Okay, so here is chapter 15! yay! Thank you to all my amazing reviewers and readers who follow my story! This chapter was fun to write (heh-heh. I'm evil) and hopefully will eliminate Christine's slight Mary Sueness. Andway, review and tell me what you think!
Ch. 15
Several days passed. I'm not entirely sure how many since, in revenge for raising suspicion about someone else in the basement with me, Chiron refused to feed me at all. I just know that I sat alone in the darkness for a lot longer than was good for my mental state, because by the time Charlie bothered to show up again, I was feeling giddy yet unappreciated, with a hint of suicidal depression thrown in there somewhere. I had also invented a pack of invisible cockroaches that mocked me as I paced the room.
"Whoa, Chrissy," the mutant says, materializing quite suddenly from the darkness and scaring me witless. "Are ya okay, love? Lookin' a little green 'round the gills, ya are."
I leap to my paws and topple back, my tail tucked between my legs, smothering down a yelp of surprise as Charlie's pupil-less golden eyes appear beside me, disembodied from the rest of him, which is invisible in the darkness. "Don't do that," I grumble, staggering to my paws only to collapse again, squashing an imaginary cockroach.
The mutant blinks. "Sorry, Chrissy. Have to get in 'ere some'ow, don't I? Anyways, are ya alright?"
I sit up and look at him. "What do you mean? I'm fine." Unfortunately, I hadn't noticed at that point that one of my eyes was opened wider than the other, and that I was twitching rapidly.
Charlie gives me an odd look. "Wha'ever ya say, Chrissy. But we're gonna get ya out o' here sometime soon. Zane's got a plan, or so 'e says."
I perk up. "Really?"
"Ya bet on it, girlie. See, tomorra' mornin', Artemis and them godlings plan on questinin' ya 'bout the Golden Fleece, and wha'ever else tickles their fancy. Prob'ly 'bout our army and our numbers an' wha' kind o' powers and such we gots under our control. Anyways, I don't know 'zactly what's gonna happen, but Zane wants ya to be co'operative when they come to get ya, but don't tell 'em anything. Got that?"
"Be cooperative when they come to get me in the morning, but don't give them direct answers no matter what," I say. "Got it. Speaking of time, what is it now?"
"It was a lit'le after ten 'o clock at night when I left camp to come 'ere," Charlie says, "so I'd guess 'bout ten thirty—forty-five, maybe. It's been three days since I've been here last. Why, don't they feed ya no more?"
I blink at him. "Does it look like they feed me?" I ask. "Hey, shut up, stupid," I add to a cockroach, which was laughing at me.
Charlie takes several steps back. I can tell that he's now convinced that I'm officially off my rocker. Maybe I am. "We really gotta get ya out o' 'ere, Chrissy," he says after a second.
I give a scornful snort. "You think? I've been talking to imaginary cockroaches, Charlie. I've even bothered to name them."
There is a glimmer of white as the mutant grins at me, flashing his sharp little teeth. He laughs softly. "No worries, Chrissy. You jus' make sure you don't fight the godlin's when they take ya out o' here. And really, try not to goad Artemis inta' blasting ya to bits." He winks a gold eye at me. "See ya soon," he sings before closing his eyes and vanishing altogether from the room.
I stare at the spot where he disappeared for a little while. But before too long, I begin to here squeaky laughter in my head. "Oh good gods, will you go the Hades away!," I snap at the cockroaches that don't really exist.
Sure enough, after several long hours of pacing the basement and conducting fevered arguments with my cockroaches, the door bursts suddenly open with a loud bang, flooding my prison with early morning light for the first time in days. I wince and turn my head away from the brightness until my eyes can adjust.
Chiron the centaur and Artemis are silhouetted against the doorway, with Jackson and the Hunter girl with the black hair and the silver headband standing just behind them. Jackson's half-brother the cyclops looms further back, nearer to the stairs.
"Would you be so kind as to come with us, eh. . . miss?" Chiron says with forced politeness.
I remember Charlie's advise: Don't fight the godlings. Well, that was easy for him to say. I'd take any one of these bozos on any day. But then again, I'm starving and half-crazy, and up against a cyclops, two kids of the Big three—possibly three if Di Angelo is slinking around out there where I can't see him—a centaur, and a goddess.
You know, maybe I will come quietly, since I really do want to survive this experience.
After several moments of hesitation, I tentatively creep from my corner. When I am not immediately jumped on and blasted to bits, I gain some of confidence and stand up straighter, meeting the eyes of my captors levelly. I notice triumphantly that my cockroach friends seem to have vanished in the presence of light.
"Come along, please," Chiron says stiffly, stepping to one side and trotting up the stairs to the main level of the Big House, Tyson the cyclops on his heels. I'm surprised that I'm not drugged, or tied up at the very least. It seems to me that the demigods are almost daring me to try to make a run for it. I'm guessing, by the look on Jackson's face as he watches me wearily approach the doorway, that that is exactly what he wants. After all, that would give him an excuse to kill me, as long as Artemis didn't get me first.
I'm sorely tempted to run, and the goddess can tell. She cocks an eyebrow challengingly at me as I pad over to the doorway and pause only a moment before stepping out for the first time in way over a week. I stand motionlessly for a second or two, half expecting Jackson or Artemis to suddenly change their minds about letting me live and stabbing me or something spectacular like that. But, fortunately for me, they reign themselves in, and I am allowed to mount the stairs, flanked on either side by powerful godlings.
I expect to be lead to some kind of metal-walled interrogation room or something similar to that, like, tied to a chair and questioned through a microphone while the demigods watch through a glass window. Instead, I am ushered into a windowless but otherwise pleasant little well-lit room, with a large rectangular table in the middle and chairs.
"You are welcome to sit down, miss," Chiron says to me, lowering himself into his magical wheelchair as he says so and taking his place at the table.
I, unsurprisingly, choose to remain standing. Artemis pulls up a chair herself and perches lightly on the edge, while her lieutenant stands over her, looking protective and more than a little peeved. Jackson lurches to the back of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The cyclops steps silently into the room last, slamming the door behind him. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he flips a large and very complicated lock, encasing us in the little room.
By this time, I'm sweating slightly and running over my conversation with Charlie in my head. Zane's got a plan, he had said. I don't know 'zactly what's gonna happen, but Zane want's ya to be co'operative. . . Well, he'd better have a plan! I was bottled up in a windowless room with a goddess about to question me on topics I may or may not be able to answer, awaiting some stroke of genius and bravery from unknown outside forces that would bust me out of here. What would these creeps do to me when this little session was over? Kill me? Give me to Jackson? Did Artemis herself have some complicated and painful plan on how to get rid of me? I had no idea, and I really hoped I would never find out.
When everyone has settled down, Chiron clears his throat. "Now, miss. . ." he addresses me ('miss' seems to have become my temporary name, with the lack of them knowing my real one. Well, it's better than 'beast' or 'animal,' eh?) "You'll have to forgive us for the informality—you see, we're not accustomed to having. . . prisoners."
He sounds like 'prisoner' is not quite the word that he wanted to use, but could not find any other way to say it.
I bare my fangs at him. "Don't mention it. You've made up for it with the fabulous basement," I hiss.
Jackson sniggers, catching my attention. My head whirls around to look at him, and I stiffen up. Tyson the cyclops and the Hunter girl make to lunge for me, but Artemis whips up a hand and they snap back, as if they are on leashes. I narrow my eyes at Jackson, and he stares frostily back, his sea green eyes boring into mine. After a moment, I plop down casually on my haunches, wrapping my tail around my paws. "So, Percy Jackson," I say with a slight smirk, "have you found a girlfriend yet? That last one you had was a good catch—too bad she got a little too close to the wrong people." I wink nastily at him, enjoying myself immensely. "Pity Hades has her now, isn't it? You're friend Di Angelo could probably do something about that I bet, that is, if he doesn't want her for himself. I wouldn't blame him, you know. She was a pretty little thing, before we got a hold of her."
"Percy. . ." Chiron warns quietly. At the door, the cyclops is glaring daggers at me, gnashing his teeth. The Hunter girl is plucking at the string on her bow. You can almost see the smoke coming out of her ears. Jackson however, seems to have shrunk slightly at the mention of Annabeth Chase. His eyes have darkened considerably, never leaving my own, and his hand drifts to the pocket of his jeans where I know his sword is kept while in pen form.
Chiron holds up his hands. "Let's just. . . settle down, now," he says calmly. "Percy, I will evict you from the room," he warns, "and that goes for the rest of you too." The centaur folds his hands in his lap, but the atmosphere of the room doesn't lighten. "Now, miss, we'll start simple," he says to me.
I raise an eyebrow.
Artemis takes over. "There have been multiple reports of you being heard in conversation with someone," the goddess says civilly. "Would you care to tell us who has managed to find a way into the basement, twice now?"
I cock my head to one side. "Aren't I allowed to have imaginary friends?" I ask innocently. "Two weeks of being cooped up in a basement like that, on minimal food, it's no wonder I haven't been feeling myself lately. Ask the cockroaches." Well, it wasn't a total lie. Not that I have any qualms at all about spinning white lies. I'm good at that.
Artemis stares me down. "I've also sensed the presence of another being in that room with you."
Okay, what? After half a moment of wondering how she can do that and why she uses such correct English, I smirk. "You apparently don't know what I'm capable of." There. Let them try to figure out what that means. And then they can tell me, because I don't know either.
Artemis does no more than exchange a look with Chiron. "I see."
The centaur frowns at me. "What are you willing to tell us about the location of the Golden Fleece, which you managed to confiscate from us the last time you were here?" he ventures.
I snort. "Absolutely nothing. Besides, I don't know where it is now anyway—I just stole it, I didn't hide it. Look, don't I get like, a phone call or something? Or just a drink would be nice too, you know. Licking condensation off the walls every morning just doesn't meet my needs."
Once again, Artemis and Chiron exchange a glance. "Did you by any chance dump the Fleece into the Hudson?" the centaur asks.
I grin wickedly. "As a matter of fact I did. It's not there anymore though, sorry."
Artemis sighs. "She tells the truth," the goddess confirms. "I checked myself, when I began to suspect. But the Fleece was long gone. They've hidden it again."
"Would she know where it is?" Chiron asks the goddess, ignoring me.
"Probably not. Only this Zane, as he calls himself, and possibly one or two of the highest ranking of their soldiers would know where it is hidden. This beast probably doesn't fall into that category."
Chiron begins to ask the goddess something else, but I am suddenly distracted. My head snaps up of it's own account, my ears perking as a muffled but familiar noise drifts to my ears from the other side of the wall, wherever that was. Before I can focus on it however, I catch myself and quickly wipe my face clean of expression once more, hoping nobody had noticed.
Unfortunately, most of them had. Artemis and Chiron go silent, and Tyson the cyclops tilts his head to one side, listening for the same noise that had caught my attention. For a moment there is nothing, but then I catch it again; A soft ticking sound, followed by an occasional beep, in the wall. Also, so faint through the thick walls of the room, I hear the sound of voices yelling, celestial bronze clashing against steel, roars. . . combat.
I leap to my paws, grinning from ear to ear. Kronos bless Charlie the mutant, wherever he was right now, and whoever else was about to blast down the wall. Without a trifle of doubt, I throw myself to the floor, several moments faster than the demigods, and cover my head with my paws. Probably two seconds later, there is a loud buzz, like the bomb is gearing itself up, followed by a bang that blows out the entire left wall.
I leap up, laughing like a lunatic as bits of rubble rain down on me and morning daylight, the likes of which I haven't seen in weeks, floods through the smoke and the dust that hazes that air. Behind me, I hear Jackson splutter and cough as he hauls himself to his feet, swearing heatedly in ancient Greek. Artemis and the Hunter girl have already extracted each other from the destroyed room and thrown themselves out into the battle raging in Camp Half-Blood. I bound over a pile of rubble, under which Chiron the centaur is feebly stirring, and out into the fresh air, inhaling deeply.
"Hi, Chrissy!"
I shake vigorously, getting the stiffness out of my muscles. "Hey, Charlie." I grin at the mutant. "Thanks for busting my out of there. What's going on?"
Charlie nods at the pandemonium that wreaks the camp. "The border fell, Chrissy!" he exclaims happily, shaking droplets of blood from who-knows-where off his claws. "The Gold'n Fleece's been gone fer so long, we managed to push through. Zane planned out a full-scale attack on this here camp, an' it seems to be workin' eh? Ery'one's here somewheres; Io jus' ran by, I think, and yer 'Awkeye's down settin' fire to the cabins again."
I shake my head, impressed. "How did you do it?" I ask, beginning to feel like myself again.
Charlie shrugs. "Dunno. Wasn't planned out real well, that much I knows. . . musta been luck, eh? We've had our fair share o' that so far, thank Titans. So now we're just waitin' to be pushed back by the godlin's, or for Zane to call a retreat."
I nod, watching a nearby demigod pursue a telekhine towards the border. Charlie notices the glint in my eye, and slaps me on the shoulder. "Go get 'em, Chrissy—I'll see ya 'round." With that, he whoops loudly scampers off in the direction of the sword arena, chasing down a tree nymph.
I stare after him for a moment, then follow his good advice and take off after the demigod, stretching out my muscles, sore from lack of use. I'm still starving and horribly weak and underfed, but my freedom has fueled me enough to compensate for the lack of physical fitness.
I easily close in on the demigod. She doesn't see me coming up behind her until it's too late, and I'm inches from crashing into her back. We hit the grass, rolling backwards down Half-Blood Hill and sending clumps of soil and bits of gore up in our wake (I have no sympathy for these jerks now—I don't care if the bodies I rip up are recognizable or not). We take out a satyr as we go, knocking him over and sending him sprawling into the maw of a hellhound.
Back at the bottom of the hill, I drop the carcass and haul myself into standing position, taking stock of my surroundings. The heart of the action seems to be taking place down at the sword arena, where there are the most people and explosions. Out in the strawberry fields, one of our Hyperborean giants is stepping on satyrs, squashing them flat, while back at the pegasi stables, the Sphinx and several telekhines have busted down a wall or two, sending the terrified animals scattering. Near the edge of the forest, with smoke from the burning cabins wafting through the trees, our hellhounds are hunting the tree nymphs, taking our three or four at a time as they catch the creatures in their gigantic jaws.
But we're losing soldiers, too. The Hunters of Artemis are freaking maniacs with those knives they carry, and dead shots with their bows and arrows. They have a menagerie of white animals at their command also, creatures such as timber wolves and cougars, with glittering, snowy white pelts that seem to carry stardust in their fur. And Artemis herself, of course, is wreaking havoc on our numbers, fighting back to back with her lieutenant Thalia, taking out telekhines and mutants left and right. Mrs. O' Leary is engaged in combat with another hellhound, probably Mokkan or Katrina, and Tyson the cyclops is wrestling one of our giants. High above our heads, the camp's harpies are attacking another dark flying figure which I recognize after a moment, and with a tiny anxious tightening in my chest, as Kodiak.
After a moment's consideration I take off towards the sword arena, dipping between duels and avoiding occasional arrows from the Hunters as I bound for the battle. Smoke from the burning cabins chokes the fighters as they battle each other, staining the sword arena red.
I immediately spot Hawkeye and Zane; Hawkeye and Nico Di Angelo are at each others throats right in the center of the arena, a circle having been cleared around them to give them space. Zane is taking on anything that gets in his way; he has a spear in one hand and half of a broken sword in another, with a demigod dangling from his arm and a tree nymph wrapped around his neck. He doggedly battles Clarisse the Drakon Charmer while a group of satyrs prance around him, playing riffs on their pipes as they attempt, unsuccessfully, to transform him into a plant of some kind.
Damian grins as he catches sight of me from across the battle, and we fight our way to each other. I morph into human when we meet up and press my back against his, braining a passing demigod and borrowing his sword. "How you doing, man?" I call over to my shoulder at the one-eyed boy.
I feel him shrug against my back as he uses his bow to choke a satyr. "Pretty good, thanks for asking. How about you? Charlie told us that the basement they were keeping you in wasn't helping your mental state."
"Are you kidding? I was terrified I'd never be normal again. I was talking to imaginary cockroaches, for Kronos's sake!" I exclaim as I fend off an attack from a demigod, wincing slightly as he slips beneath my arm and lands a shallow slash across my cheek.
Damian laughs darkly. "Cockroaches, Christine?" he asks, clearly amused.
"Oh, shut up," I snap, wiping blood from my jaw. "I just know that there's one part of this camp you won't catch me in for a while. Charlie blew out a wall though—that helps, of course."
Damian catches the wrist of a demigod as they make to bring a long stiletto knife down on his neck, wrenching the weapon away from the demigod and burying the blade deep into the shoulder of another. "Split!" he yells at me, lunging to the side as an arrow from one of the Hunters whizzes past my head.
I roll away from him and into the crowd, pushing aside a tree nymph beating on the head of a telekhine with a stick and slamming her into the dirt to get trampled by a giant scorpion. The same giant scorpion, I realize, that helped me burn down the cabins last time there was a battle here. He must recognize me too, because he pauses for a minute to study me before tossing himself back onto the satyr he had been disassembling.
A Hunter of Artemis chooses that moment to leap onto my back, and I morph into wolf beneath her, making her loose her grip and slide off. She's back on her feet in a moment though, and we both soon carry injuries inflicted by the other. Finally I shove my way past her bow and make a snap at her ankles. My teeth find her left foot and I yank back hard, throwing her off balance and sending her toppling into the dust, where I quickly finish her off.
And then, high above us, one of the Hyperborean giants howls as several harpies attack his face, scratching and stabbing out his eyes despite his attempts to fight them off. Mrs. O' Leary the hellhound streaks up and throws herself forward, crashing into the giant's knees. Both hellhound and giant topple over, making the earth shake as they hit the ground, destroying everything beneath them. A mutant staggers by, dragging his useless, maimed leg behind him as he races for the safety of the other side of the border. Up on Half-Blood Hill, the Sphinx is being brutally attacked by Tyson the cyclops.
We're being beaten back. Whether it's from the demigods determination, or if we're just not focused, I can't tell, but I also notice that we're slightly outnumbered. Jackson has joined the fight now too, which can't be helping the least bit.
I leap onto a demigod and slam his face into the ground before being sent rolling as a small bomb of Greek fire explode near my head, deafening me. When I leap to my feet again, I find myself beside Zane, who has managed to shake off Clarisse the Drakon Destroyer.
"Savage!" he yells at me. "You get out of there all right?" he asks, clearly referring to the basement of the Big House.
"Yeah, thanks," I pant, snapping at a tree nymph as she skitters by with a satyr. "We're losing the battle though."
Zane nods as he draws a small knife from his belt. It sings through the air as he launches it at a demigod, and the boy falls, the blade hilt protruding from between his shoulder blades. "I know," he says. "I'm waiting for Hawkeye."
"To do what?" I ask indignantly as I dodge a sword and tackle one of the Hunters' glittery white timber wolves.
"He has a score to settle with a certain son of Hades," Zane explains.
"Yeah, well, he'd better hurry up," I mutter, pinning the timber wolf beneath me and sinking my teeth into it's neck.
That's when the rumbling started. I lift my head from the bloody mess of the timber wolf and perk my ears, trying to pinpoint the sound, but it seems to be coming from everywhere. A telekhine on the other side of the arena is the first to discover the source. "Retreat!" he yells, as a wall of blue sea water rises above the trees, drenching everything in it's wake.
I swear loudly, breaking away from the battle. Jackson did this during the Battle of the Labyrinth too, when the forest had been set afire. Not only did it put out the fire, but it drowned a lot of our own soldiers. This time, the wave is at least twice as big.
The wall of water roars like a living thing as it envelops the camp, and before I really know what has happened, it bears down on the fighters in the arena. The ice cold water comes as a shock after the heat and intensity of the battle, sweeping across the land. For several long, oddly silent seconds, all is silent, peaceful almost, beneath the surface of the sea wave. My breath is ripped from my throat by the sudden change in surroundings and I'm swept off my paws for a brief amount of time, carried along by the current.
Just as fast as the wave arrived, it passes, sweeping over Half-Blood Hill and shrinking out of existence as Jackson let's it go. The entire camp is left drenched and badly out of shape, and the Rebels begin a very undignified retreat for the other side of the border, swarming across the soggy grass.
I shake myself off and try to take stock of my surroundings from where I am. The wave carried me about fifteen yards closer to the hill, and there are Rebels scattered everywhere. The good thing is that the water messed up the demigods just as much as it did us, and they aren't making a very impressive attempt to run us out. Jackson alone seems to be in condition to majorly kick butt; he's making short work of any Rebel that drifts within his grasp.
But then he spots me.
You can almost see the change come over him as, from his sleeve, he draws a long slender knife. I don't need to be close to him to know what he plans on doing, and there's no way to escape it. I have nothing to hide behind, no trees, no buildings—nothing but a straight stretch of grass between me and the border.
I turn and run for it, knowing that my unnatural speed is my only chance of survival. If I can just get across the border. . . I think as I push myself for all I'm worth. But I'm not quite fast enough.
His strength enhanced by the Achilles curse, I hear the blade whistle as it heads for me, the same way Zane's did not long before. I can't outrun it.
I wince at the sound of the blade hitting flesh, and am knocked forward by a dark furry shape. I close my eyes as I roll along the grass, expecting to be dead.
But I'm not. There isn't even any pain.
I sit up and blink. There's blood, I can smell it. . . but it's not mine.
I gasp as realization hits me, and whirl to look back down the hill. About halfway down, crumpled and small in death, lies Charlie X, the mutant runner, the handle of Jackson's knife sticking out of the side of his skull. He had taken the knife for me. For the first time in my entire life, someone had sacrificed something important to them, something huge, for me. Charlie had killed himself so that I could live.
Realization of this, that someone has died so that I could live, renders me immobile. I stand there on the soaking wet grass, staring at the skinny black body, unable to move as Rebels streak by me for the safety of the border.
Charlie had bothered, no, Charlie had cared enough, to do that for me. To die. For me. On purpose.
"Christine, what are you doing? Come on!" Io, my roommate, yells as she screeches to a halt beside me. She roughly grabs the scruff of my neck and hauls me around, half dragging me for the border with the last of the Rebels.
Her touch jolts me out of my shock, and I take her advice and continue to dash for the border. We make it across uninterrupted, but right before I cross, I turn to look back down the hill at the little black body with the knife handle growing from it's head, and pain explodes inside me, unbidden, unwelcome. But there.
And I turn away to escape with the rest of the surviving Rebels, leaving behind me Charlie X, the mutant runner.
