A/N: Sorry this is a little late, I wanted to make sure I'd ironed out all the details before starting on this new journey. Updates should be once a month. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1: Here We Go Again…
When I stepped through the portal to Olympus, I never imagined what would happen to us. To all of us. I was so excited to finally start my own quest, that I didn't think of the consequences. It wouldn't be the last time that my overzeal would land us in trouble. You'd think I'd learn. There's no use lamenting over past decisions now, though.
After I left, I spent days in Olypums's library. Time seemed to pass strangely, that's why it took so long for me to reach out to you. I practically devoured everything they had on the Greco-Roman, the prophecy, everything that might pertain to my quest (how silly that word, my. It was never just mine, but of course, I didn't know that then). That was when I found the scroll. It was written in the same chicken scratch language I wrote my prophecies in, so I knew that it had to connect somewhere. I spent weeks or maybe months deciphering it, but I only managed a few words. Master's Guild. First Circle. The Library. Judson. This would be the next stage of my quest, but I knew that I needed help. I sent you that Iris message and waited.
The antechamber I'd been given for this meeting was bare, just a few wall hangings depicting the glories of the gods, no doubt Athena's handiwork. I'd begged and borrowed enough chairs for everyone and a circular table, that was important. Otherwise we might have a repeat of the stand off of the Argo II. Unless Percy and Jason had resolved that 'who is the leader?' question already. Gods, I just don't know. We've been gone for a while. Things were bound to change.
I sank into one of the chairs then stood right back up, wringing my hands like crazy. I knew the crew had gotten my message, but were they coming? I'd left so quickly, I hadn't said a word. Were they angry with me, upset? The door was opening behind me, I didn't have anymore time to think.
"Alana!" Piper rushed in, tackling me in one of her giant hugs. I guess that answer's that question.
"Where have you been? Why did you leave? Are you okay?" Questions, lovely caring questions, from every direction.
"I'll tell you. I swear. Have I got a story to tell you." I usher everyone towards the chairs, the table.
"Trying to turn us into the Knights of the Round Table?" Leo jokes, but takes his seat. Everyone settles into a spot that seems predetermined. There are no squabbles over position, no fights over who is sitting next to who.
"I need your help with a quest." Pulling my journal charm from my bracelet, I thumb through the pages to find the correct passage. "Before I left Camp I got a prophecy from Rachel. Ah, here it is."
Circles bound, circles broken
Words you write are yet unspoken
The second is whole, the first now waits
To decode the words of fate
Come to Olympus, head now this call
Find what you need, before the fall
I read aloud then reach into the satchel bag on the floor by my chair and spread the scroll out across the table. It's long enough that Nico can help me hold it flat from across the table. "This is what I found."
Anabeth stands and leans in, looking over the scribbles, "I've never seen this language before. What is it?
"Common Language. The language of the Gods, before Greece or Rome." I turn to a random page in my journal and slide it across. The same language is scrawled across almost every page. "I can translate a few words, but most of this is lost on me."
"So we need an expert in gibberish?" Another joke from Leo and ripples of laughter. How long has it been since I was able to laugh?
"Exactly. And according to the other records I found, there's only one possibility." Everyone straightens up, leans in. "It's called the Library. It's a repository for magical items that are too dangerous for mortals. There's a man there known as Judson, he's in charge of it. His name also appears on the scroll."
"So you need to go there." Reyna speaks up, toying with the edge of her purple cloak. "But why did you need us?"
"Because of this." I pull the journal back to me, flip to the newest entry. A drawing, better than I could have normally rendered, of the ten of us. We are standing together, determined and yet glad, in front of two symbols, a tree and an open book. Symbols of the Library.
"Alana's prophecies haven't steered us wrong yet." Jason says. "I guess we're going to this Library. Any idea where it is?"
"Not exactly." I reach for my journal again, flipping to the section of notes I wrote. "It moves from century to century, like the Gods do. I've heard rumors that it might be in New York, but who knows. It has a specific magic signature that we might be able to track."
"And what do we do once we get there? Will they just let us in?" Frank looks quizzical. "If they're supposed to protect magic from people who aren't supposed to have it, they may not be very welcoming."
"Technically, we count as magic beings, so they might be able to help us." Other theories start to circle the table, around and around and around and around and around. Dizzy… Oh my head…
I'm in a great entry hall, flanked by stone sleeping lions that yawn and stretch as I dart past. "Maera! No running inside!" A voice behind me, gentle and loving, accompanied by a set of arms that wrap around my waist and lift me up, "Got you, little one!"
"Uncle! No! Wanna see Judson!" I squirm, kicking at the skirt of my dress. I look behind me, see the smile of the man I love as much as a 6 year old can.
"Judson is busy and you have lessons, dear one." He sets me down and takes my hand, leading me back past the lions, just now falling asleep again, and back into a small laboratory. I take my seat at a low desk, while my Uncle sets up another one of his experiments.
I practice my letters for a while, then start to cough. It's a horrible wet cough that I know too well. My parents sounded like that before they died. "Uncle Jenkins? Can I have some water?"
"Of course, Maera."
Whatever comes next is blurred, the floor sinking and spinning as I fall. Uncle Jenson's worried voice fades away, and all I am left with is pain.
I jolt up from the floor, almost knocking heads with Leo, who was leaning over me. "Woah, easy there 'Lana. You passed out."
"I'm okay… I must have forgotten to eat today." But that dream… It wasn't a prophecy. And it wasn't our memory. Hush. We'll figure it out later. Piper summons food from her cornucopia and everyone settles down to eat. We decide that we'll try a magic tracking spell in the morning, and deal with Judson when we get there. For now, we're all going back to Camp Half-Blood.
I spend a few minutes explaining things to my siblings, saying hello to friends. They did well, getting everyone back together like this. Hopefully it will stay this peaceful while we're gone.
That night at campfire, I get roped into leading the sing-along. I start singing an old favorite song, only to find that no one joins me. "What's wrong guys? Don't feel like singing 'Nana goes off to War'? What about 'This is Mino's Land'?"
"Miss Martins, a moment." Chiron calls me over to his spot on the far side of the ring of seats. "Are you aware you are speaking in gibberish?"
"No, I wasn't." I would have known if I'd spoken another language, right?
"I assure you that you did." Chiron allows me to continue with the sing-along, but I do so with worry beating at the back of my brain. I do slip into gibberish once or twice more, but I never notice it. Someone always has to break me out of the pattern before I can speak normally again.
Despite the odd language slip, it's the most fun I've had in weeks. Whatever happens with this quest, I'm coming back to Camp afterwards. I don't want to be on my own again. Maybe I'll even visit New Rome. This is home, not this place, but this feeling, these people. It took seven months of silence and solitude to figure that out. And now I have to leave again.
We equip ourselves with the standard quest backpacks and gather in the rec room of the Big House to cast the spell. It's simple enough, a chant while holding a pendulum over a map. Wherever it drops, there's our Library. Easy. (Of course now we know that the Library let us find it. If it hadn't, there's no way that particular spell would have worked.)
The crystal end of the pendulum dropped at a bridge in Oregon, and after a quick stop to get rain gear, we join hands and Nico takes us into the shadows.
The knock came as quite a surprise for the Librarians in the annex that day. Prospero was defeated, Flynn and Eve had been restored to them and all was well. Still the knock came, loud and sharp, echoing down the cement hall. All eyes immediately turned to Ezekiel Jones, who was in the habit of ordering pizza and having it delivered to what was supposed to be their secret base.
"I swear, it wasn't me!" He exclaimed.
Colonel Baird and Jenkins shared a look. Knocks on the Library door were never good. Both exited the annex and walked the gloomy hall to the steel door. Beyond it, they could hear a bubbling conversation, many young voices, indecipherable languages mixing into a cacophony of sound. Jenkins opens the door and calmly takes in the sight. Ten teens, five girls and five boys, dressed in raincoats and heavy boots, backpacks slung over shoulders, stare back at him.
"Can I help you?" He intones with his stuffy British accent.
A red-headed girl with bright blue eyes, standing in the middle of the diverse group like she was holding it together, spoke up. Her voice was lyrical, an ancient, but familiar, accent flowing through her words. "Maybe. This wouldn't happen to be The Library, would it?"
Shock was the first emotion to hit. They know of the Library? How? What do they want here? Jenkins responds coolly, hiding everything behind his uncaring facade. "If you mean the local Public Library, then no." As he moves to close the door, one of the boys, lanky with slight features and pointed ears, leaps forward, catching the edge. He grins sheepishly, but refuses to release his grip on the door.
"No. Not a library. THE Library." Another girl speaks, narrowing eyes as grey as the sky above at Jenkins.
"At least tell us if Judson is in there. It's important we speak to him." Jenkins freezes. Judson?
The first girl speaks again. "I understand if you can't let us in, I wouldn't in your place, but could you at least tell Judson this?" Her eyes took on a sheen of grey. "The 2nd Circle of the Guild is whole and aware once more. The Greco-Roman and The Nine are ready to fix what has been broken." A look of confusion crosses her face, and the faces behind her, but she continues regardless. " Tell him that, please. He'll know what to do."
"How do you know Judson?" Flynn Carson, the Head Librarian and frequent eavesdropper, pops out of seemingly nowhere, giving all except Jenkins a minor heart attack. Close behind him are the new Librarians, all with curious looks on their faces.
"Maybe we should come in before answering that. This storm is about to get a lot worse." A blond boy with eyes of electric blue states, just as thunder rumbles in the distance. All ten of the travellers glance up towards the sky, sharing a look more often given to those who made inappropriate comments.
Jenkins, instead of opening the door for them, stood stock still, more shocked than the Librarians had ever seen him. Eve and the others gently prompted him, but he never looked away from the redheaded girl.
"Maera." The name leaped in his mind, under the weight of a million memories and thoughts. "Little Maera."
"How do you know that name?" The redhead looked just as confused, so did her companions.
"What's he talking about Alana?" One of the boys asks her, one with dark hair and eyes, putting a hand on her shoulder as if to steady her.
Maera melted away, and left this new girl in her place. But Jenkins could still see the spitfire he had helped raise, the girl who had called him…
"Uncle? Can we come in?"
I lead my group into the concrete hallway, very aware of all the stares fixed on me. The Librarians' stares, and the stares from the older man who opened the door -I know him. I know him, I know him, I know him… How?- I expected, but the stares from my Nine are not. Then again, I certainly did not expect to say what I did either. One more mystery to unravel.
The Librarians take us to a lovely room, with stained glass doors and a sweeping staircase. Percy, noticing the damp that we were trailing in, squints. The dripping rainwater halts, then floats towards the ceiling in an ever larger bubble. He directs it with a nod of his head, towards a few potted plants near the stairs. "I figured you wouldn't want your books wet," he says, countering the looks of shock and disbelief.
"You can do magic?" One of the Librarians says, a woman with red hair. "What about the rules?" She looks expectantly towards the others in her group.
"Safe to say, they operate by different rules." The older man says. "I do believe we have something on the 'Greco-Roman', if I could only remember where."
"Or we could tell you." Piper says, having already hopped up onto the long table in the center of the room. She's practically a cat. "Of course that would require you to trust that we were telling you the truth, which if you don't is completely fine."
"Piper, get off the table. This is their home." I say, once again not noticing my slip into that unknown language. Several voices simply call 'English' and wait for me to repeat myself. "Sorry. Get off the table, Piper." She shrugs and slips back onto her feet.
"What was …. No, off track," The blonde woman shakes her head and directs us back towards the first topic. "Tell us who you are, and then we'll see about trust."
"I'm Alana Martins, and these are my friends." I gesture behind me and let them call their names out. Once they've finished, I continue. "We're demigods, children of humans and gods. In our case, the Greek and Roman gods."
The man I recognized, the one I called Uncle, snaps his fingers and steps away, towards a card catalog and begins pulling out drawers. "That's what it was!" He finally selects a card from the drawers and flicks it towards us. A shelf of books pops into existence a few feet from Frank and Hazel, who both jump away with their hands on weapons.
"Easy guys." Reyna pulls the two away from the shelf, then glares at the man. "A warning would have been appropriate, sir. Unless you want to turn into a shish kabob."
The group of Librarians burst into laughter. "You shish kabobing Jenkins! Ha!" The man with wild brown hair bends over, dramatizing his reaction, until the blonde elbows him. "Flynn, that's enough."
The older man, Jenkins, looks up from the book. "Actually sir, they might be the only ones I would lose a fight too." Their entire group goes still.
Annabeth nudges Piper, who smiles. "Maybe we should continue the introductions first? We don't even know your names."
That is just what they needed, a dose of normal. Each Librarian introduces themselves. Flynn Carson, the one with wild brown hair, has been a Librarian for more than ten years. The other three-Cassandra Cillian, Ezekial Jones, and Jacob Stone-have only had the job for a year or so, but already seem very knowledgeable. Eve Baird, the blonde, is the group's Guardian. And finally Jenkins, the Caretaker, who is an immortal from the time of King Arthur. He doesn't mention how we knew each other, instead handing the book over to Flynn, who skims a passage and then looks up bright-eyed. "Judson used to talk about this. How there were warriors and heroes from all over the globe, all doing their part to protect humanity from magic."
"Less from magic, more from monsters and power-mad titans who want to take over the world." I respond. "We have a riddle for you. A scroll I found while looking for a way to defeat one of our enemies. It's in a language none of us can read."
Flynn perks up even more at the mention if a riddle, hands practically shaking in anticipation. "Can we see it?"
I take off my bag and dig through it, removing the scroll from the plastic we'd wrapped it in. The Librarians are quick to clear their long table of books and odd items so I can spread it out. Flynn scans the writing with a magnifying glass, occasionally muttering to himself or consulting with Jacob about what the language could be. Eve shakes her head at the two and tells us it might be a while.
"We could give them a tour!" Cassandra bounces up from her seat.
"I think it would be better if they tell us the rest of their story, Miss Cillian." Jenkins gives the redhead a soft smile and my breath catches. That's the smile from the dream. It has to have been real. We know him, somehow.
The others notice I'm caught up in my thoughts, so Annabeth starts talking. Normally mortals receiving information about myths and gods being real either faint or call the police. The Librarians do neither. Cassandra took notes. Occasionally one of the Romans would make an addition, but Annabeth was on a roll. Not wanting to interrupt, I sit down next to my bag and looked around. I may not have Annabeth's architectural eye, but I am a daughter of Apollo and we know how to appreciate art in all forms.
This place is beautiful, the stained glass on the windows and doors, the marble pattern on the floor. I tip my head back to look at the paintings on the ceiling. Cherubs and angels with swords fighting the forces of evil, pretty standard for a mural in a home of warriors for good. But there's something familiar, like when I saw Jenkins at the door, when I called him Uncle. That dream… it's there, I know it. But the view isn't quite right.
I get up and move, glancing up occasionally to check before sitting down again. No… the view was lower. I stretch out on my back. This is it. This was the view from… from…
Judson and Charlene set up a pallet in the Annex so they could watch me after I fainted in uncle Jenkins's lab. My cough got worse. They give me medicine, hold my hand, tell me stories. Butmy fever is rising and my breath is catching and
I am a little older now, hiding in a field with my mother as redcoats sack our town. "Keep your head down, Diana." But she's standing up, she's walking back into town. She's getting shot and the redcoats are pointing their guns towards my hiding spot and
I'm a young southern belle, standing in front of plantation house. There is a man in a blue uniform next to me. The War is over, but my father still has a pistol pointed at him, at us. The man in blue doesn't seem to notice, his eyes locked on me, "It's alright Catherine. I love you." My heart is in my throat. His heart is leaking out all over his uniform. The pistol is turned on me and my father's face is turning away and
I dressed in jeans and a tie-dye shirt. I am in a park with friends, playing a guitar. "Sing us a song, Angela!" Then I am marching down a street with the same friends, holding signs. There are police in front of us in riot gear. Someone shoots and then they all shoot and I am stained in red and
I am dying, dying, dying.
There's a bitter taste in my mouth. It makes me gag. There are arms around my shoulders, someone else is holding my hair back. I have to breathe, in the nose, out the mouth, breathe.
"Alana, honey. Talk to us." Hazel is there, holding my hand. The rest of my Nine are around me and I lean on them. I'm so tired. Jenkins is holding a china teacup, watching me carefully. The other Librarians are with him at a lab table. For the first time I notice we're no longer in the lovely room we started in.
"What happened?" That's all I can ask.
"You fainted or something in the other room" Cassandra brings over a glass of water, which I gulp down quickly.
"Your eyes went grey." Piper says from behind me. That means I was using my Oracle abilities, but it wasn't the future I saw. I pass the water glass back to Cassandra before my shaking hands drop it.
Jason is explaining Piper's comment to the Librarians, the rest are waiting for me to tell them what I saw. I know I can tell them, but I'm not sure if I should. The visions seemed so personal. But if I want answers, I need to talk about the first one at the very least.
"I saw him." I say, looking right at Jenkins. "I was… six, maybe seven. I lived here. But I got sick. I think I died."
"You saw the past." Jenkins says, setting the tea cup down and moving a little further away. Even the Librarians seem shocked. "The Library has… a consciousness, would be the best way to put it, and it occasionally speaks to those of us connected to it. In the Middle Ages it told us to take in an orphan child. Maera. Even Judson and Charlene didn't know exactly why, the Library only told us that she had a destiny to fulfill when she grew up. We were to care for her, educate her, until it was time for her to face that destiny."
"I didn't make it that long." I had claimed the life of this Maera. I had no proof to connect us, but somehow I knew that she was me. I was her.
"No. She became ill. We tried everything we could, but she died." Jenkins looks at me, through me more like. "You look exactly like her, like she would have looked if she had lived."
"This is sounding more and more like reincarnation." Flynn said. "Is that possible?"
"Yes. There are magical beings with that ability, but no one's been able to prove it happens to human beings after death. That's one mystery that even the Library can't solve." Jenkins seemed to need the distraction from me, and Flynn knew it. This group is as tightly knit as my Nine and they looked out for each other in the same way. Wait… the Nine and the Greco-Roman…
"I need my journal. Please." I sit up fully, fighting a spell of dizziness. Hazel darts out of the laboratory and comes back with my bag. It's still partially open from earlier, the journal is right there on top. Annabeth offers me a pen, but I brushed her hand away. "I wrote something a long time ago… I think it might help."
The words on the page rearrange just as they always do when I need them to. Just as I thought. "The Greco-Roman and the Nine will always find each other, no matter what life they live. As the wheel turns and the Greco-Roman is brought forth again and again, so do the Nine."
My Nine turn to each other to discuss the passage, but Flynn is more interested in my journal. "That writing is the same as the stuff on the scroll. I thought you said you can't read it."
"I can't." Oh boy, this is going to take some explaining… "It's part of the Oracle powers Jason explained earlier. I write things in the journal and they decode themselves when we need them. I tried to use the journal to decode the scroll, but I couldn't get much out of it."
"Regardless, Stone and I think we can translate your scroll. Should take about two or three days." Flynn shares a look with Stone who confirms his estimate.
"Two or three days?" We hadn't planned on staying. Even more important, demigods don't do well sitting still. We can go stir crazy pretty quickly. I look over my shoulder at my Nine. Should we stay? Go back to camp? Every set of eyes I look into is sure and steady. They want to stay. The scroll is too important to leave with people we just met.
"Of course you can stay!" Bubbly Cassandra speaks for her friends, who don't seem too surprised. "We'll clear out the guest rooms!" She helps me up from the cot and takes us back. As we walk, there's a look passing from Librarian to Librarian and demigod to demigod: 'Here we go again…'