Chapter 2: In which Malcolm wins and loses (Part 1/3)
"Honey, I'm home," Percy called out after they rose to the surface. He had his wide jokey grin on.
Climbing aboard the helm, the trio were met with Annabeth on watch.
"Hey, you." Annabeth welcomed Percy with a quick kiss and crouched down to her little sister. "Are you okay?" she asked Alicia, who replied in the affirmative. "Are you hungry? Sophie's got those protein bars you like." Annabeth directed Alicia starboard to the blonde teenager keeping an eye on nine bound and unconscious campers.
All observed the adorable Alicia—adorned with baby fat and a custom-fit cuirass—plop herself criss-cross applesauce by a doting yet quiet fifteen-year-old Sophie. But Malcolm was more interested in the responses of the two by his side.
They weren't even that subtle. Annabeth shared a glowing look with Percy, who returned a smile and the barest hint of a nod—what Malcolm had reasoned was their when-we-have-kids exchange.
Malcolm had caught those exchanges over the past several years, especially around Percy's little sister Estelle, but they seemed to be coming up more so now. That perhaps had to do with the fact that Alicia looked like a mini-Annabeth. So, whether Percy and Annabeth ended up married or not, it seemed pretty clear they wanted kids.
Whatever. Their business.
"Noticed the flag. Good job," Malcolm said.
"We even managed to drive out the potential leakers," Annabeth said, returning Malcolm's offered high five.
"Of course you did," Percy said, casually throwing an arm around Annabeth's shoulders. "You know I don't doubt you." He pressed his lips to her temple in the way he often did and with a wink proceeded to command the ship.
"That man needs to stop feeding my ego," Annabeth muttered.
This was the gold standard, Malcolm thought. Ladies, gents, everyone… pick a partner who believes in you like Percy Jackson can.
Leaving Annabeth to ogle her man in peace, Malcolm familiarized himself with his surroundings as he caught up with the team. Percy had relieved Claire from sailing duties, and the duo promptly shipped off the last prisoners on a tugboat led by hippocampi. Sophie and Alicia (and eventually a focused Annabeth) were then free to begin brainstorming some offensive plays over ambrosia protein bars. And portside by the cannons, two blonds were taking turns hissing and cussing as they stung each other's wounds with nectar. Zeke's cheek cuts would heal quickly, but the ugly gash in Conrad's right (and favored) arm gave Malcolm a case of the heebie-jeebies. For now at least, the Athenians could take a breather to recharge, given that the ship and its surroundings were Percy-fied.
But shortly after Claire joined Malcolm's efforts to fix up their brothers, Malcolm's hand went to the xíphos at his side as a flurry of blues and oranges hurled over to Annabeth.
"Annabeth! It's so good to see you again!" Rhode said, greeting Annabeth with cheek kisses and a warm embrace. "How is everything?"
Following some momentary fluster, Annabeth quickly regained her composure and struck a relatively hushful conversation with the princess.
Percy made introductions to all, and as Rhode gushed to the Athenians about their sister's architectural prowess and the beauty of the newly renovated Atlantian palace, Malcolm decided that he could definitely tolerate the goddess.
"I hate to bring this up, but is Rhode even allowed to play capture the flag?" Claire asked, bandaging her twin's arm. "I mean, you're a goddess. That doesn't sound fair."
"Don't tell me you interrupted one of my few mornings off to have me join a game I can't actually play," said Rhode to her brother.
"I'm pretty sure sea nymphs are allowed," Percy said. "If a Cyclops and the Hunters can join, why not one of the Haliai?"
"Because Rhode is clearly far more powerful," Annabeth said.
"Oh, let her have fun. We'd love your help, Rhode," Conrad gritted out, mid-arm stretch.
"I also don't think I've done anything Percy couldn't do," Rhode said.
"Although I could only do that stuff maybe just on a really good day…" Percy mused.
"Sure, on a good day and perhaps without as much style, but, beautiful horses or mangled donkeys, the outcome is all the same," Rhode said, snickering to a grunting Percy. But she ultimately agreed she wouldn't go beyond her brother's level.
Given Rhode's confirmation that a warning system of marine and equine beings was in place, the team continued their break, making sure to fuel up and apply sunscreen. It was probably better to let Ares and Hermes fight it out and dive back in later, once the pegasi and sea friends gave word as to the whereabouts of the flag. And Conrad wasn't in good shape anyway.
Better than bum around, Malcolm hesitantly but politely heeded Annabeth's instructions to help set up their new friend with comms and take stock of weaponry, so he and the princess explored the lower deck. In a little tool room of their stash of hijacked weapons, communications gear, and armor, he quickly found the extra earpieces.
"Ooh, I feel like I'm in a spy film," Rhode said as he cautiously helped fit one of the devices over her ear, trying not to touch her.
He almost smiled at the comment. "It does make you feel like that, doesn't it? Annabeth's going to program the pieces to our names. It's activated by brainwaves, so all you have to do is think the name of the person you want to reach and then talk. Okay, is that comfortable?"
Rhode nodded.
"There's also probably some armor here that fits you," he said, looking around.
"Oh, I'm alright, thank you," Rhode said, straightening her dress.
Malcolm fixed his own earpiece to himself. "Are you gonna keep wearing that?" he asked.
"Funny you say that. You seemed to like what I'm wearing," Rhode said, entirely too satisfied for his liking. She even threw him a wink as she half-posed with her arms akimbo. "I think it's quite nice, too."
Rhode took a moment to admire her outfit and Malcolm made the mistake of following her gaze as it traveled downwards, pleasing her and his lizard brain. He ignored both.
"Your attire isn't the least bit appropriate," he said.
Rhode's eyes suddenly narrowed into slits. "Are you policing my clothing?" she said.
"I don't care what you normally wear. I'm just saying your dress is impractical for fighting," Malcolm told her.
"And I saved your ass in this dress," Rhode said. "So maybe you need to step it up instead of bitching about what I'm wearing." But her outward annoyance dissipated as quickly as it had come. "You're welcome, by the way." Rhode flashed another smile.
Malcolm remembered then that even the ancient Romans, pompous as they'd been, hadn't encountered people so infuriatingly arrogant before they'd stepped foot on Rhodós. Maybe that trait applied, too, to the island's patron goddess.
Had irrationality also been a Rhodian attribute?
She thought it was a good idea to fight in a dress. Without armor. And with her hair untied. Like, What? What are you thinking? This isn't a gods-damn fashion show.
"What is it with you?" said Rhode. Her eyes so quickly formed a storm.
"With me?" he said. "Oh, I'm not the one who could've messed up our play because I was so okay with throwing our plan out the window without a second thought."
"But I didn't mess anything up!" Rhode said. "I disarmed two of our opponents and took down five faster than you could lift a finger, thank you very much. We made it out fine and we made it out quick."
"But why even take that risk?"
Rhode stepped into his space with an icy stare—but he wouldn't be provoked. "What's the matter with a little risk?" she said. "You're not a coward, are you?"
"People often mistake bravery with stupidity," Malcolm responded.
"Don't you call me stupid," she hissed in his face. "I had that under control. And risk-takers win. It's not stupid of us to face the whole of Camp Half-Blood. What would that make you? A hypocrite?"
"Ever heard of calculated risk?"
"I don't have to be a mathematical genius to know you've been gambling," she said.
This close, Malcolm could see that Rhode's eyes changed colors from sea green to teal, reminding him of the way that waves shimmered as they reflected light. Greed glinted out from some sort of deep green or blue.
"But maybe," Rhode said, "maybe the gamble's worth it for that chance to reap such glorious rewards."
If Rhode agreed, maybe this entire plan had been a terrible idea.
Or was she just goading him? To what end? To get him to admit she'd helped? To get him to—?
Movement caught his peripheral vision. She crossed her arms. And with a rise of her chest—maybe a little too noticeable to be unintentional—came a surge within his, as he wondered how fucking serious she was if she truly were attempting to toy with him.
But as Rhode grew yet nearer, her sea eyes held Malcolm's captive. He hadn't finished the puzzle. Really, what color were they? What… color…?
A cleared throat snapped Malcolm out of daze. Stupid ADHD. (Yeah, that was it.) Malcolm immediately distanced himself from the sea goddess and turned to face his savior.
By the doorway stood Percy, his eyes darting back and forth between his sister and Malcolm as though watching a ping-pong match. The son of Poseidon's brows shot up.
"We were just, um…" Malcolm tried to explain. Yelling at each other? Crap.
"Looking at maps?" Percy asked. His innocent tone was betrayed by a conspicuous, teasing smile.
Malcolm just stared and offered no response. Beside him, Rhode rolled her eyes but ultimately strode off in triumph to the upper deck.
"Sorry, I guess," Percy told him, looking genuinely regretful.
"No. That's not—" Malcolm sputtered, feeling even more red in the face.
"Geez," Percy mumbled. "You two met less than an hour ago and within three minutes of alone time—"
"We were not— I didn't even do anything. It was her—"
"Uh-huh." Percy took stock of the tools, weighing a sword, observing a spear, peeking under a shield….
"This really isn't the same thing," Malcolm said. I was just… trying to figure out what color her eyes were.
Like that sounded any better.
"Okay," Percy said. "I just came in to check on our smoke grenades. Alicia wants to use them."
Still a tomato hue for no good reason why, Malcolm gave him an earpiece and helped him find the weapons. When Percy failed to take the air of awkwardness with him up the stairs, Malcolm was left to mindlessly busy himself with organizing the scraps.
What was it about Rhode that annoyed him? Her carelessness? (Sure.) Her pride? (Did she say or do anything he didn't believe to be true about her or himself, though? How would this compare to Athenian arrogance?) Did his cortisol levels rise as a result of some purely biological-level attraction? (Possibly.) Or was it annoying that she knew she was attractive? (No, of course not.)
Static buzzed by his right ear. "Testing, testing. Team meeting, Mal," came Claire's voice.
"Yeah, I'm coming up."
Malcolm hoped to the gods his cheeks weren't still as heated as they felt.
Under the glare of the sun, Percy and Rhode lounged carelessly on the side of the ship, and the Athenians scattered nearby around snacks on the floor, with Annabeth distributing sunscreen.
"Any updates? Do we wanna get back out there yet?" Malcolm asked.
"We have everyone on the lookout," Percy said. "Pegasi, hippocampi, water spirits, fish…. And Rhode and I are here. We can probably still chill for now and let Hermes and Ares fight each other until we get some news."
"They could join forces if we let them stew for too long, couldn't they?" Sophie asked.
"I think that would be overestimating them," said Annabeth. "But we should figure out how we might want to address that. Alicia suggested we blitzkrieg them with smoke grenades before going in."
"Just not where the flag is maybe. They might move it then," Malcolm said.
"Plus, it'd be better if they think we're heading someplace else," Conrad added.
"Yeah. So let's just make sure we stick to the plan or operate within reasonable deviations from it," Malcolm said.
"We should also make sure we're not being uptight," Rhode said flatly as she picked at the chipping polish on her nails. "That'd simply kill all the fun, making this a worthless quest."
"It's also important," Malcolm said, "to be wary of such a haughty att—"
"Oh, you think I'm a hottie?" Rhode said, head cocked. She smirked right at Malcolm.
"I said haughty and you know it," Malcolm said forcefully.
Claire nudged Conrad's good arm. "Are you getting a sense of déjà vu?"
"Dear gods. This doesn't need to happen again," Conrad said. "We know how this plays out. This is stage one."
"And if history's any indication, next is to just go get a room and hash it out," Claire said, receiving in chuckles and snorts from Malcolm's other siblings.
"Yeah," Sophie agreed. "Just not Cabin Three, though, because Percy and Annabeth have already booked it."
Half the couple responded with an eye roll. The other half pretended no comments were ever made.
"Nah, they go in the lake to do that," said Zeke.
"Please. They do it everywhere," Conrad added.
"Do what?" Alicia asked. Everyone seemed to forget that there was a precocious six-year-old in their company. "Is this about the strawberries?" she asked suspiciously.
Oh no. Poor Alicia was probably even more confused now.
"Strawberries?" Rhode asked.
"Ya," said Alicia. "I heard Mal talking to Annabeth about catching her and Percy eating strawberries. But I don't know. It seemed like they were lying about it."
"I'm sorry, what did you say? What about strawberries?" Percy said.
Stop. Just stop.
"They were talking one time," said Alicia, "and I remember I heard Mal complain that he would have to hear you and Annabeth having strawberries again."
That had been just over a month ago, when Annabeth and Percy moved back from New Rome. Malcolm told his sister something along the lines of: Get some. Get all you want. But, for the love of the gods, when I have to get to you when someone's looking for you, I just don't want to hear you doing it. Again.
"Huh? How can he hear us having s-strawberries?" Percy just about squeaked out. Embarrassment turned into amusement. "Strawberries?"
Hey. Alicia had just walked in. It was the first thing that came to mind. Outwardly, all Malcolm could do was sigh, try not to meet his little sister's eyes, and figure out how to worm his way out of this topic.
"I don't know!" Alicia exclaimed. "And I asked them what was so bad about strawberries, but Annabeth said they weren't bad. She said she likes strawberries."
Everyone stared at Annabeth.
"Wow," said Zeke.
Even Percy questioned her with look and a restrained laugh.
Malcolm wished he could say that Annabeth's past attempt at making him uncomfortable would come back to bite her now, but she looked quite poised.
"What?" she said. "Did you want me to lie?"
"I thought they're healthy," said Alicia, "but Mal said to be careful because there could be 'negative externalities,' which I think means something like 'unintended consequences'. So I did some research about strawberries. I found out that they're mostly healthy, but not as much as other fruits. They're apparently high in sugar, so you should beware of, ähm, tooth decay and sugar crashes." She counted the side effects on her small fingers.
Malcolm couldn't help but smile. She was such a smart cookie. It was cute how she was lecturing everyone about this, even if she didn't fully get the concept of externalities.
"Oh, and Ainsleigh from the Demeter cabin told me all of Camp Half-Blood's strawberries are organic, but I found out that almost all strawberries produced in America are made using pesticides. There's something called fum—ähm—fumi—something with an 'F'."
"Definitely an F involved," Conrad said.
Not helping, bro.
"Fumigants," Conrad then supplied.
Still not helping.
"Fumigants," said Alicia. "And they're really bad. They're these gases that are put in the soil and they hurt or kill everything they come into contact with. Farmers started to use fumigants after some researchers used the tear gas left over from World War I in experiments. So it's mostly bad for the people growing the strawberries. But also," she said, enrapturing everyone, "if you have too many strawberries, you can get upset intestines... If you know what I mean," she added in a loud, sneaky whisper.
Oh, sweet summer child…
"That's all I know," she said. "But some things still don't make sense." With furrowed brows, Alicia resumed her ambrosia nibbling.
Florian Dietrich must have told his daughter that all babies sprung from their mother's heads. There was no way she wouldn't have otherwise connected the dots. And while Malcolm didn't want it to be him to tell Alicia about the birds and the bees, his siblings had already pushed the duty on him, arguing that it was the responsibility of Cabin Six's head counselor and oldest resident. (It was a good excuse, but it just wasn't fair.)
"Fascinating," said Rhode, jolting him from his thoughts. "Well, in any case, strawberries at least seem more appetizing than cherries."
A loud grunt escaped the throat of the preteen Zeke, while spit threatened to burst out of Sophie's mouth.
"Excuse me, what are you implying?" Malcolm said.
Rhode crossed her arms. "Oh, I'm not implying. I'm saying you'd l—"
"Rhode. Malcolm. Please?" Percy said. "We better not implode just because you two can't keep your hormones in check." He wore an infuriating and seemingly knowing look.
Just no, Percy. There was nothing to know here. With his eyes, Malcolm sent a "cut it out" to his siblings, who had the wits to look at least partially remorseful.
"We'll have this in the bag within the next several hours," Annabeth told him pre-protest.
Right. She probably couldn't tell off Rhode. That just pissed him off more.
"You can argue all you want later," Percy said. "Preferably not, though. But right now, we're a team. Alright?"
The butting heads grudgingly took heed, and an awkward silence followed before Claire initiated a tepid discussion on predictions as to what their opponents were up to.
Malcolm, meanwhile, tried to ignore Percy and Annabeth's whisperings, and opted instead to join his siblings in a muscle stretch as well as take turns using the aphedrṓn. (Ah. The wonders of a ship. How comforting it was to have access to a real, private toilet during capture the flag.)
A good five minutes after Malcolm welcomed a conversation with Sophie, who wanted to update him on her revised study plan for the upcoming academic year, Blackjack arrived on the scene, bearing news of their opponents.
Apparently, the eighty remaining opponents were dispersed throughout the grounds, and the fourth flag to be captured was held south of Zephyros Creek by the old entrance of the labyrinth.
The team of nine decided to let the pegasi storm the strongholds with smoke grenades and to split in three groups. Now to allocate members to teams while distributing experience and injury...
Malcolm mentally slotted the restrictions and possibilities into the obvious buckets.
Percy would protect the ship and the three flags with sea friends. Alicia could join him if she wanted; she would be safest on board.
Meanwhile, at least two groups of the rest would round in on the forces protecting the remaining flag.
Conrad and Claire would, for sure, would comprise a team, maybe with another sibling—someone other than Annabeth and Malcolm. Sophie or Alicia then, if the twins needed.
That left Zeke, Malcolm, Annabeth, and Rhode, which seemed like overkill. So perhaps—
"I could help eliminate the rest of the enemy and divert attention away from those capturing the fourth flag," Rhode suggested. "I don't even have to be near a creek. I have the petrified seashells."
Smart.
In that case, then maybe do PA, CCZ, MS, so Ann—
"Malcolm, will you go with Rhode?" Percy asked.
Malcolm refused to look at the goddess.
"You're the only one who knows how Rhode fights," Percy said. "And with your overall experience, you two can go alone. We won't need any more of us."
And that was how he got trapped.
