3rd P.O.V.
"—Thalia. They have her."
When Percy didn't respond, Annabeth said it again, explaining the occurrence as we entered the command tent where the hunters were waiting. "Malcolm and Thomas were on duty at camp, keeping an eye out for anything when they stumbled in. Most of them were cut up pretty bad, two of them actually with gun shot wounds. Thomas came and collected us, fetching most of the Apollo healers."
"But what happened?" Percy demanded.
Annabeth shook her head and turned to one of the hunters, a linen cloth wrapped around her head, the temple splotched with blood. "This is Maggie, she's the second lieutenant. Maggie, this is Percy."
Maggie, a small blonde with dulled, green eyes, gave him a quick salute. "I s'pose you wanna know what happened?" She asked.
He nodded.
"You probably heard we were escorting a few half-bloods to safety, but that isn't all true. Thalia had gotten word of a golden stag somewhere near Washington D.C. and she thought it were the Lady Artemis."
"How did she hear about the stag?" interrupted Annabeth.
"Some anemoi told her when we were checking the winds." At the onlookers' puzzled expressions, Maggie allowed herself a small smile and elaborate, "Lady Artemis and the wind spirits are on friendly terms. We do things for them, and they do things for us in return. Now, we got a deal: they give us everything they hear about the operation and the gods and we sabotage a few of the polluting factories.
"We were sneaking through the streets, a few of the hunters are sorceresses you see, and all the sudden, the mist clears. In the middle of D.C. there's this barricade, some tall, wiry guy in the center. He laughs at us, saying it was pointless to hide.
"Smith was in D.C? What was he doing there?" Annabeth thought out-loud.
"Never mind what he was doing in D.C. He has the lieutenant!" shouted Maggie fiercely and suddenly. "We have to do something!" She looked down in apology at everyone's started expressions.
"Look, I'm worried about Thalia as much as you, but we have no idea where she is right now. They have a lot of bases they could have shipped her to." Percy said, his voice rising to below a shout. He understood why Maggie was so desperate, but his patience was really running thin. Annabeth's eyes found his and pleaded for Percy to calm down.
"Maggie," He started again, slowly and calmly. "Tell us what happened. As much detail as you can manage."
Maggie nodded and took a breath, letting her muscles relax for the first time in days. "We were in a little town in Virginia, when Thalia first saw it. The golden stag was standing there, across the street, and thinking it was a sign from Lady Artemis, we followed it. It kept walking, disappearing if we got too close them reappearing a block away. Eventually, it lead us out of the town and on the road towards D. C. Turns out it was leading us there, to a big office building right in the center of the city.
"It was stupid of us, I know, but we hadn't thought that it might have been the special division's headquarters. By the time we realized it, the stag had disappeared, and the men in black had us surrounded.
"Thalia commanded us to run since our arrows wouldn't work on mortals. So we ran, but they were everywhere." Maggie choked back an annoyed sob and fisted her hand in the camouflaged cloth of her uniform. "Thalia ordered us to leave her behind while she distracted the soldiers."
"And you left her?" demanded Annabeth in outrage. Despite her harsh and angry exterior, Maggie flinched.
"When Thalia gives us direct orders, especially now that Lady Artemis is missing, we must listen. Even if it means leaving her behind."
Annabeth bit her lip until a trace of blood speckled her lips. She knew Thalia could handle herself, but that did not stop her from worrying about the hunter. Percy moved closer, wrapping his arm around her waist, and she smiled gratefully. Maggie wrinkled her nose in disgust but wisely chose not to comment.
"How do you know Thalia didn't get away? If you separated how do you know she didn't manage to escape like the rest of you?" Percy questioned.
Maggie shook her head. "Because we didn't get away."
Everyone froze and stared at the hunter. A few reached for a weapon at their side. Percy came forward, a hand inadvertently resting on his back pocket where Riptide grew cold against his leg. "What," He asked slowly, "do you mean 'we didn't get away'?"
Maggie looked at Percy with soft, depressed jade eyes. "They let us go." All of Maggie's strength left her and she fell back against the table in the center of the command tent, her shoulders falling dejectedly. She no longer looked like the strong, immortal huntress but a scared teenager who had let down her sister and friend. "We woulda been caught, but the tall wiry guy from before ordered his men to stop. He smiled and laughed at us, saying he'd caught the head huntress and that we were next."
"Then why did they let you go?"
"They said they wanted us to deliver a message."
The command tent was silent. No one dared utter a word as they watched the huntress and the demigods' commander. When Maggie didn't continue, Percy asked, "what message?"
"If you don't release their people and turn ourselves over to the government, then—" Maggie broke off, guiltily playing with the hem of her shirt. "—then they'll storm the camp and burn it to the ground. We have twenty-four hours."
Percy stood frozen. He willed himself be an unemotional shell, because if the campers knew, if they saw, how he truly felt—how he was actually scared—everything would be forfeit. He clenched and released his fists, clearing his throat before evenly ordering everyone to clear the room.
Somewhat grudgingly and surprisingly obediently, all campers besides the head counselors, Maggie, and Lyra left. Even with the lack of spectators, Percy was reluctant to speak his mind, just like everyone else.
After a few minutes of tense silence, one of the Stolls finally spoke up, uttering the very words that were echoing through everyone's minds: "Well, we're screwed."
"Connor!" snapped Katie.
"What?" He demanded. "Everyone's thinking it."
"I wasn't," Travis Stoll raised his hand in disagreement. "I was thinking of fish." When everyone's cold and unamused stares all fell onto him, Travis's ears turned beet red, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Right," he mumbled. "Time and place."
"So what do we do?" asked an anonymous voice, ignoring Travis's comments. "We obviously can't give ourselves up."
"No," agreed Annabeth. "And besides, even without the gods, the barriers around camp would still prevent the mortals from entering."
"I don't know, Annabeth." Percy said, his voice just above a whisper. "You weren't there, in the prisons. The testing they did...they could have developed a mist deflecting weapon, and there's the fact they've been experimenting with the mixing of mortal, demigod, and monster blood."
So what do you propose we do?" Annabeth demanded hotly, probably more vehemently than she had meant to. "What asinine plan do you have of rescuing Thalia from the center of the United States government within the next twenty-four hours all the while evading capture and the destruction of this camp?"
I wouldn't call it asinine—just foolhardy."
Percy was in his makeshift cabin, collecting his few supplies and —although he'd deny it—avoiding Annabeth. After he had layer out his plan, she hadn't been very supportive of the wild idea. Actually, she had called him a clichéd idiot who had watched Mission Impossible too many times. And thinking back about the fact she hadn't called him a Seaweed Brained idiot or clichéd Annabeth had Percy concluding that she was in fact furious with the plan. But after the counsel of demigods had agreed that there really was no other alternative, Annabeth had stormed off with a stream of unintelligible curses.
"It's not like I proposed using a harness to avoid floor sensors," Percy grumbled to himself while shoving the last of his gear into a backpack.
"And I distinctly remember nothing to do with skydiving," replied an amused voice. "Though there's still time for revision."
Percy turned to Lyra, a doubtful expression coloring his features. He sat down on his bunk and dropped his bag on the floor. "It's not that bad a plan, is it?"
Lyra frowned and tilted her head, regarding him in that strange way only someone with mismatched eyes could manage—like she could see both sides evenly and still see a third aspect on top of that. She padded across the short distance and plopped to the ground besides Percy's satchel. They sat in silence until Lyra could think of a proper reply. "No," she said at last. "It's not the plan though."
"What do you mean?"
"I gleaned inside Annabeth's head," the daughter of Hecate admitted. "I didn't mean to—it's still an immediate reaction to needing to see and know everything. But I could see Annabeth's worry. Smith is unpredictable. I can't get in his head. I can't see, sense, or hear him. What is he's able to sneak up on us without me being able to 'see' it coming?"
Percy dropped his head into his hands. He knew the plan was fairly unfair to Lyra, relying on her to see and glean everything that could happen, but Percy couldn't think of any other way. Everyone was relying on him to solve this and he couldn't not use an advantage while he had one.
"He won't." Percy declared with conviction.
"But his mind—"
"You can handle him. You're strong enough to get into anyone's head. Even Smith's."
Lyra scoffed, focusing on one of the designs on her arm. For the fist time, a realization wandered through Percy's mind. Of all the time Lyra spent playing with the drawings on her arm, playing with her mind, she never seemed to be paying attention to what was happening around her and always had that far away look to her eyes. Percy thought about each time she had forced her way into his head and the slight pressure that always accompanied it.
"I told you you'd recognize it eventually," Lyra smiled, glancing up from a particular tattoo on her left arm.
"How does your dad do it?" At Lyra's puzzled look, Percy elaborated. "Close his mind, I mean."
"That keen to keep me out," she laughed. More seriously, she continued, " he focuses on one thing. Picturing a wall or something impenetrable around his mind. I think he focuses on Hecate and the when they first met." Lyra narrowed her eyes accusingly at the boy next to her. "You want to try, don't you?"
Percy shrugged. "Figured it could be mutually beneficial. You get practice breaking into someone's guarded mind, and I get to keep my privacy."
I'm pretty sure this won't exactly be a challenge.
Percy squeezed his sea green eyes shut, fisting his hands in his pants' material like he was expecting a blow to the head. The sight made Lyra chuckle, but she complied, shutting her eyes after a moment.
Barely a second later but with a slight migraine, Percy heard a chuckling inside his head and a whispered, fail.
Percy groaned. He had tried, thinking of the impenetrable amor of Achilles and the moment he had plunged himself into the Styx, figuring the invulnerability would spread to his mind somehow.
"You need a stronger focus point," explained Lyra. "And until you have one, your mind is completely vulnerable to everything. Dreams, psychics, telepaths, aliens. And in Connor's words, you're screwed."
Percy glared at his friend pointedly. "Goodbye, Lyra," he said in reply. He watched her nod then leave the tent silently, all the while trying to think of a 'focus point.' Percy laid back on his small cot. The mattress was thin and uncomfortable, the sheets plain and scratchy, but Percy didn't mind. The sound of shuffling patrol guards, the calls of the monsters, and every awkward feeling was comforting in a way, reminding him of the cramped and rotting cabin on Montauk beach and that he was home, at camp.
It wasn't long until his eyelids began to fall and his eyes became cloudy with lethargy. Once again, Percy found himself consciously dreaming, a sort of resolute weariness drawing across his mind. All Percy needed was more visions of angry government suits or empty palaces—as each dream he had been having since the start of the fiasco had been about Smith or an abandoned Atlantis.
This time Percy found himself on Olympus, standing in the forum right before the grand palace. Just like Annabeth had described, all the houses looked desolate and secluded. Even the sun seemed to just hang in the sky, giving slight light to the moon, the lunar glow listlessly glowing back down to earth.
Percy turned around in a circle and searched for a sign, anything, as to why he was there. Usually his dreams had a reason, even if it meant visiting an empty coral palace.
But there was nothing.
Percy shook his head and sighed. He really wanted to wake up. He knew that as soon as he did, he'd probably be even more tired than he'd been before he had fallen asleep, but at this point, Percy figured he'd had enough of empty buildings. But without a way of waking himself up, he elected to simply walk back to the mortal world by taking the elevator down to earth. So he jogged down the cobblestone street, past the amphitheater and the multitude of cafés. Then he was skidding to a stop before the golden doors and was pressing the down button. When he reached the lobby's floor and the door's to open, a blinding white light illuminated the cracks and blazed into the small enclosed space, like a fiery explosion, and Percy found himself once again before the grandiose doors of the Olympian's palace.
Percy sighed. "I'm really not in the mood for this," he said, aimed at nothing in particular, even as the gated doors creaked open for the hero and allowed him entrance to the hall.
His ghost steps echoed through the empty chamber, and Percy came to rest before the twelve thrones, still unsure of what he was supposed to do. He half expected a young girl in a small brown dress to greet him from her place by the fire, but Hestia was no where in sight.
Percy was about to retry his theory of waking himself up when a sudden wind burst through the hall taking away all the light and leaving nothing but the faint glowing embers from the dying hearth.
In response, Percy drew Riptide and circled the sudden darkness that surrounded him.
"Rest your blade, boy," cooed a soft, maternal voice.
Percy spun around, facing the thrones, and discovered a woman graciously regarding him. She was beautiful—or would have been when she was younger as her face was worn and strained with fatigue. Her eyes, which had not stopped watching and calculating him, were a dark cobalt, her hair hung in dark, Greek wringlets around her face, tied back over her shoulder. The woman' stress flowed off her figure like clouds if smoke, gathering behind her and between her shoulder blades.
The woman beckoned Percy forward with a cold wave of the hand. A mix of emotions cascaded from her, and Percy couldn't tell if she respected and valued him or hated and wished to harm him. At one moment she would be looking at the boy with an amicable, even tender hearted, expression that a mother would wear, and then the next she would be regarding him with disgust like he had just insulted her dress.
Nevertheless, Percy stepped closer to the woman, albeit cautiously, and asked, "who are you?" He hadn't expected her to answer—none of the immortals usually did, preferring to make him guess or dwelling in the fact Percy didn't immediately know them by name.
"I've been called by many names over the years," the woman mused in a whisper. At the same time her voice was soft and soothing, it held an edge that countered and balanced the smooth sound. "Among them Ma'at, Vali, Morrigu, and Invidia." She looked straight at Percy, almost like she was looking through him and into his being, Percy tried to imagine a wall surrounding his head, a weak, belated attempt, but it caused the woman to smile amusedly.
"But," she continued like Percy hadn't done anything, "none of those names are fitting for this occasion." She ghosted forward until she was a foot before the son of Poseidon. He fought back the urge to step away and forced himself to meet the woman's judging eyes.
"So what do I call you?"
"Rhamnusia."
Being so close, Percy could now see what had gathered behind her, why the dark, shadowy cloth had amassed between her shoulders and draped the floor behind her. Large wings of an eagle sprouted from the smooth skin of her back, the feathers slick and the color of the dark side of the moon.
"You must defeat this," she stated simply.
Percy stared at Rhumnasia with an incredulous gleam burning his eyes. What did she think he had been doing?
"Not enough," she answered, narrowing her eyes accusingly.
"What are you doing to help?" He snapped. "Besides wasting my time?"
"It's not my job to control the humans."
"Then what is your job?"
"To keep the balance."
Percy scowled. "Well, you've done a great job so far! While you and the gods are off playing hide and seek, the government hunts down those who fought and died protecting Olympus. Where's your precious balance now?"
"In the stars," Rhumnasia replied coldly and calmly.
The way she said it made Percy pause. The stars.
Rhumnasia smiled. "You are smarter than they say, son of the Sea."
Percy's eyes flicked up to the night sky, which had floated in before the appearance of the woman. The stars that graced the sky every night still burned as usual, but there were others now, twelve brightly orbs blazing brighter than any other. Slowly Percy's gaze fell back to the goddess standing before him.
"What did you do?"
Rhumnasia turned away, her great wings sweeping the marble as she stood in front of Zeus's throne. She faced a Percy again, her face betraying no emotion.
"The threat was perceived and balance was restored."
"Balance was lost!" Percy yelled. Rhumnasia assessed the fuming boy but made not comment. "My friends were taken — I was taken while you," Percy jabbed a finger at the winged goddess, "hid the only beings who could do anything to stop it!"
"I had to protect the Pantheon. It was up to you to prevent the mortal's invasion," she attempted to explain, but Percy was beyond furious.
"How?" he demanded. "We're kids. Half-mortals we have to obey both the rules of the immortals and the western civilization!" Percy threw his hands up exasperatedly. "Bring back the gods," he ordered. "Make them—human—corporeal, whatever."
But Rhumnasia was shaking her head. "Only once the threat is leveled." The woman vanished in a cloud of shadows, reappearing behind Percy, resting a hand over the small of his back. He tensed. Whether she knew of his Achilles Heel or it was simply a coincidence, Percy wasn't sure, but anyone besides Annabathe touching the spot was unwelcome,
"And you must do that yourself, "she whispered in his ear, before Percy could react, Rhumnasia was gone and the fire in the hearth began to glow anew. However the flames were not warm and tender but scalding and violent as if it was a storm of raging fire trying to escape its confines.
Percy's hand snaked out, catching the wrist reaching towards him. Whoever it was gave a surprised squawk and tugged back their arm. Percy opened his eyes with great difficulty, but once his eyes were open, he wasn't tired at all like he had expected. Instead, he was pulsing with energy though that could have been from the rush of adrenaline he was about to experience over the next few hours.
Annabeth was hovering over Percy's cot, an undecided emotion spotting her face. "It's time," was all she said before turning away and leaving the cabin.
"Percy, are you sure this is going to work?" Annabeth's anxious, grey eyes bore into the boy's beside her, searching for any qualms about the plan.
"Hey, it may not be one of yours, but I am very confident that this is the only way to go. Plus every scrap of intel points to her being here, so it should be a piece of cake." Percy gave her one of his famous lopsided grins and turned back to the tall, grey building across the street. Annabeth frowned, observing the same building her boyfriend was intently glaring at.
Lyra glared pointedly at the back of Percy's head. "You realize you just turned every single personification of fate, including karma itself, against us by saying that?"
Percy responded plainly, not giving her the satisfaction of his regret. "I'm just that confident," at least he hoped he looked that confident.
I can still hear your thoughts, genius.
Percy growled and crept to edge of whichever building they were hiding behind, imagining a wall made of sea water surrounding his mind all the while. To anyone else, water would not have been the most secure defense, but with Percy's affinity to anything marine, he couldn't think of anything more deflecting than water. He could gather strength from it and security. Percy put as much power behind that wall he could, thinking of Annabeth as he did so.
Annabeth stopped beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. Percy welcomed the touch and relaxed from the comforting of having her there. Despite vouching endlessly for it, the plan was risky and fairly—unintelligible.
Percy took a deep breath, holding it until he felt the faint drumming resonating through his skull. "Lyra," he whispered, though there was no real need to be quiet, "get ready."
The girl nodded and closed her eyes. It seemed like hours, however long she was searching, and they waited, every sound driving warning shocks through Percy's nervous system. He couldn't help but be paranoid. They were feet away from the people who were hunting them, who had kidnapped and experimented on their friends.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Lyra grabbed Percy's and Annabeth's wrists, and with her eyes still closed tightly, she sprinted across the empty street, the other two demigods in tow. They reassembled in the alleyway connecting the target structure with a second office building. It was a small alley, only enough room for Percy and one other person to stand side by side before touching either wall, and although they had enough space to stand comfortably on their own, all three of them pressed themselves tightly against the cool bricks, as if the action rendered them completely invisible.
Again they waited, only this time for the next signal. Lyra remained absolutely still, surprising Percy extensively as he had never seen her unmoving before. The next stage of the plan was probably the biggest risk, the longest leap of faith. Nico and a few other demigod volunteers had snuck into the center of D.C. bringing spell grenades—a recent development of Hecates' children that involved gases and a mixed reaction—and all charm speakers from camp to ensure no one was actually hurt and that others would join the riot. Their job was to create a big enough problem that most agents would leave the base, giving Percy, Lyra, and Annabeth time to search and rescue Thalia.
Sure enough, SUV after land cruisers tore out of the nearest parking garage, and Lyra began to smirk. As more and more men streamed out of the building, Percy could catch snippets of orders and conversations of what was happening. Most involved surrounding the threat, but when another agent came out with updated information that the riot was spreading to 'normals' and that 'influence' was 'infecting' the general population, the agency's plan shifted to one of containment.
Stage three of the plan was simple and yet painful for Percy. Annabeth, who had been standing behind Percy, vanished completely and was feeding inside information to Lyra via mind-speak. Although they had discovered Thalia's location, they still needed to find her, and to do that, Annabeth—through her invisibility cap—was to wander the compound until she was either able to hack the computers and disclose the huntress's location or happen upon her coincidentally. If she didn't do so in ten minutes, Annabeth was to inhibit the cameras so that Percy and Lyra could join the hunt, albeit much more carefully than Annabeth herself.
As it turned out, Annabeth was forced to put the surveillance on loop so that they could wander around unobstructed. Percy, after much avoiding and shimmying through air ducts, dropped next to Annabeth and, despite his trying not to, was grinning like a fool. His girlfriend seemed to read his thoughts and slapped him upside the head. At his affronted look, she admonished him in a hushed whisper, "stop enjoying this so much."
"Of course, Ninety-Nine."
Percy's grin widened at the inward groan she made, but it turned to a frown as he realized someone was missing. Looking up at the air vent he had come from, he caught sight of a small shadow hovering over the hole.
"Lyra, the coast is clear. You can come down now."
The shadow shook. "I'm gonna see what I can find through here. Besides, I won't be the one to get caught just meandering a secret government compound."
"No, you'll be the idiot stuck in a fan," deadpanned Percy.
Just stick to the shadows, Jackson.
You too, Thorn.
Annabeth tugged on Percy's sleeve, but when he looked to her, all he saw was empty space. Grinning to himself, he followed the quiet indications of Annabeth's trail, and together they snuck through the halls. Annabeth stayed a few feet ahead of Percy, always at the end of the hallway when he was only just reaching halfway so that if guards were in fact coming, she could warn him with enough time to disappear.
They only came across a few men in black uniforms, the majority out fighting the ever growing riot in D.C. Occasionally, a wave of five or six men would run by and almost collide with the two intruders, but Percy had managed to duck into a closet before he was noticed. But the one time he was forced to jump into an office, he had interrupted a meeting between two lab coats. Almost comically, they stared at one another for a few awkward seconds. Percy smirked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck before waving a hand and mumbling, "uh, hi."
Both doctors lunged to a desk, one reaching for a sedative in a needle, the other for the black phone resting on the desk. Percy also leapt towards the desk but with other goals in mind. He knocked away the doctor with the needle, and grabbed the phone at the same time as the other man. They tussled with the object for a moment, Percy eventually freeing the phone and using it to knock the older man unconscious. He felt momentarily bad about hurting him, as the man had to be close to late fifties or early sixties, but then the presage of the second lab coat was more pressing.
He turned back to the woman—she was young and blond, closely resembling Dr. Calder from the institution Percy had been held captive in. She held her hand up by her head, like she was attempting to thrust it violently into Percy's back, a shocked and angry expression twisting her features—
And she fell into Percy's chest, the scene behind her shimmering into focus. Annabeth held her Yankees cap in one hand and an empty syringe in the other, a scowl on her face. She gave the son of Poseidon a pointed look that asked, 'really?' in an incredulous manner.
Percy shrugged then headed for the door, only to be stopped by Annabeth's hand on his arm. She tapped her head, mouthing Lyra. Percy had never really watched someone having a conversation in their head with someone else—probably cause no one could actually do it other than Lyra—and it was fairly amusing. The person held the same emotions in their face as they would while speaking out loud and often made motions with their hands. Annabeth's ranged from annoyance and anger though it quickly shifted to hope and happiness.
"She found Thalia," Annabeth whispered excitedly. "Come on!"
She flicked her hat on over her head, and Percy felt himself being dragged along by an invisible force. Lyra must have been directing Annabeth of all motions in the compound because Annabeth never hesitated when turning and when jumping into unlocked rooms as guards passed. They made incalculable turns and stairs, but soon enough a hallway not unlike those in the facility in Mexico appeared before the two. Lyra was standing before one door, one of two rooms with a red light blazing above the hatch.
"I can't open the door," she pouted.
Annabeth rushed to the nearest computer, plugging in the USB the Hephaestus cabin had designed for them, and hurriedly typed a few strokes. As she worked on hacking the computer, Percy moved to the second door with the red light, preparing to open it as well when Lyra shook her head.
"Apparently they learned not to leave prisoners unattended," she explained when suddenly she clutched her head in pain. "Nico," she grounded out. "He says the mortal rioters are almost cleared."
Annabeth and Percy stared at each other in a shared moment of panic, but that only served their cause. More swiftly than before, Annabeth sped through the codes, her face set in grim determination that only turned happy once the door buzzed open.
Thalia stumbled out, growling and cursing the tight confines, but, in essence, she was good humored enough to joke, "took you long enough," before embracing Annabeth.
"We need to move," Lyra informed them, her eyes shut tight. "Smith is close to the compound and nearly everyone is returning."
And sure enough, an alarm blared, a voice ordering all available units to sub level three to detain the three intruders and escapee.
Whether it was Rhumnasia's way of reconciling with the demigods or the happiness of having Thalia free and with them, Percy, Annabeth, Lyra, and Thalia found returning to ground level surprisingly easy. The amount of agents was low and those that did try to capture the demigods were horribly trained. They stood no chance, tripping over their own feet or fumbling with their tranquilizer guns. Soon enough, they were on the streets, fighting the remaining guards that had run out to challenge the fleeing teenagers.
Percy couldn't hold back the wild grin that tore onto his face. Thalia and Annabeth were next to him, fighting back the few agents that were left, and Lyra was skipping through her targets with an easy grace that kept most men at bay. The fighting was so pathetically easy, Percy was distracted enough to see Nico at the other end of the street, waving frantically at the son of Poseidon. He was running and jumping, waving his arms over his head and yelling something to Percy. Percy smirked, thinking the son of Hades had come with congratulations.
Percy tried to yell back he couldn't understand, and he stepped away from everything momentarily. Pas Nico drew closer, Percy could see a wild look in the younger boy, and he could just catch some of the frantic cries:
"—way!"
Nico had taken up to making hand gestures. Although because he was running, they were made no sense.
"Move!" The boy screamed. "Get away—the building! Get down!"
Percy turned back to the head quarters, a small flicker of fear and recognition shocking his spine. He could see Annabeth was closest to him, watching Nico in delayed wonder, and Thalia who was just behind the blonde girl. The three of them were in the middle of the street, far enough away from the building, but Lyra was still under its shadow.
Percy was moving before his mind had registered the thought, and he found himself screaming, "Lyra, run!"
She looked to him, confusion coloring her features, and Lyra had only taken one step when a scalding white concussion burned the world. The fire encircled her form, shrouding her in a white halo. Percy was knocked to the ground, and he knew nothing as darkness cascaded from the sky.
I know to those of you who really enjoy my stories, I am evil. I kinda stopped writing due to severe writers' block, and now I leave off with a cliff hanger.
Well now I can say that I am wrapping this story up soon so I can focus on my other stories like Of Myths and Legends which I hope you will try and the sequel to camp halfblood to Hogwarts, Wizards at Camp.
Oh and for the Ninety-Nine reference to Get Smart...