Even if Percy hadn't pulled all the water from his clothes and hair before the campfire, Alex figured the fire was hot and bright enough to have done it for him. Where just days ago it had glowed a cold purple, now gold and orange flames roared towards the star-studded sky.

Nymphs joined some of the members of the losing team in distributing chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers. Alex opted for just a chocolate bar. He stood towards the back of the gleeful crowd—now singing a dissonant version of Bohemian Rhapsody while the Apollo cabin tried to conduct—and looked up. He followed the smoke trail to the constellations far above.

"Bigger is better, Chiron. How have you not figured that out yet?"

Alex turned around. A man in a white toga barely covering his muscular, tanned body, golden Ray-Ban sunglasses on despite it being well after dark, and a cocky smile with teeth so white they literally glowed walked next to Chiron. Apollo, god of way too many things. On his other side walked Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the new Oracle.

"It doesn't need to be that crazy," she said.

Apollo took off his sunglasses and slipped them on top of his bright golden hair. "I'd hardly call what we have planned for the cave crazy, Rachel."

"You want five flat screen TVs," Chiron said.

"See, Chiron agrees." Apollo waved his hand. "Easy."

Alex rolled his eyes. He turned away, hoping he wouldn't have to deal with another god. He'd seen enough gods to last a lifetime over the past week. Between Olympus and then Hermes at camp, he couldn't escape them.

Maybe he was cursed. Maybe the punishment for rebelling against the gods wasn't any sort of painful, drawn out death. Maybe it meant having to deal with them constantly, everywhere he went.

A cool hand grabbed onto his left. Alex broke into a smile, forgetting about Apollo and the other gods for a moment and focusing on Ophelia. She stood next to him with a half eaten s'more. She smelled even more like fire and smoke than usual. Alex closed his eyes. Neither of them spoke.

He listened to the next song. The other kids did better with Don't Stop Believin' than with Bohemian Rhapsody or even Sweet Caroline. Probably because the Apollo kids had gotten their instruments. Even Alex couldn't help but join in during the chorus. The last time he'd felt this happy… he couldn't remember.

Then the girls from Aphrodite and Apollo started singing Wannabe by the Spice Girls. They must've planned it. Alex shook his head, smirking like an idiot.

Capture the Flag had been a good idea. He turned to Ophelia to say so, but she let go of his hand and leapt up onto benches with half the girls from Cabin 11 and the girls of Cabin 4 to join in the chorus of Wannabe.

By the time the song ended, the entire camp was in stitches. Grand applause sounded for Kayla Knowles, revealed as the mastermind behind the project. Conversations split as karaoke stopped.

Alex didn't wait to kiss Ophelia when she made her way back over, tears of laughter in her eyes. He leaned into her, grabbing her closer as they stood at the edge of the crowd and firelight. She tasted like marshmallows and chocolate. Alex started laughing.

She caught her breath as he pulled away. "What?"

Lowering his voice, he leaned in closer. "So, 'if I wannabe your lover, do I really have to get with your friends'?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"I can make an exception."

"You're too kind."

He kissed her again. Alex would've been content to stand there forever amidst the laughter and the shadows and firelight. But as he put a hand on her waist and closed his eyes again, the laughter died down.

Ophelia and Alex broke apart just in time to see Rachel Elizabeth Dare stand up from a wooden bench near Percy, Annabeth, and Will Solace in a trance. Her eyes glowed an electric green. It reminded Alex painfully like poison.

He had never talked to the Oracle. Luke had. He hated speaking about it. It had sent him on a worthless quest for a golden apple that had already been completed by another hero. But the other campers told stories of the time the mummified Oracle had interrupted a game of Capture the Flag between the Hunters and the Campers. Who knew the spirit of Delphi liked Capture the Flag?

Alex shivered as Rachel—as the Oracle—turned from the flames. Eyes unseeing and yet able to find who she looked for, Alex stopped breathing as the camp stopped speaking. Shivers shot down his spine.

She held out a hand, a single finger pointed straight forward. Straight at Alex. Gone was the human voice of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, replaced by the haunting triple tone of the spirit of Delphi.

"Herald's son must heed the call

Lest on rebel children, fury falls

"Find the harp who minds could sway

Which last of all led damned astray

"A choice born of wrath he must unlearn

For to Herald's home but one returns

"Fortune's favor untie fates of three

Twist the threads and form darkest key

"All hope lost, they seek their share

Led through shadow by Strife's chosen heir

"To the thrones of the gods by guilt be driven

If quest succeeds, all sins be forgiven

"But if lost cannot restore the strings

Death unto all by hand of king of kings."

She collapsed. Alex didn't see who caught her, but moments later, Rachel stood back up confused, but silent.

The whole camp stayed silent.

Alex could only hear his heart. Blood pounded in his head. The air around him dropped several degrees and he realized Ophelia looked as scared as he felt. Alex turned to her. He saw her blue and copper eyes widening as she looked over his shoulder. He turned.

"Well that was dramatic. I think I'll call it…" Apollo trailed off. "The Prophecy of Reparation. Has a nice ring to it."

Alex tried to stop shaking. He tried to ignore the way the entire camp had taken three steps back from him and Ophelia. So he looked at the god instead. Apollo wandered over, smile never faltering. Chiron followed him. He seemed much more troubled.

"I have rarely heard a prophecy spoken with such a…" Chiron trailed off, pawing at the grass. "Noncommittal ending."

Apollo shrugged. He looked around over the crowd of demigods, nymphs, and satyrs, before pointing to Kitty. "You're one of Tyche's?" She must've confirmed it, because Apollo turned back around. "Thought so. Any time one of her kids is involved in these, my Oracles go haywire." He sighed. "Hard to prophesy for someone who likes to play with luck. Don't blame me."

Alex finally found his voice. "So that's it. A quest? That's how the gods will decide who lives and who dies?"

"It's great isn't it!" Apollo grinned. "Hephaestus TV will be all over it. Finally, some new programming." He shrugged. "Lucky for you, Zeus has to abide by the prophecy, too. Last I heard, most of Olympus wanted to vaporize you."

Hephaestus TV. His quest to save the half-bloods had been mistreated and abandoned and led astray would be broadcast across the immortal realms to serve as reality entertainment. The Amazing Race of life and death? Alex wished he hadn't put his sword down.

"Have fun," Apollo said. He turned back around. "We'll discuss flat screen TVs later, Chiron. Rachel needs to rest and you all probably have some business to get around to."

He disappeared, ascending upwards on a cloud. Still, no one spoke. Alex turned to Ophelia. She looked even paler than normal. He turned to Kitty, shouldering her way through the crowd. Even she was frowning. He squeezed his fists tight, trying to count to ten before he did anything stupid. Like, looking up at the sky and swearing on the River Styx to kill Zeus. That would've been bad.

No one could escape a prophecy. Whether he wanted to be part of it or not, every single traitor demigod now relied on him to succeed. So his bit his tongue, turned from the spectators, and walked over to Chiron.

He gingerly pawed the ground again. "Alex—"

"I'm going to bed. We can talk about this in the morning."

He didn't wait to see who would follow. Probably Ophelia, maybe Kitty. But he had a feeling this Prophecy of Reparation has ruined the mood for most of camp. By the time he climbed into his bunk in Cabin 11, plenty of others started to do the same.

He closed his eyes. Green, poisonous light filled his mind, accompanied by the booming voice of the Oracle and her third line. Either he, or Kitty Ellis, or Ophelia Byrd would return. Only one.

No one could escape a prophecy. Not even them.