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

Author's Note: Apologies for the late update. I have completely lost track of the days. Fun story about this chapter: I actually went to Baelo Claudia last summer with my Spanish friend and her family when I living in Europe (I'm American) and admission is free if you're a citizen of the EU but you have to pay if you're a foreigner, but my friend's mom made up this lavish story to the guy at the ticket booth about how they adopted me and my paperwork just hadn't gone through and either he believed her or he just didn't have the energy to make a big deal about it because he let me in for free. Anyways, it's one of my favorite places in Spain and it's unbelievably gorgeous, 10/10 would recommend to visit if you ever get the chance

Chapter 5

It takes the Pax two weeks to sail to the southern tip of Spain.

Annabeth spends her days moving among the crew, learning as much about sailing as possible. Beckendorf walks her through his repairs, explaining why and how the damages happen and the different options he has for repairs. He also shows her some of his projects in progress down in his work area.

Some days she tags along with Will, who explains all the medicines and tools in the infirmary. Annabeth even works as his assistant when a mild sickness takes a brief run through the crew. He also teaches her basic survival first aid, though fortunately they haven't had to practice it on anyone.

Will is easy to talk to, and he tells his story as they reorganize the infirmary. His wealthy parents always made sure he had the best tutors growing up. He went to an established university by the age of sixteen and studied for two years. He was a prodigy and got kicked out because he challenged some of his professors on their medical practices. He jumped around from ship to ship until he ended up here.

"I've only been on this ship for a few months," he admits. "But Percy's the best captain I've ever served under. He trusts me to do my job and doesn't blame me if the results are less than desirable."

Annabeth also spends time in the navigation room with Frank, who teaches her the math behind setting routes and calculating speed, as well as how to use the stars for position.

"Any good captain or first mate worth his salt knows this," he tells her. "I don't really need to do it, though. Percy has perfect bearings."

"Perfect bearings?"

"He knows exactly where we are at any given time. He also knows exactly how fast we're going and how long it will take us to get to our destination."

"Is that a thing?" Annabeth asks. "Like photographic memory? Or a perfect sense of direction?"

Frank shrugs. "I've never heard of anyone else with his abilities."

"How do you know he's not making it up?"

"I do the math myself just in case and it always checks out. He hasn't been wrong yet."

Percy himself is distant the whole two weeks. He stands at the bow of the ship looking over the waves with a troubled expression on his face. Annabeth knows he's a lot more worried about the prophecy than he admitted.

He does occasionally step away from his perch to interact with the crew. One night, Will and a couple other sailors have a music night, and he stands at the edge of the audience, watching fondly as everyone sings raucously. Annabeth picks up on the lyrics quickly, singing things no proper lady should ever sing. The whole crew gets a kick out of it, and she loves being part of it.

Some days Percy and Frank gather at the top deck and have hushed conversations. From time to time, Beckendorf joins them.

Most surprisingly is Percy's new morning routine. He forces Annabeth to train with him for an hour as the sun is rising. He's a good teacher, and she builds her knife skills from the basics Luke had taught her.

They make port once in Lisbon, Portugal, to replenish supplies. Annabeth tags along with Will as they scour the city for some herbs and medicines he's running low on. Since Annabeth doesn't have any proper dresses and she doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself, she pulls her hair up in a bandana and plays as a boy. She and Will have the same tan skin and blonde hair, so they easily pass as cousins.

The morning when Baelo Claudia comes into view, she's reading a book Frank loaned her by a Chinese philosopher. The translation is rough at best, but it's still fascinating.

They anchor the ship a half mile out and she, Percy, and Frank take a small rowboat to the beach. The sand is bright white and fine, the softest sand Annabeth has ever touched. The sun is shining brightly, beating down upon them. Annabeth wishes she had brought a hat instead of a bandana. Facing the south, she can see the coast of Africa in the distance; when the sun hits just right, she can even see the vague silhouettes of huts and ships along the coast.

The beach makes a long curve, the western side jutting out into the sea in a pile of rocks covered with trees. The trees are such a vibrant green and so dense that they look more like a painting than real objects. Directly ahead of them is a field with wild, tall grass with rocks and boulders sticking up.

No, not rocks and boulders; ruins.

Most of the ruins are barely sticking out of the ground, buried by years of sand deposits. Most prominent is what appears to be a wall and a few circular shaped ruins right on the edge of the beach. A hundred meters beyond them is a rectangular shape composed of well-preserved pillars. In the very middle of them is a statue on a pedestal. Several other pedestals with half or completely destroyed pedestals are arranged inside.

Percy sets his hands on the first wall they come across. His brow furrows.

"What is it?" Frank asks, his hand wrapping around his bow. He has a quiver of arrows and a golden-tipped spear strapped to his back. Annabeth wonders at his choice of old-fashioned weapons, but she doesn't ask.

"I can feel traces of salt on these ruins. Not just sea spray - this salt is more concentrated."

"This must be the salt factory Rachel mentioned," Annabeth says. She forges ahead of the boys, stepping around half-buried ruins and heading straight for the standing pedestals.

There's a slight incline, and when Ananbeth reaches the top, she sees a huge semi-circular shaped ruin another hundred meters ahead of them. That must be the amphitheater. Which would make this…

"A temple," Percy says, catching up to her. They stand at the entrance to what once was the center of a small Roman city. "To the gods."

Annabeth had read about Roman mythologies and had seen pictures of their temples, but she never imagined that she would be standing in one, especially one as well-preserved as this. She also finds it crazy that the Romans managed to expand this far - farther, even, all the way to her home country of England.

Percy walks straight down the middle, passing the various pedestals until he stands in front of the one intact statue. Annabeth counts eleven pedestals as she follows him.

"One for each of the Olympians," Percy says. He's paused in front of the one on the left-hand side of the head statue. Nothing is left but a pedestal and a pair of feet, but he stares up as if he can see the phantom of it.

"This is Jupiter, king of the gods," Frank says, staring up at the intact statue. "Of course his would survive."

Percy is still staring at the broken one, although Annabeth can't fathom what's so interesting about a pair of eroded feet.

"So...what are we looking for, exactly?"

"I'm not sure," Percy admits. He kneels down and runs his fingers around the crevices of the statue. "But if it's anywhere, it will be here."

"Any reason for that statue in particular?"

"It was Poseidon, god of the sea."

Annabeth remembers what Rachel had called Percy when her eyes had glowed green: Perseus, son of the sea. And Percy had told her that it was "something about it being part of my blood".

So Percy's a pirate who considers the sea part of his blood. Annabeth would hazard a guess that he's an orphan, except he had mentioned his father a few times - though there had always been a hesitation, so it seems like his father is distant to the point of basically not being in his life.

Maybe that's why he sounded bitter when he spoke of his brother going to work for his father. Perhaps his brother is more favored than he is, and he's jealous.

Annabeth is about to offer to check the salt mines when a chunk of the statue base crumbles away, revealing a small chamber. Percy sticks his first two fingers in and carefully pulls out an ancient scroll.

He gingerly unravels it. Faded black ink creates the outline of a three-pointed weapon with a long handle. There are words written in a strange alphabet which Annabeth doesn't know, but she guesses is Ancient Greek.

"What is it?" she asks.

Percy frowns. "Poseidon's trident. The source of the power of the sea."

Annabeth raises an eyebrow, thinking of the line of the prophecy. "Power of the sea?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's impossible. This can't be the weapon we're looking for."

"Because it doesn't exist?"

He looks up at her, surprised. "I didn't say that it doesn't exist."

Before she can ask him what he means by that, Frank comes running down the hill from where he'd been scouting ahead.

"We need to go," he breathes heavily. "Now."

Percy rolls up the scroll and tucks it in his waistband. His hand drifts to the hilt of his sword. "What is it?"

Frank gulps. "I'm not sure exactly, and I don't want to get a closer look."

Annabeth wonders what could scare a guy like Frank, but she doesn't want to hang around to see for herself. She follows the boys as they begin to run down the hill back toward the beach.

Halfway to the beach, she glances behind her as she runs. Her next step sends her straight into the ground as her foot sinks into a hole hidden by the tall grass. She curses as she climbs back to her feet. Both Percy and Frank run back, Percy with his sword in his hand and Frank holding a notched arrow loosely in his bow.

"You okay?" Percy asks, his eyes darting around.

"I'm fine." Annabeth winces as she puts weight on her ankle. It doesn't hurt enough for her to think it's broken, but she isn't about to try jumping around on it, either. "Let's get out of here."

Frank swallows. "Too late for that."

A few meters away, where the ruins of the salt mines are, strange blob-like creatures covered in white crystals rise up out of the grass. Behind them, the temple with the pedestals is overrun by more of the same monsters. They raise stubby arms out, and deadly-looking crystal weapons grow out of their grip.

Annabeth blinks several times, trying to make sure she's not imagining the horror in front of her. She even twists her ankle enough for sharp pain to run through her body, but those terrible things are still there.

"What...are those?" she asks, her voice shaking. She pulls out her knife and holds it in front of her, but the weapon is shaking in her grip.

"Those are álas matódi - salt spirits," Percy answers. "I've heard of them, but in all my time at sea I've never encountered them."

"Another monster you can check off your list," Frank mutters. His eyes scan the situation, getting a read on the number of enemies and an idea of the layout of the land. "Do you think they can climb?"

"I sincerely hope not," Percy replies.

"And I hope you're right, because my whole plan depends on that." Frank slips his arrow back in the quiver and pulls out his spear instead. "I'm going to charge out to that wall ahead and climb up. I should have a clear line of sight to pick them off with my arrows from there. Hopefully I can draw them away from you two so you guys can make a run for the ship."

"Good plan, but instead of running for the ship, Annabeth and I will cut them down as they try to chase you. If you can draw enough of them away for us to take out of the ones surrounding us, we should be able to handle the numbers."

Frank nods once. "Got it."

The salt spirits are closing in. Frank swings his spear around expertly and then takes off running, vaulting clear over the heads of the creatures. They growl - Annabeth never thought salt would growl - and begin slithering his way as he runs for the ruins of the wall at the edge of the beach. The group behind them from the temple takes their place, closing in around her and Percy.

"Remember what we've been practicing," Percy says.

"I always imagined my enemy would be human," she shoots back, trying to keep her voice from betraying her fear.

"Then this should be easier."

Percy steps forward and swings his sword, cutting through the first salt figure. It explodes into regular-sized salt particles. He moves on to the next one.

Annabeth stands at his back. A salt monster stabs its crystal blade forward and she stops it an inch from her chest with the blade of her knife. She pushes back and then darts forward quickly, stabbing the creature in the shapeless face. It crumbles to salt dust.

The small victory boosts her confidence, and she acts more aggressively with the next salt spirit. It doesn't stand a chance as she slices off half its blade and then slashes through its gut. With each kill she feels stronger.

The last creature disintegrates and she and Percy turn as one to check on Frank's progress. He's standing at the top of the wall, shooting his arrow and taking down one (or two or three) monsters with each shot, but he's running out of arrows. And, as it turns out, the salt spirits can climb. Three of them are slowly creeping up towards his space, and a mob of five of them are attempting to grab footholds at the bottom.

Annabeth and Percy sprint to his aid. They easily dispatch the few on the ground and Frank knocks out the three climbers. He lets the last one reach the top and then he kicks it solidly in the chest. It breaks apart mid-air.

In the distance, more of the creatures are rising. Frank swings down from the wall and they race to the beach, pushing out the boat and jumping in.

"If they can swim, I swear to the gods…" Percy mumbles, but the salt creatures either can't swim or they don't think the pirates are worth chasing because they fade back into the tall grass.

Annabeth doesn't fully catch her breath until they're back aboard the Pax.

"What just happened?" she demands.

"Apparently the salt spirits are very protective of those ruins," Percy replies, pulling the scroll back out.

"But how - what - "

"That's what I meant when I said we weren't normal pirates. We don't fight other pirates for their treasure or pillage cities. We go on quests for magic treasures and items."

Annabeth tries to keep her cool, though her mind is actually exploding. "Magic?"

"How do you think Rachel can see the future? Did you think that prophecy was metaphorically talking about the power of the sea?" Percy shakes his head. "Magic is real and it's all around us. People see what they believe, and most people don't believe in magic, so they don't see it. But if you look hard enough, you'll find it."

Somehow, Annabeth believes him. She doesn't think he's crazy, even though by all rights she should. Maybe the salt spirit attack sobered her up enough to have an open mind.

No wonder he didn't want to try and explain this to her earlier.

"So all the myths and legends...they're all real?"

Percy nods. "Most of them, yes. Most myths and legends are written by people who got glimpses of the reality of magic but didn't fully understand it. The more myths, the more likely it's real."

"So…" Annabeth racks her brain for a few common ones. "What about mermaids?"

"Real."

"Sea monsters?"

"A lot nastier than those salt spirits, and much more difficult to kill."

"Faeries?"

"What kind do you want to know about? Nymphs? Naiads? Aurae?"

Her mind spins. "So what about religion? Which one is real?"

"They all are."

"How is that possible?"

"As I said before, people interpret reality and magic differently. Different religions believe in many different gods, who simply appear in different ways and go by different names. Religions with one God believe that he can be in many places at once, which is how other religions interpret their many gods - or the other way around. People also pick and choose what they believe in based off their own experiences."

"So when we were talking about the trident...it really does exist? A weapon, used by the god Poseidon, to control the seas?"

Percy nods. "I've seen it myself. Though if you ask Frank, he'd say it's used by Neptune - he prefers the Roman names for the gods. And if you ask Raj - " He nods towards a sailor who hails from India - "he'd call him Varuna. Itami over there would call him Suiten."

Annabeth understands now. Different cultures interpret the same things in different ways and give them different names - but it's all the same magic.

"But you said that it couldn't be the trident."

"The trident isn't missing. If the trident was missing, word would get around. Symbols of the gods don't just disappear."

Percy heads into the navigation room and spreads out the parchment scroll on the table. He mutters to himself as he underlines the Ancient Greek with his fingers.

"You can read that?" Annabeth asks, watching him.

"Yeah," he says distractedly. His forehead creases and he traces one line to the small circle at the base of the prongs. "Huh. I never realized there was something there before." He straightens up as he moves to the side so she can get a good look. "See that little circle? It says it's a pearl from the deepest part of the ocean."

"What does that have to do with the weapon mentioned in the prophecy."

"Nothing. I don't know." Percy rubs his face. "I feel like we're no closer than when we started."

"So what do we do next?"

Percy exhales deeply, staring past her shoulder and out the open door. "We find someone who does know."