AN:
OverLordRevan: No, High Tide doesn't lose the abilities.
Ronnie R15: Not yet.
I came to in the middle of the creek, surrounded by concerned faces and Chiron staring gravely down at me. The first thing I heard was Annabeth's voice saying "-watch this." She was pointing at the wounds on my chest, which I could feel closing. I stood, swaying dizzily, only to be caught by an Apollo camper next to me. The feeling faded as we all watched the hellhound dissolve into shadows and sink into the ground, leaving a single dagger-sized fang, the arrows it had been shot with, and High Tide behind.
"Go on. Take up the spoils, you slew it. Be careful, a hellhound's saliva has a pain-inducing venom that activates on contact with blood." Chiron advised.
I carefully picked up the tooth and my trident, and as I straightened, everyone kneeled around me, even the Ares campers I had just beat up.
"Hail, Percy Jackson. Son of Poseidon, who is the Father of Horses, the Stormbringer, the Earthshaker, and the God of the Oceans." Chiron said loudly.
"HAIL!" The rest of the campers shouted.
"Oh, get up!" I yelled, gesturing for them to stand.
As everyone got to their feet, a net of lightning flashed across the sky followed by the loud boom of thunder.
ON OLYMPUS, THIRD PERSON POV
The gods had gathered to watch the Capture the Flag game in the theatre Hephaestus and Athena had built. The games weren't only a matter of pride for the campers, it was also one for the gods. Ares cheered as his kids beat Percy up, grumbled angrily when Percy did the same to them, and made a wordless noise of rage when he broke Clarisse's spear. Hermes cheered when Luke sprinted across the creek with the boundary, and Athena laughed when Percy confronted Annabeth about her plan. Poseidon had paled when the hellhound had attacked Percy, and visibly relaxed when he stood back up.
When Poseidon claimed Percy, Zeus made a noise like a wounded animal, stood and drew his back-up lightning bolt. Right as he cast, Poseidon's Trident slammed the bolt upwards, making it flicker across the sky.
"WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO TRY AND KILL MY SON!?" Poseidon roared at Zeus.
"I HAVE EVERY RIGHT! I AM YOUR KING!" Zeus thundered back.
"DID I TRY AND KILL THE CHILD BORN OF YOUR OATH-BREAKING, BROTHER? NO, I DID NOT! THAT WAS ALL THE FATES AND HADES!" Poseidon's anger crashed through the room like a wave, making everyone tense.
"Fine. I will not smite him unless he enters my domain or is proven guilty of the theft. I will send appropriate monsters to test him, occasionally. Just as you have done to my children in the past." Zeus grumbled.
Poseidon looked so offended, it was likely another fight would start right there, but Zeus just flashed out of the theatre.
BACK IN CAMP HALF-BLOOD
The next morning, I was moved to Cabin Three. It was nice, with walls that reflected the light like oily water, and a mural on the floor that looked just like the seafloor from in the water. The ten bunk beds all had light blue silk sheets that were turned down, and everything had a slight layer of dust, like nobody had been in there in a long time, which I guess they hadn't.
I didn't have to share with anyone, and I had plenty of room for all my stuff, which practically consisted of the toiletries Luke stole for me, a spare pair of clothes from the camp store, the Minotaur horn, the hellhound fang, High Tide, and my new pair of knives. I got to pick my own activities, sit at my own table, and call lights out whenever I wanted, and didn't have to listen to anyone besides Chiron and Mr. D.
I was absolutely miserable. People were treating me like I had some rare disease, and right after I had started to fit in, too. People stopped talking when I approached, and whispered when I walked away. Some people even actively walked away when I approached.
Nobody was talking about the hellhound, at least to me, but I knew that was one of the things they were whispering about. It sent two messages, one from the sender/summoner of the hellhound, and another from my father, who they had actually tricked into sending it. The first was that monsters would stop at nothing to attack me, even by the barriers of a supposedly demigod-safe area. The second, from my father, was that I was his son, and it had changed the balance of power all over camp and probably on Olympus to.
Nobody would duel with me except for Clarisse and Luke, not after what I had done to the Ares Cabin at the creek, so my sword and trident lessons became one-on-one. Luke pressed me harder than before, and was definitely not afraid to beat me up in doing so. Neither was Clarisse. "You'll need as much training as you can get." They both promised as I asked for a rest break in either lesson. Then they'd make me do like fifty more repetitions of whatever we were doing. Clarisse tried to teach me wrestling, and I learned holds and moves, but I still couldn't hold her without water's help. She still couldn't grab me either. Annabeth still taught me Ancient Greek in the early mornings, but she was disgruntled and would always be muttering about my father and quests and plans. Of course, Chiron still taught me archery, though he said that there wasn't much more he could teach me without a paired bow.
I knew somebody at camp must've actively disliked me, because the night after Capture the Flag there was a newspaper on the floor of my cabin. It talked about the car accident, and implied that somehow, I, a twelve year old, could have something to do with my mother's disappearance through foul play. There was a phone number to call if you had any information, and it was circled in a thick, black sharpie line.
I threw it away and went to sleep. That night, I had my worst dream yet.
It was on a sandy beach, and there was a city built among low hills.
A hundred feet down the beach, two bearded men in flowing Greek style tunics, one trimmed in green and the other in green, fought on the beach like old style wrestlers, kicking, punching, grappling and headbutting. With every connection, the storm raging around us grew worse, the rain intensifying, the lightning flashing and the wind howling as huge waves pounded the beach and hills.
The one in green repeatedly shouted "Give it back! Give it back!" Like a kindergartner who'd had his favorite toy taken away.
I had to stop them from fighting, but I didn't know why. Every step I took down the beach was harder and harder, the winds raging against me, like they were actively trying to throw me away from the pair. I couldn't reach them, so I yelled. "Stop! You mustn't fight!"
Deep under the earth, a dark, heavy, bass voice under the earth chuckled. It was an evil sound, setting my nerves tingling and my hair raising. "Come here, little hero." It crooned. "Come here!" It commanded.
The beach under my feet split open and I fell into the crack.
I woke up, sitting up in my bed in the dark cabin, quite sure that I was falling.
Outside my window, dark clouds rolled over us, and thunder could be heard echoing in the distance. A storm was brewing, that I hadn't dreamed.
Someone knocked on the door of the cabin, right after I heard a clopping sound, hooves on the steps of the cabin.
"COme in." I called, raising my voice to be heard over an especially large boom.
Grover pushed open the door, trotted inside a little ways, and announced "Mr. D wants to see you."
"Why?" I asked.
"He wants to kill...I mean, he'd better tell you. he'll explain it better." He answered.
I got dressed and followed him down the path, quite sure I was in trouble.
I mean, my father swore an oath to not have kids. Me existing was a crime. For the past two days, I'd been expecting a summons to the Big House for Mr. D to deliver the Council's verdict.
Looking out at the sound, the clouds were so dark they might as well be the night sky. A curtain of rain moved towards us from the ocean, and the darker clouds pushed away the grey ones already over us.
"Do we need an umbrella?" I asked Grover.
"No. It never rains here unless we want it to." He answered. But he looked nervously at the storm, so knew he was worried to.
"WHat's up with the storm, then?" I asked, gesturing at the huge cloud bank sealing us in like a coffin lid.
"It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does." He hesitated though, just like with Mrs. Dodds, so I knew he either wasn't sure or he was outright lying.
As we passed the volleyball pit, I noticed some of the Apollo campers and some satyrs playing an early morning game, but they kept glancing at the storm as well. On our other side, Mr. D's two kids walked among the strawberries, encouraging their growth. They were watching the storm as well.
When we got to the porch of the Big House, Mr. D was wearing the same leopard-print shirt he'd been wearing when I arrived, drinking a Diet Coke. Chiron was sitting across from him in his wheelchair. They were playing pinochle, against two invisible opponents, so I figured they were nymphs of some sort.
Mr. D studied his cards as we approached. "Well, well. Perry Johnson, our new celebrity." He said, without looking away from his cards.
I waited respectfully, staying silent.
"Well, come here. Don't expect me to kowtow because old Barnacle-Beard is your father." Thunder boomed and lightning flashed at that comment, causing Mr. D to mutter "Blah, Blah, Blah." under his breath while still studying the cards.
Chiron studied his cards, and Grover was nearly cowering against the railing of the porch.
"If I had my way, I'd set you on fire at a molecular level and then sweep up the ashes. Save ourselves lots of trouble. Chiron, however, along with most of the Council, think that would be against my mission here at this camp, which is to protect all of you little brats from harm." He looked me straight in the eyes, making sure I noted the serious look on his face.
"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm." Chiron said mildly, still studying his cards.
"Nonsense. He wouldn't feel a thing." Mr. D waved Chiron's comment off. "Nevertheless, I have agreed to restrain myself. I've been contemplating turning you into a dolphin instead, send you back to your father."
"Mr. D-" Chiron warned, a tone I'd never heard before in his voice.
"Oh, alright, you grumpy old horse. There's one more option, but it's deadly foolishness. Chiron will explain it to you." He turned to Chiron before continuing. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I return, I'll turn him into an Atlantic Bottlenose. Do you understand?" He turned back to me. "Perseus Jackson, if you have any sense at all, you'll see that's a much better choice than what Chiron feels you must do." He picked up a playing card and twisted it into a hard plastic card, a security pass. He rose and turned the card at the same time as he snapped his fingers, disappearing in a wind that smelled of crushed grapes.
The cards the invisible players had been holding dropped to the table as Chiron set his down, revealing a winning hand. I felt two somethings go past, obviously the invisible players.
"Sit, Percy, please. You too, Grover." Chiron said, smiling at us. It looked strained, though, and tired, as if he hadn't been sleeping well. After we had sat down, he asked "Percy, what did you make of the hellhound?"
"Well, it scared me. I'm lucky to be alive. And someone was using it to send two messages." I answered, wanting to be as truthful as I could.
"Go on." He looked interested.
"The first message was that someone would stop at nothing and be stopped by nothing to attack me, even by something like the camp's borders. A hellhound does not enter the camp so easily, even under shadow travel. It had help, or, in reality, was helping someone. It was summoned, or let through the borders, or transported here under godly power or something similar. The second message was one they actually tricked my father into helping, which was that I was his son and he had broken the oath." I explained.
"Mhm." Chiron hummed, obviously thinking.
"If none of the gods are guilty of whatever's making Zeus and Poseidon fight, then I'd say someone's trying to pit the Olympians against each other." I continued.
"Why would you say that?" Annabeth's voice asked, revealing her sitting in the last chair as she took off her baseball cap.
"A house divided cannot stand." I quoted.
She nodded. "Abraham Lincoln."
"Yes, and it's true. Don't the Olympians have all kinds of enemies? I mean, monsters in general, the Titans they overthrew so long ago, and others? Wasn't there a group of giants who tried to overthrow Olympus when it was very young? Something about Gaea waking and retaliating for the gods destroying the titans' rule, so she had some new kids with Tartarus or something?" I replied, thinking back to the bedtime stories my mother had made out of the Greek myths.
Annabeth and Chiron were both obviously thinking furiously.
"Anyway." Chiron said abruptly. "You will meet far worse than the hellhound before you're done."
"Done with what?" I asked warily.
"Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?" He answered.
"You haven't even told me what it is yet." I pointed out.
"The details are always the hard part." Chiron sighed, obviously worried.
"My father and Zeus are fighting over something. Something besides me. Something valuable that was stolen." I guessed.
"How did you know that?" Chiron had an intense look on his face as he sat forward in his wheel chair.
"Well, the weird weather since Christmas. It's almost like the sea and sky are fighting. Annabeth overheard something about a theft, and I've been having these dreams." I explained.
"I knew it." Grover practically crowed.
"Hush, satyr." Chiron commanded.
"But it is his quest! It must be!" Grover said excitedly.
"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron said, stroking his beard. "Whether or not it is your quest, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst fight in centuries. And yes, it is over a theft. To be precise, the theft of a lightning bolt."
Annabeth gasped.
"W-what?" I asked nervously.
"Do not take this matter lightly, child. It is not some tinfoil zigzag you would see in an elementary school play. I am speaking of a two-foot long cylinder of cast celestial bronze, capped on either end with god-level explosives." He snapped.
"Oh." I said eloquently.
"Zeus' master bolt, the first one from which all others are patterned. This was the first weapon made by the Elder Cyclopes in service of the gods. It toppled Kronos from his first throne and blew the top off Mt. Etna, the site of the first Titan fortress. At fullest power, it makes mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."
"Oh." I repeated. "And it's missing?"
"Stolen." Chiron corrected.
"But who would do that?" Annabeth asked worriedly.
"You." Chiron said gravely.
"What!?" I asked.
Chiron held up a hand. "At least, that is what Zeus thinks. At the Winter Solstice meeting, Zeus and Poseidon had their usual fights. Mother Rhea always liked you best! Air disasters are better than sea disasters! So on and so forth. During this time, the gods left the throne room. Afterwards, Zeus realized it was missing, stolen from the throne room under his very nose. Zeus immediately blamed Poseidon. Of course, a god cannot steal another god's symbol of power directly, that is forbidden by Ancient Laws older than the gods themselves. Zeus believes that Poseidon convinced a human hero to take it, due to their freedom from most of the Ancient Laws. A demigod can go anywhere, challenge anyone, take anything, as long as they have the strengths necessary to do so."
"But I didn't-" I began.
Chiron cut me off. "Patience and listen, child. Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The Cyclopes' main forges are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon the largest control over them. Zeus thinks Poseidon has hidden the bolt under the sea and is having the Cyclopes make an arsenal of illegal copies, which would be used to topple him from his throne. The only thing Zeus was unsure of was who Poseidon had used to take it. Your father has now openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays, and could've easily snuck into Olympus and taken the Bolt." He explained.
"I didn't even know any of this was real at that point. The only encounters I've had with our world this year was you and Grover, and when Mrs. Dodds attacked me after the solstice. What oath could I take to prove my innocence?" I asked.
"Well, the Styx is the most serious, powerful, and binding oath anyone can make. For mortals, using it as a truth tester will get you killed instantly if you lie." Annabeth said.
"Percy, don't-" Grover began.
I cut him off. "I, Percy Jackson, swear on the River Styx that I am innocent of stealing Zeus' Master Bolt from the throne room on the Winter Solstice of the past year."
Thunder boomed and lightning flashed.
"You foolish child!" Chiron yelled. He visibly calmed himself. "Whether or not you have stolen the Bolt, Zeus has demanded it's return by the summer solstice, in ten days. Poseidon has demanded an apology for being called a thief by the same day. Neither will back down. If the Bolt is not returned, war will break out. Do you know what a full-fledged inter-Olympian war would look like, Percy?" He finished.
"Bad?" I wondered.
"Bad is an understatement. Nature at war with itself, storms covering America. Millions dead as the gods choose sides between the brothers in a fight that would make the Trojan war look like a water balloon fight." He answered his own question.
"Bad." I summarised.
"And without that oath you just took, you would've been the first to feel Zeus' wrath. You still might be, simply for being your father's son." Chiron looked very grave.
Down in the camp, it started pouring. The volleyball players let the ball fall to the ground as they stared at the sky in shock. My presence had brought this storm, Zeus' wrath, down on camp.
"Okay, so if my dad doesn't have it, where would it be?" I asked.
"I have an idea. Part of an old prophecy from years past. Some lines make sense now, when in the past they did not. Before I can say anymore to you, you must officially take up the quest. And in order to do that, you must receive a prophecy from the Oracle." Chiron answered.
"And why can't I know more now?" I wondered out loud.
"Because if you knew where I thought the Bolt was located, you would most likely be too scared to go after it."
"Oh." I repeated for the second time.
"So, Perseus Jackson, will you take up the quest to find, retrieve, and return the Master Bolt of Zeus to its owner by the Summer Solstice, in ten days?" Chiron's question was oddly formal.
"I do." I said.
"Then seek the counsel of the Oracle, and when you return, if your mind is intact, then more information will be provided to you on your quest. Go to the attic, quester." Chiron replied, still in that oddly formal voice.
Four flights of stairs up, a green trapdoor with a cord hanging from it. When I pulled the cord, a collapsible set of stairs descended, allowing a cloud of dust to escape.
In the attic, there were shelves of jars, each filled with spoils of war taken from monsters. There were suitcases with travel stickers like THE LAND OF THE AMAZONS, ITHAKA, and CIRCE'S ISLAND. Armor sets and stands covered in cobwebs and dust, and shields pitted with age and wear. There were several plaques on the wall, monster heads stuffed and mounted on them. The only one legible through the grime was labeled HYDRA HEAD #1, WOODSTOCK, NY 1969. It was like a giant snake head, but it had horns and shark's teeth instead of snake fangs.
By the window sat the most gruesome momento of all. A shriveled husk of an unwrapped mummy, one of a female by her clothes, wearing necklaces of beads, what once had been a tie-died sundress, and a headband over long black hair. her skin was drawn tight over her arms and skull, and her eyes shown milky white like marbles under her half-opened eyelids.
When I got within five feet of her, she sat up on her stool, green mist pouring from her mouth and she spoke in a raspy voice as the trapdoor slammed shut. "I AM THE SPIRIT OF DELPHI, SPEAKER OF THE PROPHECIES OF PHOEBUS APOLLO, SLAYER OF THE MIGHTY PYTHON. APPROACH, SEEKER, AND ASK."
I realised then, in that moment, that the mummy wasn't alive as I had first thought, trapped by some godly power. It was the receptacle for something else, something far older and more powerful than the body that contained it. The power in the room was ancient, but not evil and demonic like the Minotaur or the Fury I'd slain. This power was much more like the Fates I'd seen on the side of the highway when the bus broke down.
I forced myself to speak. "How will I retrieve the Master Bolt and return it to Zeus?"
The swirling mist coalesced into Gabe and his poker buddies, but it was still obviously mist and the Oracle.
"IN THE WEST, YOU WILL FACE THE GOD WHO HAS TURNED FROM HIS FAMILY." Gabe spoke in the raspy voice of the Oracle before turning back to the illusionary card game in front of him.
"YOU SHALL FIND WHAT WAS STOLEN, AND SEE THEM SAFELY RETURNED." Poker buddy on the right of Gabe spoke next.
"IN THE END, ONE WHO CALLS YOU FRIEND WILL BETRAY AS DID THE GOD." Poker buddy on the left delivered that line like a punch to the gut.
"AND IN THE END, YOU WILL FAIL TO SAVE WHAT MATTERS MOST." Eddie, or old building supervisor, delivered the worst line yet.
The green mist swirled and vacuumed back into the mummy like water into a tub drain as the trapdoor creaked back open. I had many questions, but I knew from the stories that no hero previous had managed to get another prophecy about them, to them, while another was active. So somebody else could come ask my questions, but the Oracle would likely twist words and make it about the asker. I turned and descended the stairs with a heavy heart.