Disclaimer: All rights belong to Rick Riordan. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made.

Rating: T for dark themes and violence

Chapter 4

Annabeth gets the chills even before they enter the cave.

Percy and Beckendorf row the small boat through the river. Annabeth sits in the middle. They've landed on a small island with a few towns, but they're taking the boat past the towns and through a forest with a canopy so dense that the rays of sunlight barely reach the ground. It's dark and eerie, and the presence of lit torches every five paces doesn't reassure Annabeth in the least. In fact, the dancing shadows make it even more sinister.

The torches lead the way to a cave with two mooring posts in front of it. Percy ties up the boat and climbs onto the rock ledge. Beckendorf follows, and Percy holds out his hand for Annabeth.

The initial entrance to the cave is exactly how Annabeth imagines a cave: wet, dripping with dangerous stalagmites, covered with creepy crawling creatures and sleeping bats.

"Your friend really knows how to live a life of luxury," she remarks.

Percy reaches the last torch and then sticks his hand into the darkness, pulling back what Annabeth realizes is a curtain. Warm light emanates from within.

"She really does," he agrees as she steps forward.

Annabeth catches her breath. The inner part of the cave doesn't feel like a cave at all. A fire roars in a concave in the wall, a pot of boiling water over it. A bed with colorful blankets folded neatly on top sits in a corner, beautifully woven rugs are spread out along the floor, and a table covered in brushes and paints and papers sits against another wall.

But what catches Annabeth's attention the most is the artwork. Every inch of open wall is covered in paintings and sketches. Annabeth sees quite a few with Percy in them. She drifts around the room, staring at them.

One has Percy, a few years younger, standing in front of a much more worn down Pax. Beckendorf is by his side, examining it.

Another one has Percy wielding his sword, an intense expression on his face. His opponent isn't pictured, but Annabeth wouldn't want to be on the other side of it.

A third picture has Percy dressed up like a gentleman, seated in a carriage next to a girl with fiery red hair. She's also wearing a fancy dress and a petticoat. They're laughing, their hands next to each other on the bench with only a hair's breadth between them.

Annabeth turns back to the cave and almost jumps in surprise. The girl from that picture is standing in front of her now, watching Annabeth with a strange expression on her face.

"Annabeth," Percy says, an easy smile on his face, "meet my friend Rachel."

Rachel continues to stare at her. She looks a lot different than in the picture: her curly red hair is unruly, exploding around her head and over her shoulders. She has a paintbrush tucked in her ear, and a dried streak of blue across her chin. Her bright green eyes shine out from pale skin scattered with light freckles. She's wearing trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and an apron covered in splatters and swipes of different colored paints.

"I've seen you," she says, tilting her head. "But I didn't realize you'd be here so soon."

Annabeth glances back at Percy, whose skin pales. "What do you mean, you've seen her?"

Rachel steps around them to her art table, where she begins to shuffle through the papers. She pulls out a piece and hands it to him silently.

Annabeth studies it over Percy's shoulder. She sees herself and Percy standing back-to-back in the middle of ruins together, their weapons drawn and pointed out. Whatever or whoever they're fighting is conveniently faded out.

"What is this?" she asks, her voice shaking.

"The future," Rachel says. She turns back to the table and shuffles through some more pictures.

Annabeth half-turns to the painting of Percy and Rachel in the carriage. "So...all of these are the future?"

"That's in the past," Beckendorf says with a knowing smile. "Rachel gets visions from the past, present, and future."

"I'm assuming this hasn't happened yet, so it's in the future." Rachel returns with another picture. "But that's not the only thing I saw." Her eyes jump to Beckendorf, and she quickly looks away. "I foresee that your quest will be successful. You will find what you're looking for."

"That's good news, right?" Percy says.

"Beware, Perseus, son of the sea." Rachel's eyes glow with an unnatural light. Her voice changes, sounding like it's being spoken by a dozen voices. Annabeth takes a step back, but Percy and Beckendorf don't seem surprised.

The weapon you seek must not be returned

You must reunite with the one you have spurned

The power of the seas will lie in your hand

For the fate of the world you must make your stand

A fight against foes, family, and friends

The betrayal of one may be the end

The glow fades and Rachel stumbles back. Percy steps forward and grabs her arm, helping her over to the bed. He grabs a flask of water from the table and wraps her fingers around it. After the first swallow, she seems to recover.

Annabeth is rooted in place with shock. She finally manages to put together a coherent sentence: "What was that?"

"Rachel is an oracle," Beckendorf says, staring at a picture on the wall of a ship exploding at sea. "Like I said, she gets visions."

"That wasn't a vision. That was...almost like a prophecy."

"I get both," Rachel says, sitting up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Prophecies are for quests, like the one Percy is going on now. Visions come to me in dreams."

Annabeth's mind is swirling, working in overdrive. She feels as though she's been given pieces of a puzzle, but she's still missing some vital ones to solve it. Whatever the case, this is definitely what Percy meant when he said he wasn't a normal pirate.

Annabeth has heard myths of pirates searching for hidden treasure, but she's never heard of pirates questing for...what did Rachel say? Some sort of weapon?

Percy's face looks troubled as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed by Rachel. "My client didn't give me much information about what I was looking for. He said something about going back in time to find it. I don't know what that means."

Rachel points to the painting on table with Percy and Annabeth standing back-to-back fighting. "I suspect that means you'll find your answers at a ruin. Ancient ruins, most likely. Did he say anything else?"

"Yeah, something about it being part of my blood."

"Baelo Claudia. It's the ruins of a Roman city in southern Spain. There was a temple to the Olympians there, as well as a salt factory."

Percy stands, his hand fidgeting around the hilt of his sword. "Thank you, Rachel. It was good to see you again."

She smiles. "You're always welcome, Percy." She glances over at Annabeth. "Give me a moment," she says, and ducks behind another curtain by the bed. She returns a minute later with a stack of clothes in her arms, which she offers to Annabeth. "Here. I can tell that Percy doesn't keep women's clothing around."

Despite her spinning head, Annabeth offers the other girl a smile. "Thank you."

"May the gods be with you on your journey." Rachel's eyes flicker back to Beckendorf. "And...remember to take advantage of every moment. In case things go wrong."

Annabeth doesn't like the implication there - especially since she's a Seer - but they all nod goodbye as they exit. Annabeth freezes right before the curtain.

Hanging at eye level on the wall by the curtain is a painting of her and Luke. They're standing on a ship together, smiling at each other as if they haven't seen one another in weeks. Annabeth is wearing a sleeveless blue dress in a style she's only ever seen before in classical paintings.

"Is that your finacé?" Percy asks, peering over her shoulder.

"Yes," Annabeth whispers.

"It looks like you guys will end up reuniting after all."

"So it does."

She stares at the painting for another minute. She can tell that it's her in the picture, but there's something different about her that she just can't place.

She could stare at it for hours, but instead she turns away and steps out of the cave.

Back at the ship, Percy, Beckendorf, Frank, Will, and Annabeth stand around the table in the navigation room. Percy repeats the story of their visit with the oracle and the prophecy.

"Your client just asked you to retrieve a weapon that you had to go back in time to find and that it was a part of your blood?" Will raises an eyebrow. "That seems awfully vague and kind of shady."

"That's how it usually is in this business." Percy rubs his face with a hand. "And the reward was enough for my choice of ship. We could have our own fleet if we wanted."

"If he's willing to pay you that much for this object, then don't you think that maybe it isn't a good idea to give it to him?" Annabeth asks. "Obviously it's extremely valuable."

Frank tips his head towards her. "She has a point."

"The prophecy says that it's a weapon. I definitely don't think we should give it to just anyone. At least let me take a look at it first, see how dangerous it is," Beckendorf says.

"The weapon you seek must not be returned. Does that mean returned to the client or returned to the original owner?" Will glances around the table, but no one has an answer. "And who have you spurned that you must reunite with?"

Percy's eyes are stormy, like a hurricane or a tsunami. "I'll deal with it when the time comes," he says, his tone closing discussion on that particular line.

"The power of the seas will lie in your hand / For the fate of the world you must make your stand. Those lines sound like they go together. I would ask if the power of the seas could somehow be the weapon, but that's impossible." Annabeth frowns at the implication. "No one person can control the seas."

Beckendorf glances over at Percy. "Is it possible? Is the tri - "

Percy shakes his head. "No. I would know. I'd be able to sense that."

Annabeth wants to ask what they're talking about, but she has the feeling Percy would give her one of his "it's too hard to explain" excuses. This is a mystery she'll have to unravel for herself.

"Fate of the world sounds pretty strong. I'm voting that if we find this weapon, we don't sell it," Frank says.

"I'm more concerned about the last two lines." Percy's eyes darken like the skies before a hurricane. "A fight against foes, family, and friends / The betrayal of one may be the end."

Annabeth remembers the way Percy acted last night when he talked about his brother. Was there something more to the story than just his brother going to work for his father? Did he and Percy have a falling out?

And what had Percy said about his father? That he expected Percy to make his own path. Was there bad blood between the two of them? Could that be the betrayal the prophecy is talking about?

"It doesn't matter," Percy finally says, setting his fist on the table. "Prophecies are never clear. Usually they don't make sense until it's too late. We should focus on getting to Spain and finding those ruins. Rachel said there'd be information about the weapon there."

Frank nods. "I'll set the course right away."

"Making a stand and fighting people sounds like there's going to be a lot of injuries. I'd better go take inventory of the infirmary." Will follows Frank out the doorway.

Beckendorf makes a comment about repairing some cannons and disappears, leaving just Percy and Annabeth. She watches the former carefully as he stares at the scattered maps on the table.

"Are your quests usually this difficult?" she asks.

He raises weary eyes to meet hers. "Always."

"So there's nothing to worry about, right?" Her voice sounds false even to her.

"This one is...personal." He traces his finger along the coastline of Spain.

"Family issues?"

His lips twist into a wry smile. "You could say that."

Annabeth isn't quite sure how to respond to that. She's been fortunate to have a relatively uncomplicated family. Sure, she's still sad about her dad's death, but she never really blamed her mother for remarrying. It's what society expects of a woman. And her stepfather has been good to them, so she can't complain about him.

They stand in silence for another minute before Annabeth begins to feel awkward. Obviously he's not in the mood for conversation right now. She steps out onto the deck, hoping the fresh air can stimulate her brain.

She thinks about what she knows of this crew and Percy. She has the feeling she's still missing some vital pieces of information, though. Then she thinks about Luke and her mother. How are they feeling right now? Is Luke searching for her? Did Ares ever send that ransom note? Do they think she's dead?

As much as she hates to admit it, she doesn't really miss them. Not yet, at least. She missed them dearly aboard Ares' ship, when she was thrown unceremoniously into the brig, but now that she's on Percy's ship with complete freedom and in the midst of an exciting - if dangerous - adventure, she finds that she barely thinks of them. Not that there was much to think about from her former life.

It hasn't even been a week since she was kidnapped, though, so maybe she just needs more time for it to really settle in. She'll probably be desperately homesick by the time she's finally sailing back.

At least she knows she's going to see Luke again. That painting in Rachel's cave had been so realistic. She'd drawn Luke and Annabeth as if she'd seen them in person before - even though she hadn't. Somehow she'd even managed to perfect Luke's mannerisms.

Rachel, the oracle. Annabeth settles her thoughts on the girl. Seeing the future isn't a gift Annabeth even thought was possible. And yet, the confidence with which Rachel spoke and those startlingly lifelike paintings in her cave had convinced Annabeth without a doubt that the girl could see the future.

If there are people who can see the future, then what else could there be? Annabeth had said that it wasn't possible for there to be a weapon with the power of the sea, but what if there is?

What if her entire notion of reality is wrong?

It's easy to pretend that myths don't exist when you're a high society lady in England. But that's not who or where she is now. Maybe there's a different reality, a different world on the sea. Maybe myths do exist here.

"We're not...normal pirates."

Annabeth has the feeling she's going to have her entire world view turned upside down by the time she returns home.