When Maisie comes to consciousness, her head is pounding and she's unbelievably cold. She's laying in a soft bed, though it seems to be lacking any kind of blankets. The room she's in is fairly empty. There's a desk and a window across the way, the door on the wall next to it. A few frames hang on the wall. There are aesthetic pictures of cliffs, while are pretty, don't help her determine where she is exactly.
Someone has taken her boots off and brushed her hair out. Her staff in its shrunken form and is still clutched in her hand. She places it on the desk for now, swiveling so she can place her feet on the floor.
The floor is wooden, slippery underneath her socks. Maisie places a bit of weight on her feet experimentally, hearing the satisfying creak of wood. The window across the room seems to be the easiest way out, only the floor creaks and she'd rather not attract any attention from whomever's house this is.
The universe rarely does what she wants, and as soon as she turned to grab her boots, the door opened, and a pretty dark haired woman stepped into the room. She dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, concealing any possible demigod identifying mark on her forearm. Her motherly look was marred by a scar running down the length of her face.
Maisie crossed her arms to cover her broken tattoo, despite the fact that her captors had probably already seen it. If this woman was a demigod, which was likely what had given her her scar, she would know Maisie was a traitor to the Twelfth Legion. The coin in her pocket made its existence known again, the scythe burning as another demigod in distress was signaling out for help.
The woman gracefully pulled out the chair to the desk and sat next to Maisie, either oblivious to Maisie's watchful eyes, or ignoring them.
"My name is Emily." She introduced, "My husband Sam found you out in the woods with a concussion."
Well, that explains the headache. She didn't have any ambrosia with her either.
"Maisie. Where- Where am I?" She looked around. The woman was being civil, so she could assume they weren't going to kill her just yet. They also seemed mortal, if the persistence of her concussion said anything.
"The Quileute Reservation. Are you from Forks, hunny? We can call Chief Swan." She looked sympathetic.
"No, I'm from... um.." Maisie's mouth went dry. San Francisco was where Camp Jupiter was. Gods, she should've just stayed there. Mount Othyrus and the base there was in ruins. She doubted her mom would even recognize her after eight years. Or want her in general. She should call Liam. "I'm sorry. Can I make a call?"
Emily regarded her suspiciously, before nodding and handing Maisie her phone.
"I'll be down the hallway when you're done." She walked out of the room.
With shaking fingers she dialed the number she'd memorized for her, and the second Cohort's, Centurion, Liam. Liam was the one who introduced her to Luke, and he was like her brother. The phone rung once, then an automated voice played, "I'm sorry, the phone number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again."
Maisie hung up.
Liam was dead then. Killed by the same demigods he helped train. The ones fighting for the same gods that don't give a damn about them. The coin in her pocket burned again, and she threw it across the room. Everything had fallen apart. She had to get out of here. She gently set Emily's phone down on the desk, tugging her boots on and shoving her miniature sized staff back into her jean pockets.
She gently crossed the room in three steps, and shimmied the window open nearly soundlessly. With a dip, she dropped out of the window, and walked straight into a bare chest.
"Gods damnit!" She cursed, pulling herself upright to look up at the tall bunk of muscle she'd run into. He looked like one of Mars' kids, all tough and angry looking, though he was decidedly human, as a quick peek at his forearm proved. When her eyes met his, his face softened, taking on an almost awed feeling. She stepped away from him, ready to make a dash for the woods when he let out a long um, followed by an, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'll just be going." Maisie inched around the human hulk backing towards the woods.
"Wait. Where are you going? You shouldn't go into the words alone." He caught her wrist. Maisie sighed. This was going to be a lot harder.
"Wait. Why were you climbing out the window in the first place?" He asked, tightening his grip on her wrist.
"Let go of me." She yanked her hand away.
"Okay, okay! Sorry! Just, tell me where you're going, I can help you." He held its arms up, open palmed to show he meant no harm. "My names Paul, by the way."
"Maisie, and I don't need help." She crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere you want to follow."
"I'd follow you anywhere." Paul replied, a look of complete seriousness crossing his face. Maisie burst out laughing.
"Okay, that was a good one, but seriously, I just need you to point me to the nearest town." She replied.
"I can drive you to Forks." He smiled.