Oh look! It's Friday. Here's your Friday chapter, but just a heads-up. Winter break for my school's coming up in the next week, so I'll be uploading new chapters more often—most likely every time I get bored, which will be quite frequent. You're welcome. :)
4/
Percy's POV
I jumped over the seats as Annabeth pushed Tony off to the side. "Hi, Damien," I greeted, slicing at him first.
Taken by surprise, he took a cut to his chest. "Perseus," he said, unfazed. His British accent felt…slimy somehow.
Slimy limey. We were fighting so fast no mortal's eyes could've seen our moves. I caught a glimpse of Tony finishing off Ice Girl and Annabeth still fighting Anastasia, but I couldn't focus on that now. I concentrated on not dying.
The subway car took a turn, throwing all of us to the side. I heard Tony smash into the windows and Annabeth growl in pain. Damien took advantage of my distraction and elbowed me in the back hard, then kicked the back of my knee, forcing me down. I was 97% sure he was going to at least try to take my head off right then and there, but a rock the size of my fist flew out of nowhere, knocking Damien out with a nice, satisfying smack.
"Thanks," I told Annabeth.
"Welcome," she replied, holding her shoulder. Her leg was covered in blood, and so was Tony's face.
"Damn," I sighed.
"Damn," Tony agreed.
Annabeth looked up. "Holy. Shit." Even from where we stood, we could see a huge crevice in the ground, ready to swallow up the moving train.
"GO!" I yelled. Tony and I started toward the back of the car, but Annabeth dived straight out the window.
"Did she just—?"
"Yeah!" I yelled. "Come on!" I went after her. I rolled when I hit the ground, but the floor was still, well, hard. "OW!" I yelled.
"Run!" Annabeth shouted.
I groaned, thinking Why? But then I saw it.
"You're KIDDING me!" Tony screamed.
"I hate that thing!" I yelled.
The Minotaur. Annabeth, Tony, and me ran for our lives, hoping we wouldn't have to fight that thing. The tunnel was dark. The tracks hurt my feet. My face stung against the wind.
"Percy!"
I turned halfway to see Annabeth fall, clutching her bleeding leg. I honestly was surprised she made it as far as we did with that wound. I doubled back immediately to grab her. She tried to get up, but her leg gave out from under her.
"Guys, come on!" Tony shouted. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't drag her with me; she couldn't walk. Finally I just picked her up bridal style and we kept going. Her blood was staining my shirt. Her fingernails dug into my shoulder. She was heavy. I didn't care.
"Hurry!" Tony was far ahead, diving through a random door in the tunnel wall.
I ran inside with Annabeth, slamming the door behind me. I breathed hard, waiting for the Cyclops's pounding steps to pass. I sighed in relief when they faded. I frowned. Tony was staring blankly at the room in front of us. I gave him a weird look, but when I saw what he saw, I didn't blame him. "What the…?"
Soldiers were lying all over the room. They wore old-style Greek helmets and armor, but none of them were awake. They were snoring away. Their skin looked sandy, like if you poked one of them, your finger would sink in. They didn't move, they didn't wake up. They just sat. The whole room seemed to be made of dirt. The ceiling was higher than you'd think, while the room itself was long, like a big hallway or something. It was surprisingly warm inside, like it was summer. [A/N: It's really spring-going-into-summer, btw.]
I set Annabeth down. "Ow," she growled. "Thanks."
"No problem," I said, still staring at the sleeping guys. "What is this?"
"Korybantes," Annabeth grimaced, wincing as she checked out her leg wound. "Dammit, I need a tourniquet."
"A what?" Tony said, dazed. She reached over and ripped the bottom of his shirt off. "Hey!" he protested.
She raised one eyebrow. "Tourniquet," she emphasized, tying the ripped cloth around her leg.
"No, what are Korybantes?" I said.
"Servants of Gaea," she answered.
"Why are they asleep?" Tony wondered.
Annabeth looked up. "Gaea's asleep. Her servants won't wake up unless she does." She frowned a little. "Let's hope she never does."
"What should we do?" I said.
"Don't touch them," she warned. "You never know what they could do, even if they are asleep."
Tony and me nodded. We picked our way past the Korybantes to look for a way out. Pretty soon we split up, trying not to wake any of the sleeping guys.
"Do you see anything?" Tony called to me.
"No," I called back. "Do you?" I stepped carefully over another Korybanty. All I could see was pitch-black, except for the faint glow of Riptide. And a Korybanty every couple feet.
"Um—Ouch!" The sound of him tripping over something.
"Tony?" Annabeth's voice. I couldn't see her when I looked back. I kept walking, trying not to trip over feet I couldn't see.
Suddenly there was another tripping noise, followed by a crunch. "OW! Mother—!"
"Tony, man, are you there?" I stopped in my tracks, turning toward the sound of my best friend's voice in concern.
"I'm fine!" he said thickly, like he was talking without his nose. "I fell."
"What do you see?" I asked him.
"Uh, I think I see a way out!"
"You do?" Annabeth sounded hopeful and interested at the same time.
I stumbled my way back to her. I pulled her to her feet. "We're coming," I told Tony. I helped her limp over to my friend's voice.
He dropped his blood-soaked shirt from his face as I managed into view. Annabeth limped over to him, stopping for a second to examine his nose, which was crooked and still trickling blood. "Broken," she informed him.
"Thanks, Athena," he said sarcastically. She kicked him with her good leg. Then she ducked into an opening I hadn't seen. I followed her to peek over her shoulder. In front of us was a normal dirt wall, but my head bent farther and farther back as I looked up, following the long tunnel with my eyes. It went up and up and up, finally leading to a tiny speck of white so small I wasn't sure if it was my imagination or not.
"I'd say it goes straight to the surface," Annabeth said. "I'm not sure, but I think this is one of Zephyr's caves. He's the west wind," she added as Tony and I opened our mouths.
"I…don't get it," I said slowly.
"The winds are restless," she explained. "They like to go everywhere just because they can. Zephyr's the one who has the most tunnels underground, so I'm assuming this one is his."
I frowned in puzzlement. "Okay, so what, do we just—whoa!" A powerful wind swept me off my feet suddenly, blowing me high into the tunnel. My stomach was abandoned on the ground. I was floating in midair. "Get me the hell down from here!" I yelled. I tried not to think about how high I was.
"No! It's him!" Annabeth called. "Percy, just stay still! He won't drop you unless we give him a reason to!" I squinted as she pulled out a baggie of slightly-squashed ambrosia. She held it up high. "Zephyr, we need your help!" she yelled. The baggie vanished from her hand suddenly. The floor swirled up to me. The next thing I knew I was hyperventilating on my back.
Tony bent over me. "Dude, you okay?" he asked, pulling me up.
"Fine," I lied. "That was fun." We turned just in time to see a face pop out of thin air in front of us: a guy around nineteen years old, with curly hair and a big goofy grin way too similar to Tony's.
"Demigods!" he yelled. "Haven't seen YOUR kind in millennia!" His breath was like a giant fan, blowing back our hair and clothes.
Annabeth limped forward. "Zephyr, we need your help."
"Goin' to the top, eh?" he grinned wider, which didn't seem possible.
"Yes," I answered before Annabeth could.
Zephyr's bodiless head cocked. "Hm."
"We're on a quest," Annabeth added.
The wind god's eyes flashed to us. "Really? For Camp Half-Blood?"
"Yup," Tony said with a grin. "Goin' to Washington D.C."
He seemed to think about it. "Well, I do have to return that to Notus… Yes, I suppose I could drop you three off…"
"Thank you," Annabeth said. She smiled in relief.
Zephyr's expression should've gone with a shrug. "Yes, well, when you see what's in Washington, you won't be thanking me." Confusion flashed across all our faces, but before any of us could ask Zephyr what he was talking about, we were surrounded by a whirl of air, shooting us at lightning speed to the top of the tunnel. We shot out like bullets, hitting the ground hard.
We were sitting on the sidewalk. It looked like the sewer was our exit. Great. I made a face. I looked around. No way we were in New York. Philly, maybe?
I got up, dusting off my clothes. "What was that about?"
Tony grumbled. "That guy was a real air-head, no pun intended." His nose was still squashed. "Hey, Annabeth, throw me the nectar. I need to fix the prettiest part of my face."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. She dug around in her backpack and brought out a small aluminum thermos. She took a swig, then threw it to Tony. She unwrapped her leg, watching it carefully as it closed up. "Ow," she complained.
"Ditto," Tony said, his eyes watering as his nose reshaped itself. "Ugh, I need a new shirt."
"Yeah," I agreed. It was soaked with blood and mud. Mine probably wasn't much better. "What did Zephyr mean 'When we find what's in Washington'?"
"I have no idea," Annabeth said, grimacing as she got to her feet. "But I have absolutely no desire to find out."
"We kind of have to," Tony reminded her.
"I know," she sighed. "Come on. I think there's a bus station that way." She pointed north.
"Okay," Tony and me grumbled. "Let's go, then." We trudged off to the station under the hot sun, thirsty, tired, and hungry.
"We are in Philadelphia," I realized, looking over the bus routes at the station.
"Great," Tony groaned. "That means we've got like a zillion miles to cross."
"140," Annabeth corrected.
"Whatever." We boarded the bus—Greyhound, it turned out. It was hot and stuffy inside, filled with homeless, half-asleep, or really fat mortals who didn't look twice at us. Thank the gods. If they knew what we were, they would not be happy. The three of us squished into one seat.
"Okay," Annabeth said almost immediately. "This bus goes as far Newark, so from there we can either get a cab, walk, or take another bus."
"Or hitchhike," Tony suggested.
Annabeth shook her head. "It's better we don't talk to mortals too much."
I agreed. We sat for what seemed (and probably was) hours, zoning in and out, occasionally eyeing a new mortal boarding the bus. Tony was asleep within ten minutes, snoring on my shoulder. I was a second from falling asleep myself when Annabeth nudged me from my other side.
"What?" I demanded, annoyed. She jerked her chin toward the window. I turned. I recognized them with a shock of electricity down my spine. Three shriveled old ladies, rocking under a shady tree, knitting a giant pair of bright blue mittens, almost like they were supposed to match the huge socks I'd seen so long ago. "What are they doing here?"
Annabeth was frowning. "I don't know. But they rarely show themselves unless they have something to say." We turned back to watch.
The lady on the right, Clotho, pulled something from her pocket: a thin, ragged, ash-gray string, held together by one tiny thread. She handed it feebly to the Fate in the center, Lachesis, who unraveled it and held it up, as if showing it to me. Atropos snipped viciously at it with large bronze scissors, but the thread reformed itself immediately. All three of them looked at me expectantly. Lachesis raised the thread high.
A car blocked them from view, and when it passed, they were gone.
"What was that?" I said after a minute. Annabeth was thinking hard when I looked at her. "Annabeth, stop thinking so hard. I can see the gears turning and it's really creeping me out."
She scowled at me. "They aren't happy," she concluded. "That thread, I think they're trying to tell us that the dead aren't dying right."
"What?" I protested. "We're on our way to fix it, aren't we?"
She shook her head. "Yeah, well, they're giving us a warning: hurry up. We're running out of time."
Alice's POV
I adjusted Nicole's arm at the last second. Her arrow thudded inches from the center. She grinned, pleased. I smiled at her in approval, but in reality I didn't feel like teaching.
I had a headache. As Nicole went to retrieve her arrow, my eyes drifted to the west border in boredom, like they've been doing all day long. Nicole's lessons had become increasingly difficult to endure since my brother left on his quest. My worries had been mounting. I grimaced as I spotted Tatiana Taylor go by, looking tiny between Matt and Devon Harding of Cabin Five.
Things had been quiet before she appeared. Shawn Spencer's lyre filled the silence almost every day. Cabin Ten had lacked its usual shrieks and squeals. Even Travis and Connor's Stoll's pranks had subsided.
Then Tatiana stumbled across the boundary, set me on fire (which made me grateful I'm flame retardant), and almost got Peleus killed by the Chimera. Clarisse managed to kill it, but when we realized Tatiana's way-too-close resemblance to Anastasia, everyone's mind immediately turned to one word: Spy.
Everyone was careful—too careful—after Silena Beauregard. A beautiful girl, a good person, who loved everyone and was loved by everyone. Tatiana was too close to Silena. Cabin Ten was barely recovering from the trauma.
I doubted Tatiana was a spy, though I said nothing. The girl had a nature far different than Anastasia's, even before we began to interrogate her. Anastasia was forever cold, unfeeling, able to kill without experiencing remorse, able to endure pain without expression. Tatiana was scared; it shone in her brown eyes. She couldn't understand why we didn't trust her. She didn't know why we kept constant watch on her. She felt broken at the thought of the whole camp being suspicious, her extended family hating her. She was not Anastasia.
But I couldn't help being cautious. Too many traitors.
"Alice, got a message for you," Adam Blair [A/N: Recast as a Hermes demigod, for those of you who remember him] from Cabin Eleven was holding out a card expectantly when I looked up.
"Thank you, Adam," I replied. He nodded, then literally flew off in a blur of speed with his bag of messages.
When I looked down, I found the message was written in Greek, as usual. That proved to be no problem. Greek came easily, as you should know by now: Summer had a vision. Not good. Come to the border immediately. –Simon
I tapped the card with my finger; it dissolved into blue-green dust, as designed. Thank you, Sophie Salazar. I complied to the message immediately.
Summer Todd was now our Oracle. She lived in the attic, which had been furnished to her liking. Simon wasn't allowed in, but he visited Summer at the border almost every day. He hadn't been able to get near lately, but I guessed he was there now.
"Where's Summer?" was the first thing I said to Simon.
He pointed at his sister. "I think she's waiting for you."
Summer was sitting stiffly on a large boulder, her eyelids tightly closed. Her mouth twitched slightly. I approached her and bowed. "Hail, Oracle of Delphi. Speak your prophecy."
Her eyes flashed open, glowing serpent green. Emerald smoke drifted forth from her mouth, curling around the two of us with the ancient scent of snakes.
"Three shall go south, to face the gates of Death,
Where the spirits drawn to life await with bated breath,
The subjects ready to bar their path,
Steady with a fiery wrath,
The chosen three shall soothe the hate of our creation,
To save the beating heart of the immortals' nation,
While the home of the hybrids defends against assault,
The habitants on only one shall put the fault,
The enemy watches with canine skill,
Preparing to pounce for the ordered kill,
In all, our foes shall retreat into black,
But none can prevent the dead coming back."
On the last word the Oracle collapsed off the rock. Simon immediately ran to pick her up. I frowned, pondering the words now burned into my memory.
Summer was waving Simon away when I looked back at her. "Did you give this prophecy to Percy?" I asked.
She looked a little confused. "Percy didn't come see me at all this week."
I sighed. "My brother is such an idiot."
"Agreed," she smiled. "I assume after the first Great Prophecy he didn't want to go through it again."
I ran a hand through my hair. "Well, the first line is complete, at least."
Puzzlement passed over her face. "What do you mean?" I repeated her prophecy. She frowned. "I don't even remember what I said."
"I know," I said. "You will soon enough.
Simon spoke for the first time. "Percy, Annabeth, and Tony have already left to 'face the gates of Death', right? That's good…?"
"Not really," Summer told him.
"I don't like the odds of this new prophecy," I said. I turned back to camp.
"Where are you going?" Simon wanted to know.
I paused. "To strengthen our borders. From the sound of it, the dead are coming back to life."
the Order POV
Anastasia rapped her fingers on the table impatiently. "Are you done yet?"
Jessica Marina's fingers grew colder in annoyance. "No. Stop fidgeting. I'm not a medic, but if you keep doing that, your leg's going to bleed all over again."
The daughter of Hecate stopped moving instantly, except to wrap and unwrap her hair around her finger. Stupid daughter of Athena, she thought sourly. It had taken Jessica three hours to surgically remove that metal rod from Anastasia's leg—without anesthesia. Her eyes drifted. At least Damien wasn't much better. That damned girl knocked him out before he could kill the cursed son of Poseidon. Her hand clenched. Why did they keep losing? Anastasia knew full well her team was better than theirs.
True, she could've beheaded Annabeth Chase at the drop of a pin. She'd been teasing her, letting her believe she could beat Anastasia. But it had gotten out of hand…and now here they were. At least she'd left her own mark on Annabeth.
Anastasia flinched in surprise when Jessica crudely ripped out the rough stitches deep in her leg. The icy, frost-filmed pale blue eyes glittered at the sight of the leader showing emotion; members of the order weren't permitted to show pain. Or thanks. Or remorse. No emotion was better than too much of it. Anastasia kicked Jessica with her good leg, who got back to work.
It was times like this Anastasia almost wished Tess hadn't gotten pregnant and killed, despite the betrayal. She was respectful, quiet, did the work without asking questions. Most of that was out of fear, but Anastasia didn't care. Hecate wasn't happy when Tess and Leo escaped—along with the son of Poseidon and the daughter of Athena.
"Anastasia." She looked up. Eliana Monterey stood in the doorway.
Karapet Nychta and Ryan Marshall abruptly cut off their one-way argument to stare at Eliana. Carissa Johnson paused in drawing a WANTED poster of Sofia Foss blindfolded. Megan Morgan froze mid-throw, her knife narrowly missing Michael's face. Even Hanna Gonzales and Johnny Nickels silenced their bickering to listen.
"What?" Anastasia demanded in a sort of monotone.
Eliana's face grew grim. Anastasia suddenly was very very aware of the profile in her hand; the only letters she could make out of the name was …IANA TAYLOR. She stiffened instantly. She knew that name.
Eliana knew it too.
"We have a problem."
Percy's POV
"Hey. Hey, kid. Wake up."
I opened my eyes to a pencil in my side. The bus driver was staring down at me, holding the other end of the Ticonderoga pencil. Glancing past him, I realized me, Tony, and Annabeth were the only ones left on board. The driver didn't seem too happy that he had to wake us up, either.
Next thing I knew, Annabeth and me were watching the bus drive away, holding up the still-snoring Tony between us. She rubbed her eyes. "Gods, it was so hot on that bus."
"Agreed," I said. I "whoa"d as Tony started sinking to the floor. I held him back up. "Now what?"
She pointed at an IHOP across the street. "We'll just crash there for a while. How much money do we have left?"
I dug in my pocket to bring it out. "Um, around two hundred bucks." She double-checked my math, then nodded appreciatively. She helped me load Tony on my back, and we stumbled across to the IHOP.
The hostess eyed us suspiciously as we walked in. "What's up with your friend?"
"Fell asleep on the way," Annabeth told her. "We're supposed to eat here before we take him home."
The woman frowned, but she looked like she bought our story. She gave us a table in the back, saying, "Your waiter will be with you shortly."
Tony was now drooling on Annabeth's shoulder. She wrinkled her nose, then jerked her shoulder so hard he fell on mine instead. I gave her the evil eye, but she was calmly looking over the menu, looking up only once to smirk at me. Tony snorted in his sleep, then seriously started snuggling with my shoulder. I was on the verge of pouring syrup down his shirt when Annabeth smiled her 'I got an idea' grin.
"What?" I said warily.
She opened her mouth, but then a young woman appeared, with that fake-waitress smile pasted on her face. "Hi, I'm Alexis," she said way too perkily. "I'll be your server today." She whipped out a pen and a pad expertly. "Are we all ready to order?"
"Yes," Annabeth jumped in. "I need a bowl of oatmeal with cut-up sausages in it." Alexis the waitress and me stared at her like she was insane.
"What?" I said.
"You'll see," was all she said.
"Um, just give me some chocolate chip pancakes," I told Alexis, who wrote it down, still eyeing Annabeth weirdly.
"Do you want eggs or toast with that?"
I made a face as Alexis brought over the oatmeal/sausage chunks, and my pancakes, which were, sadly, not blue. But I inhaled them anyway. Annabeth stole some of them when she thought I wasn't looking, but since I was sure she would throw up if she ate what she ordered, I let her.
"Ugh, what are you doing with that?" I said in disgust as she started mixing her orange juice in it.
She smirked at me. "Just watch." She took the bowl—then smashed it over Tony's head, making very realistic gagging noises like she just threw up. Tony sat up so fast a chunk of oatmeal-sausage flew off his forehead and nailed someone else three booths away from us.
"UGH, GODS F*** IT, WHO BARFED ON ME?" he yelled, turning every head in IHOP our way.
Annabeth and I were laughing so hard we fell out of our chairs. It was so funny we didn't even care that Alexis showed up with the manager and kicked us out with a cold steel-toed boot. (Metaphorically.)
Tony was not happy that we fake-puked on him, but we just kept laughing as we helped him wipe the concoction off his head. "Can't believe you guys did that to me," he grumbled. "This is like the millionth time this happened."
"Then you should stop falling asleep near us," Annabeth chuckled. I slapped her a rare high-five.
Tony scowled. "Whatever."
I sighed. "All my H's and A's are gone." [A/N: Geddit? H-A? HA?]
Annabeth shook her head at my bad joke. "Okay," she checked her watch, "we have two days, seventeen hours, twelve minutes, and ten—no, seven seconds until the deadline."
I looked at her funny. "What deadline?"
She blinked at me. "You saw Summer, didn't you? She usually gives us like three days to make it to wherever we're going. Four, if you're lucky."
A wave of guilt washed over me. "Oh, yeah," I said, pretending to realize something. I did a face-palm. "Sorry."
I felt like she saw through me with those intimidating gray eyes, but she just smiled. "Seaweed brain," she chided.
"Shut up," I told her. "We have to decide how to get to D.C. from here, anyway."
"Right," Tony said, wiping the last of the disgusting-looking fake barf off his forehead. "So, cab, another bus, or hitchhike?"
"No bus," I said.
"And we should save our money," Annabeth added. She didn't look so happy, but she said, "I guess hitchhiking it is."
Tony jumped a foot in the air with an epic fist pump. "YES! I love hitchhiking!"
"How would you know how to hitchhike?" I asked.
He stopped bouncing. "I have the best hitchhiker's thumb!"