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 6
"So do all monsters turn to salt when you destroy them?"
Annabeth steps back as Percy swings his sword at her. She side-steps and lunges in with her knife, aiming for his side, but he recovers quickly and blocks her blade.
"Usually they turn to golden dust, but I've seen a couple monsters turn to sand or clay."
Annabeth ducks under a swing of his sword. "What kind of monsters have you fought?"
"Would you like the list in chronological or alphabetized order?"
She knocks away his blade. "That many?"
"The first monster I ever killed was half-man, half-bull. Have you ever heard the legend of the Minotaur?"
His blade stops an inch from her neck, but Annabeth isn't paying attention to their sparring session anymore. She's staring at him, her knife held loosely at her side.
"You fought the Minotaur?"
He lowers his sword and shrugs. "Why not? It was hunting me down. It - " His voice catches. "It killed my mom. I still have the half of the horn that I sheared off in my cabin. Sometimes when you kill a monster, parts of it remain as a trophy. Like when I killed the Nemean Lion and its impenetrable hide remained as my spoil."
"I thought your first monster was the Fury," Beckdendorf says, sitting up on his heels and taking a reprieve from the railing he's repairing. "The Minotaur was the second."
Percy snaps his fingers. "Right. I almost forgot about her."
"What's a Fury?"
"And old bat/hag lady with wings and nasty talons. Works for the god of the Underworld. Hades, as he's commonly known."
Annabeth returns back a comment he made earlier. "You said the Minotaur was hunting you - why?"
"Some people smell good to monsters. The more you believe in the magic part of the world, the more dangerous it becomes. The Fury attacked me first, and after that incident I started to do more research into myths and legends and I paid more attention to the world around me. As I started to believe more, monsters became more aware of me."
"So people who don't believe - the monsters just ignore them?"
"For the most part. Although sometimes people get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time - I'm sure you've heard the legends of sirens and mermaids."
"If the monsters ignore normal people, then why did the Minotaur kill your mother?"
Percy suddenly becomes very interested in his sword hilt. He picks at a few loose strings of leather coming unraveled. "My mother...she did believe in the myths. She saw the world for what it really was. She tried to protect me by hiding it from me, but some people...some people are drawn into this world. Some of us are born with great - and often tragic - destinies. No amount of ignorance can protect us forever."
Monsters, gods, destinies...Annabeth starts putting the pieces together.
"So you're like some sort of Ancient Greek hero. Like Odysseus, or Hercules, or Theseus."
A wry smile spreads across his face. "I'm exactly like them," he agrees.
"You said you saw the trident before - have you met Poseidon, then? Or any other gods?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Many of our quests are issued by gods or involve dealings with them. After a while, they just seem like jerks."
The sky thunders. Annabeth looks up in surprise, for there are no storm clouds in sight. When she turns back to Percy, he's glaring at the sky, as if challenging it to strike him down.
"If they're gods, then why do they need you to run errands for them? Why can't they just snap their fingers and have it done?"
"The gods have to abide by many ancient laws. That's why they need heroes to do their work for them. But I don't like the term hero - it's over glorified. A hero is someone who makes a real difference in the world. We just fight battles that gods either can't or are too lazy to fight themselves. That's why we call ourselves pirates."
"You kill monsters," Annabeth points out. "I think that's pretty heroic."
"Is it? Did you feel heroic when those salt monsters attacked? Because when a monster attacks me, I just feel like I'm fighting for my life. There's nothing heroic about it. Besides, we don't really kill monsters. Monsters can't die, not permanently, at least. When you slash them to dust, they get sent to Tartarus, the deepest Hell, where they eventually reform and return to the world."
"So...what's the point of killing them?"
"Other than to stay alive another day?" Percy shrugs. "If I find out, I'll tell you."
Annabeth's initial excitement at the idea of this quest is burning out quickly. She feels bad for Percy and his crew - they're fighting a battle that they can't win. At best, they survive all the monster attacks and die of natural causes. At worst, they could die any minute.
In the pirate museum in London, Annabeth had read that the average age of pirates is early twenties. Only a few weeks aboard Percy's ship and she understands why. This is a life of adventure and glory, but it's a short life.
Annabeth also realizes that she's past the point of turning back. She's seen the monsters. She believes in the tales. She'll never be a regular person again. Maybe like Percy's mother, she'll live peacefully for a few decades before the monsters catch up, but at some point, they eventually, inevitably, will.
Can she even go back to her former life? Would she be putting Luke and her parents and everyone she knows in danger?
She decides not to worry about that now. Right now her worry is about staying alive. Learning how to use her dagger so she can protect herself against monsters is her most important task. Maybe if she gets good enough, she won't have to worry about monsters attacking her - she can be like Percy and just kill anything that comes for her and her family.
"How long have you been doing this for?" she asks. "When did you kill your first monster?"
"I was twelve years old. I joined some other crews, met some great people - like Beckendorf, learned to fight and proved myself. My father gave me the Pax when I was sixteen. That's also when I met Frank."
Since he was twelve. Annabeth was still playing with dolls when Percy began fighting for his life. How is she going to catch up to him in a few weeks?
She won't. She'll just have to work as hard and she can and learn as much as possible in the little time she has. When Annabeth agreed to join Percy on this quest, she was looking for a little excitement, not a whole new reality. She still intends to return to her old life one day.
She made a promise to Luke that she intends to fulfill.
They dock at a small harbor in Northern Africa. Annabeth once again pulls up her hair to pass as a man before she, Percy, and Beckendorf begin their search.
"Who are we looking for again?" Annabeth asks as she ducks under an awning.
"Nereus. He's a son of the sea who has the gift of prophecy."
"Like Rachel."
"Not exactly." Percy weaves through a few side streets, looking along the ground for something, though Annabeth isn't sure what. "Nereus knows everything. Legend is, if you can catch him, he'll answer one question."
"So you're going to ask him where this weapon is."
"Exactly." Percy finds a pile of rags and old clothing next to a homeless man. He pulls out a handful of coins and shows them to the man. "Can I have the jacket and a scarf?"
Beckendorf translates. The man glances at the coins in his hand greedily, then looks at Percy like he's crazy. When Percy's expression doesn't change, the man nods and waves his hand out. Percy takes the most ragged clothes he can find and then backtracks to the harbor, Annabeth and Beckendorf in tow.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Annabeth asks, raising an eyebrow as Percy dons his new apparel.
"It's to blend in. We're not the first people who have tried to extort him."
"Are you sure your smell won't drive him away?"
Percy shrugs. "Apparently he's supposed to smell even worse, so I think I'll be fine."
Beckendorf picks off a clump of fuzz and who-knows-what from the shoulder of the jacket. "You know I have your back, Percy...which should tell you how much I care about you because these clothes are absolutely disgusting."
Percy leads them along the beach. Annabeth and Beckendorf hang back a ways, letting him get a good lead.
"You know, he doesn't make a bad beggar," she says, her hand on her hip.
Beckendorf gives her a sideways look. "You aren't going to pass as a man if you stand like a girl."
Annabeth drops her hand and hunches over her shoulders. "Better?"
Beckendorf is looking over her shoulder now, where Percy is slowly approaching an old man sunning himself. He's dressed even worse than Percy, his white beard wild and haggard and his clothes barely more than threads held together by grime and seaweed. He smiles contentedly as he shifts in his sleep.
"That man knows everything...and he just lays around in the sun? What a waste of a gift."
"There are a lot of crappy people in this world," Beckendorf agrees. "But the gift of prophecy...well, I think calling it a gift is a stretch. It's more like a curse."
Before Annabeth can ask him what he means, Percy jumps the man. She and Beckendorf exchange glances before sprinting through the sand to catch up.
Percy and the man roll across the sand. For an old, fat guy, Nereus seems awfully strong. He slams Percy's head against the ground and waddles to his feet. Before he can take two strides, Percy leaps up and tackles him again, plowing a shallow trough through the sand.
Annabeth and Beckendorf skid to a stop two meters away.
"I don't have any money!" the man cries in English. "Please, help!"
"I'm not here for money," Percy grumbles, his face red with strain. "I'm here for information!"
The old man wails. "Why do heroes always pick on me!"
"Because you know everything!"
They roll into the surf. Percy's eyes widen. "Oh, no! Not the water!"
Nereus grins in triumph and rolls them both into the water until they're both submerged. Annabeth runs to the edge of the surf to try and find them, but they've disappeared under the waves.
"He's such an idiot!" she exclaims, unable to hold in her nervous energy. How long has he been under now? A minute? Two?
"Is he?" Beckendorf asks, a mysterious gleam in his eyes. He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting patiently.
Annabeth immediately picks up that he knows something she doesn't, but she has no idea what. She paces along the beach, her eyes scanning the horizon.
Suddenly, about a hundred meters out to sea, a killer whale bursts out of the water, Percy straddling its back and holding onto its dorsal fin. He waves and grins at them before disappearing back under the waves.
"Was that - did he - what?"
Beckendorf watches the spot with interest. "Huh. Nereus must be a shape-shifter. That's a gift some descendents of the sea have."
A large wave washes their way and Percy emerges from it, hauling Nereus by the collar of his shirt. He dumps him on the beach at Annabeth and Beckendorf's feet. Annabeth inspects him for signs of injury, but Percy isn't even breathing hard.
In fact, he's not even wet.
Annabeth isn't sure what shocks her more: the shape-shifting old man or Percy walking out of the sea without a water droplet on his skin.
"Wonderful," Nereus grumbles, staring up at them. "An audience for my humiliation. So, what do you want? The normal deal? I answer a question and you let me go?"
"Sounds reasonable to me." Percy crosses his arms. "We're looking for weapon with the power of the seas." He digs into his pocket and unfolds the parchment they'd found in Baelo Claudia. "Our source told us that this would give us a hint, but I know it isn't the trident. So what else could be the weapon?"
Nereus examines the parchment and grins, showing off a row of crooked, rotten teeth. Annabeth notices for the first time how terrible he smells - like dead fish lying in the sun for weeks. It's hard for her to avoid plugging her nose.
"That's easy," he says. "The answer is right there."
"It's not the trident," Percy repeats.
Nereus glances at the water longingly. "We had a deal. I gave you your answer."
Percy raises an eyebrow. "You want to try and make a break for the sea?" His hand drifts to the hilt of his sword, Nereus' eyes tracking the movement carefully. "I'm not here for tricks. I want a clear answer."
Nereus sighs. "Fine. The trident isn't the source of the power of the seas - it's just a harness to focus that power. The source is kept in the trident, but it can be removed." He taps the parchment aggressively with his finger. "Read it again, fish boy. Now our deal is complete."
This time he's too quick for Percy. He morphs into a goldfish and leaps into the sea as the tide is washing back out. Percy washes the water recede without a word, but his eyes swirl like a hurricane.
"Well, that was a waste of time," he mumbles, shoving the parchment into his pocket. He stripes off his ratty clothes and dumps them on the sand. "Let's get back to the ship."
Annabeth's mind spins as they trek back to the dock where the ship is harbored. She turns over Nereus' words in her head, as well as what Percy had said when they first got the parchment.
The barest hint of an idea begins taking shape. She catches Percy as he stalks up to Frank to report their encounter.
"I don't think he was tricking us," she says, the pieces falling into place. "Pull out the parchment."
He unrolls it and holds it in front of them. "I just see the trident."
"Which Nereus said is just a way to channel the energy. But he said the source was kept inside the trident." Annabeth points to the small circle at the base of the prongs. "Did you say that was a pearl?"
"Yeah. From the deepest part of the ocean."
Annabeth steps back and watches him, waiting for him to make the same connection she did. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly realization dawns on his face. His eyes widen, just like they did when he had the idea to manipulate Nereus into rolling them into the water.
"You think the pearl is the source of power?"
"Nereus said it could be removed. You said the trident wasn't missing, so maybe the pearl is. Poseidon or whatever sea god either replaced it with a fake one or covered it up so that no one would realize that he lost the source of power for his weapon."
"But he isn't my client…" Percy's eyes widen even further. "I'm being played," he says, slowly at first and then with a rush of anger. "I'm being used! My client wants that power for himself. Somehow he found out about it going missing, and he thought he could con me into retrieving it for him!"
"So don't. Tell him you couldn't find it and move on to the next god or spirit or whatever that requests your services."
Percy shakes his head. "No, I have to find it. The symbols of power of the gods - those shouldn't be floating around for anyone to stumble upon. Especially not this one. I have to find it and return it to my - to Poseidon."
"Why? I thought you didn't like being used by the gods. Why do you care if something bad happens to them?"
He paces around the deck. "The gods aren't great. They aren't even good, usually. But they're better than a lot of other things in the world. Besides, if I don't fix this now, it's going to cause even more problems for me to clean up later."
"Just tell them no when they ask."
He stares out at the sea ahead, his sea-green eyes sparkling in the sun. "It's not that simple. Not this time."
"You can't say no," Annabeth realizes. "You are a hero, even if you don't want to admit it."
Percy rolls up the scroll and clenches it in his fist. He turns to face her, but there's a playful smile on his face. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?"
"Some people can shape-shift into killer whales. Some people can kill monsters. I can read between the lines." Annabeth returns the smile.
"Alright, Wise Girl, so tell me where we can find this pearl, then." He raises an eyebrow.
Annabeth racks her brains. The answer comes quicker than she expected. "If the pearl can be removed, then it could have been knocked loose from the trident, right? And Poseidon's not just the god of the sea, he's also the god of hurricanes, so maybe it got knocked loose while he was using the trident to create a storm."
Percy nods. "Good thinking. We'll have to ask around when we're at ports, find out when and where the latest storms have happened. For now, we'll set course for Greece."
"Because that's where Poseidon's home is?" Annabeth guesses.
"You know, Annabeth, I'm glad we're on the same side. I wouldn't bet against you any day."
She watches as he steps past her to talk to Frank. Percy may speak highly of her, but she doesn't think she's anything compared to him. In the short time she's known him, she's seen him fight pirates, kill monsters, and win a wrestling match with a shape-shifter - underwater.
Annabeth has the feeling she's only scratched the surface of his abilities. There's something dark and dangerous underneath that quick smile and those bright eyes. He commands respect with his crew despite his easy going nature, he scared the nastiest pirate Annabeth has ever had the displeasure of meeting even though he's half as small, and he isn't afraid to pick a fight with supernatural beings.
Percy Jackson lives in a world of danger, magic, and beasts and he walks untouched. There's more to him than meets the eye - even that of a trained observer.
She isn't about to start betting against him, either.