And now, the chapter you've all been waiting for...
18/
Nico's POV
Percy still seemed stunned after Annabeth's message dissolved. We all had our different reactions to that encounter. He was dazed, Thalia was glaring, I was smirking—'cause, you know, it's not everyday you can beat a daughter of Athena to the punch. Of course, I knew she'd get me for that later, but I really couldn't take all the secrecy anymore than Thalia could.
Her mention of a Titan's visit managed to shake Percy from his trance, and he followed Thals into the trees, ordering me to help Annabeth right now.
The shadow-travel to Annabeth's battle was short-lived, and so was her fighting. Or, it would've been if I hadn't shown up to take care of it.
Bodies of people I refused to look at littered the ground, staining the grass red. My father's security would get overrun by spirits this time. Images of deaths—repeated over and over—flashed through my mind, but I clenched my jaw and they went away.
I found Annabeth herself pinned under an empousa, trying to choke the she-demon and flailing for her knife at the same time. I killed the empousa in one stab, then flipped up Annabeth's knife with my foot and gave it to her.
"Aren't you supposed to be resting in your condition?" I joked.
"Maybe," she said calmly. Then she punched me in the face.
"OW!" I yelled. "What the f—" I cut myself off. "What was that for?"
Her eyes flashed in sudden anger (hormones). "Breaking your promise. Now are you just gonna stand here or are you gonna help me?"
"Eh," I responded. She smiled, changing emotions again, then whipped on her hat.
"Be careful, Nico. If anyone's gonna kill you, it's gonna be me."
I shuddered. A clang on my armor gave a nice welcome to none other than Karapet Nychta, daughter of Erebus, who apparently had shaken off whoever she was fighting and was trying to behead me.
"You're in my way, di Angelo."
"Could've said the same to you, Nychta."
She regarded me with a slightly disgusted expression, like she'd just stepped in crap in the park. "Doesn't matter," she decided. "Anastasia will decide what to do with you." And with that, she pulled me into the soul-sucking, dark, emptiness of space—or, the space between spaces, if you get my meaning.
"I'm the son of Hades, Kara," I taunted. "My power outmatches yours." I silently sent a few spirits to find her in the dark.
Karapet's disembodied laugh was creepy. "You mean the ones your father's been giving you? They're worthless! The gods' gifts are designed to destroy the receiver, di Angelo. Don't you know?"
That sentence struck me as odd, but made total sense at the same time. The gods are always out for blood one way or another, and I knew most of them wouldn't really mind if I disappeared off the face of the earth. But would my dad really kill me? He did say it would be better if Bianca had lived instead of me. But that was a long time ago; he didn't feel that way anymore, did he?
I figured if my dad wanted me dead, he would've vaporized me already. I mean, unless Persephone was helping him, then they would come up with some deceiving plan to destroy me slowly and painfully.
Then again, my dad wasn't one for slowly. He was more for fast death, so he could get it over with and get rid of the enemy quicker. Even if he did have some diabolical plan with Persephone, he would've ignored it and sent some Furies or something to do whatever he wanted.
"Sic her," I whispered. I felt something brush past me in the dark, then a scream of terror. Cold air whooshed by, and I suddenly found myself back in the battle, with Karapet Nychta screaming under the pack of spirits trying to tear her apart.
I wasn't going to torment her like that. I'm not one for torture. Never was, never will be. I've seen…way too much pain for my taste. I made my decision. "Finish her," I told them. Karapet was dragged into the ground, her last shriek still surviving as a painful echo in my ears.
I suddenly became very, very aware of Ryan Marshall standing in front of me, staring at the ground where Karapet had just been. His knives hung at his side. When he looked up at me, anger flashed across his eyes in a fiery glint.
I didn't even realize he'd lunged at me till I was on my back, my sword keeping Ryan's knives inches from my face. The expression on his face clearly stated I'd crossed the wrong line by killing Karapet. And he was going to make me pay for it, no matter what it cost him.
To both our utter shock, a slender, manicured finger tapped lightly on Ryan's armored shoulder with a slight clicking sound.
"Perdoneme, señor," a girl's voice said calmly. Ryan whipped around—and got a face-full of shotgun pellets. I stared at him in stunned silence for a second, then I looked up to see that manicured hand extended to me.
The owner of the hand was literally drop-dead gorgeous, and trust me, I know what that means. She was also vaguely familiar. Brown wavy hair spilled over her shoulders, her lips shaped in a natural pout, her dark eyes glinted with curious interest. She raised an eyebrow when I didn't take her hand, then pumped the forestock with her free one, littering the ground with shotgun shells.
I gripped her hand finally. "Who're you?"
A mysterious glint appeared in her eye. "Hablas Espanol?"
"Uh, no."
She smiled—even when she was smiling she looked like she was pouting. "That is too bad." Her accent was thick, signaling she was from Mexico, maybe South America. It was strangely…sexy. "Maria. Maria Gallegos." She pronounced like guy-yeh-goes. I recognized the name instantly; I was sure she recognized me as well, but I decided to play along.
"Haven't seen you around here."
"No," she mused. A little smile appeared on her lips. "Where…is Anastasia Chaldean?"
I frowned. "Why would you be looking for her?"
Maria cocked her head. "I have my…reasons."
"di Angelo!" Annabeth shouted from somewhere to my right. "What are you doing? Take Anastasia down!"
"Kinda busy here!" I yelled back.
Maria was smiling when I looked back at her. "Don't worry, cariño. Anastasia is mine."
I watched her bound off into the crowd, feeling dazed. The mention of Anastasia's name had me looking for the crazed daughter of Hecate instantly. The sight of her…jarred me.
Her crazy eyes were fixed on none other than Irina Romanov as she slashed through campers and Order monsters alike. Her intentions were clear as day. Irina stabbed through a hellhound, then turned to meet Anastasia's hard glare calmly.
She twisted a ring on her finger. A spear extended in her grip, but it was much bigger than Clarisse's or Thalia's. It was as tall as her, its razor-sharp point flashing a warning to every enemy in the growing sunlight.
A savage snarl ripped through Anastasia's lips, and she charged her sister with all the might of Hecate's favorite daughter.
Irina raised her chin defiantly. Then—suddenly I found myself between them, holding Anastasia off with my sword and Irina's spear like an X. Anastasia hissed viciously at me—a wordless promise she would kill me slowly and painfully. She glared over my shoulder at Irina.
"I should've burned your body to ashes," she hissed.
Irina frowned at her younger sister. "I should have hunted you down, sestra." Her expression turned a tiny bit sad for a fraction of a second. "You have changed much since your past life."
"I am not the grand duchess," Anastasia snarled. "I'm Mother's favorite daughter."
Irina looked down at her in pity. "No matter the status, you shall always be my sister, shvizbik."
Anastasia hissed at the word. Her free hand lifted a stray knife from somewhere in her armor.
"NO!" Tatiana shouted. She ran towards them, but Anastasia had her in a Darth Vader chokehold without even looking. Tatiana was frozen in a block of stone suddenly. Irina's eyes narrowed.
Out of nowhere, there was the click of a gun. I caught sight of Maria behind Anastasia, glaring hard at the back of her head.
"Hola, hermana," Maria spoke softly, but there was hardness behind her words. "Why is it I always find you abusing our siblings? Por que?" When Anastasia didn't answer, Maria frowned. "Adios… Imp." The explosion of a shotgun being fired, followed by the crunch of metal, stunned us. Anastasia's eyes drifted out of focus slowly. Then she dropped.
"Oh, great, who are you?" Clarisse la Rue demanded, sounding annoyed. Her voice broke our trance, and we turned to continue fighting, but the army was gone, just like that.
"Maria Gallegos," I said.
"Third daughter of Hecate," Annabeth's voice agreed, appearing next to me.
Maria pumped her gun. "At your service."
Percy's POV
When the word "Titan" came out of Thalia's mouth, a bad feeling came over my stomach. The last time a Titan visited me, I got Pandora's pithos. Yes, a pithos. A Greek jar. According to Prometheus, the "box" was mortal nonsense. It'd always been a jar. Pandora's pithos had appeared at my weakest moments, tempting me to switch to the other side. Years back I'd given it to Hestia, goddess of the hearth, the last Olympian. She'd been keeping it safe ever since.
So you can see why I was surprised when I entered the clearing Thalia led me to and didn't find Prometheus. Instead it was a woman, with a braid long enough to make Rapunzel rip her heart out.
"Hello, Perseus." Her voice was soft, thoughtful, soothing.
I said something real smart, like, "You're not Prometheus."
The Titan let out a tinkling laugh. "No, I am not my nephew at all."
"Then who are you?"
"Percy," Thalia's voice reminded me she was still there. "This is Mnemosyne. The Titan of Memory."
"Indeed," Mnemosyne murmured.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
She looked at me with interest. "A warning," she said vaguely. "Three warnings, actually."
"Yes?" I said after a second. "From who?"
She waved her hand. A picnic table morphed up from the ground, godly food set out on its grass surface. Mnemosyne sat delicately. After exchanging a look, Thalia and I remained standing.
"First," she said finally, "this war is not over yet. Sometime in the immediate future, Anastasia Chaldean may die one way or another, at the hands of yourself, or her sisters, but she will almost be as much trouble dead as she is alive. I am the representation of memory. I know this concept well. It has happened again and again. A repetitive event. Hecate will not hesitate to destroy you all, and she will not be alone."
That happy speech made so much unwanted sense. Hecate did have minor gods on her side. Many of them weren't so excited about trying to overthrow the gods after the last prophecy, so her godly army was smaller, but strong all the same.
"Any advice?" Thalia asked.
Mnemosyne frowned. "It is not my place to say. You, my dear, should know their weaknesses well. It's in your blood."
Thalia didn't look pleased at the indirect mention to her father. Family was a tough subject for her.
"You said you had three warnings?" I prompted.
Her expression flickered for a second. "Secondly, the dead will continue to rise. The breach in Hades's security has grown over the time you have been distracted. The encounter you experienced with your former friends was only a taste of what will come to be. Hecate will release everything you fear and send them after you. You must send a team to close the breach, secure the Underworld once more. Until then your precious camp will be overrun with the living dead."
My stomach sank as she said that. I knew who would be a part of this "team".
She went on in another breath. "And finally, you very worst nightmare, the secret fear you have kept buried for years, will come to life. Hecate will blame you and only you for the death of her favorite daughter, no matter the killer. She will take everything you truly love and destroy them before your very eyes. She will be in great danger, in more than your luck has ever brought you yourself. Your child will suffer even worse. She will be a target. You must protect them both."
I felt strange. I couldn't place the feeling. So I said, "And who did you say this came from?"
She smiled. "I didn't, young one. But if you must know, this cam from certain concerned niece of mine. She sends her regards…" She flicked a slip of paper across the table.
The paper was more like parchment. Thick, yellowed, curling and ripping at the edges slightly. The script looked like it could've been an princess's handwriting, or maybe a goddess's. Only after I read it would I remember the sender was nothing less.
Be careful, my brave one. I am watching. –C
As we navigated our way out of the woods at Nico's call, I could tell Thalia was struggling not to talk. I knew she was probably clueless about the "niece" Mnemosyne had mentioned. She hadn't been around the time I landed on…on the island.
I'll admit it: getting a message from her after all these years was not only surprising, but brought up a rush of old, forgotten feelings I wanted nothing more than to stab with a fork and bury in the woods I was walking through.
Calypso (there, I said her name) was always my biggest what-if. In a lot of ways, I was glad I didn't stay on Ogygia. In others, I wondered what would've happened if I did. Nico would've been the child of the prophecy (which he wouldn't be happy about)? Annabeth would've been alone, hating my guts and hoping she could kill me? The world would've exploded? I didn't know. I didn't want to know.
"What did it say?" Thalia's question dragged me from my thoughts and back into reality.
I shot her a quick glare, but I understood why she had to ask. Our personalities plus raging cases of ADHD make it hard to resist urges. Especially when you wanna know something. Seriously, just watch Tony when he doesn't know something and he really wants to. First he starts twitching, then he does something crazy to find out whatever he wants to know, because according to him, asking is not an option.
"It said to be careful," is all I would say to Thalia about Calypso's message.
Pause. "Who was it from?"
I sighed, glancing at the ground. "Someone."
"You know I can't just live on one word of information."
"Thalia. Drop it."
"Percy, you know how bad you're gonna hurt if—"
I glared. "Look, if I tell you, will you shut up? And not tell Annabeth?"
The mention of her little "sister's" name had her giving me a suspicious look through narrowed eyes. "Okay," she said uneasily.
I debated with myself how much I should tell her. Everything? Thalia wasn't that reliable. If I told her only a little, she'd get pissed and get revenge. If I didn't tell her anything, she'd find some way to turn it around on me.
"Old flame," I said finally.
She sighed, rubbing her bracelet absently as the lights of camp came into view through the trees. "You're such an idiot, Percy."
"I've been hearing that," I agreed. "Why? What'd I do now?"
"You didn't make me swear on the Styx."
By the time I realized what she was talking about, she was already bounding fifteen feet ahead, heading straight for camp, where she knew I wouldn't catch her.
I sighed. I wouldn't bother. I was pretty sure Annabeth already knew about Calypso; she'd been strangely (or, that's how I saw it back then) mad at me for a long time after I'd come back.
Besides, Thalia knew if anyone was going to talk to Annabeth right now, it was going to be me.
I found her on the porch of Cabin Six, in bandages, dozing quietly with a finished Rubik's Cube in her hand. I laughed softly as I crouched next to her, tapping the cube. "I bet I can mess that up faster than you can finish it."
Her arms came around my neck so fast I toppled over backwards, my head clonking on the rail. "Ow," I muttered.
She laughed against my lips. "You're such a Seaweed Brain," she whispered.
"I know."
Big House POV
Maria Gallegos was not comfortable. She was too aware of the eyes trained on her. She took apart, then put back together, her shotgun several times merely to calm herself. The sharp clicks helped her strong instinct to run.
"Where have you been, Mashka?" Maria's hands paused momentarily on the tubular of her gun at the sound of her old Russian nickname.
"Mexico," she answered after a moment. "My re-birthplace." She eyed her sisters suspiciously. "Where have you been, Governess?"
Tatiana shifted with unease on the last word. "America," she said finally.
"What of you, Olya?" Maria knew the use of her sisters' long-lost nicknames was unnecessary, but she would rather make them squirm than have them calmer than she.
"Ukraine," Irina responded.
Maria continued with her reassembling. "And Anastasia?"
"France." Tatiana was the one to answer.
"She developed an exceptional American accent," Maria noted.
"Yes, well she was always good at deception, wasn't she?"
Maria didn't respond. After killing Anastasia, she and her sisters had all been brought to the four-story house's living room without hardly a word, except to tell them who they were waiting for.
Percy Jackson.
Maria couldn't recall a rumor of the name in Mexico. Except perhaps from the Spanish-speaking Cyclopes outside her home when she was a child. Son of the Sea God, they'd said. Troublemaker.
The door opening had Maria's hands tensed on her shotgun, whom she had named, simply, Sangre. Blood. She knew she probably should have called it Aima, in Greek, but she preferred Spanish over most other languages.
The leader of the camp was tall, lean, clearly an athlete. Eyes the color of the sea lingered on Maria suspiciously before he sat across from her. He was accompanied by two others; an equally tall girl in black, her blue eyes sparking with electricity, the other a boy Maria recognized as her helper on the battle field.
"Hola," Maria said to Jackson finally. "Que pa so?"
"I don't speak Spanish," the boy said blankly.
She almost wanted to laugh. "You should," she told him in Spanish, mainly to annoy him. She switched to English. "I prefer Espanol to Ingles, of course, but I'm flexible." She spared a wink.
"Thank you for killing Anastasia." The boy behind Jackson was almost invisible in the shadows. "She was really breathing down our necks."
"It is my job, cariño. It always has been." Which was the truth. Even in Maria's past life as the sweet, innocent Russian princess, she had tried to stop Anastasia's antics. Or cover her tracks. She cocked her head. "I have seen you before." She knew, of course, who he was, and she was sure he remembered her too. But she always did enjoy a game of perception; of course, he knew that well.
"Me?" the Jackson boy seemed confused, but the boy behind him responded.
"I've spent some…time in Mexico," he said. A twinkle appeared in his eyes. "Were you that feisty girl in Sonora?"
"I was," Maria answered. She noticed his acting hadn't changed since she last saw him.
"Did that Guatemalan guy ever get his sight back?"
A smile played on Maria's lips. "No. Peruvian marching powder seems to have a strange effect on retinas."
"So I've heard."
"Nico, what's she talking about?" The blue-eyed girl looked Maria up and down critically, her lip curling.
"Nothing, Thalia," Nico responded. "An old encounter is all."
Maria agreed silently. The kiss she'd given him had merely been a thank-you for smashing a chair over that drunk's head. The traveling (and other "thank-you's") they'd done together was a simple boost to each of their advantages in their search for answers.
Thalia didn't look pleased, but she said, "Will you be leaving anytime soon?"
Maria shared a glance with her sisters. "No," Tatiana said. The authority in her voice brought Maria an old glimpse of the Governess she once knew.
"Hecate will be here soon," Irina said. "We will stay to help you defeat her."
"No longer," Maria tacked on. "We have business to attend to outside of America."
"Look," Nico said. "We need a team to go to Los Angeles to help with a small breach. Which one of you knows death best?"
As the three sisters shared another look, they already knew the answer. Tatiana was too sweet-natured to know the pain of death. Irina had been brought back from death, but she did not understand it as well as Maria did.
"I do," Maria said. "I will go." Thalia frowned at her, shooting Nico a look, but the boy merely smiled.
"I thought you would."
Percy's POV
"It's gonna be a girl," I told Annabeth for the hundredth time.
"No, it's not. It'll be a boy," she said stubbornly.
"I don't care what the hell it is, as long as I'm godmother, I'm happy," Thalia interjected.
"Yo, same goes for me," Tony said, raising a finger. "Except I'm gonna be the kid's awesome uncle."
"I just want to watch your parents' reactions," Nico shrugged.
Annabeth stiffened at Nico's sentence. I knew she'd totally forgotten about that. I did, too, I just didn't expect her to. I mean, she's Annabeth for gods' sake. She remembered everything.
"Crap," she muttered.
"I know," I said in her ear. "Think she'll incinerate me?"
"Not as long as I have anything to do with it."
It was morning. Thalia, Nico, Tony, Annabeth, and me were standing around on the steps of the Aphrodite cabin, mainly to piss them off. Thalia and Nico thought it'd be a super funny parting gift to the Aphrodite kids if they woke up to find two "Goth" kids on their porch. The rest of us just wanted to watch.
First there'd been a scream, followed by more screams, followed by "Goth on the porch!" followed by a failed attempt to throw us out. Now we were just watching them squirm. I think even one of them was whimpering about how "the whole porch is tainted now."
"Hey, Percy," Nico whispered suddenly (but loud enough for everyone to hear). "Don't you have something you wanna ask Annabeth?"
"Huh? Oh yeah." I grinned. "Tony, box me." I flicked up my hand just in time to catch the little black velvet box my best friend tossed at me.
Thalia was smirking. Annabeth was looking amused. The Aphrodite kids were fighting for spots at the windows.
I couldn't stop grinning as I looked at Annabeth. Despite the confidence, my stomach was overflowing with butterflies. "So, Annabeth," I said.
"Yeah?" she smiled.
"I gots a proposition for ya."
"And what's that?"
The grin stayed strong, even when I sank down on one knee and flipped the box open. "Marry me."
The Aphrodite cabin exploded with squealing. "YES! SAY YES!" they screamed.
"Go on, Annie," Tony said. "Make him the unluckiest guy in the world." He winked. Nico knuckle-bumped him.
Annabeth kept her eyes on me, smiling, ignoring all the yelling. "Maybe I will," she said after the noise quieted down. "On a couple of conditions."
My knee was starting to hurt, but I didn't say anything. "Should I be scared?"
She pretended to think about it. "No," she admitted.
"Okay, shoot then."
"One, you are to love me forever."
"Got that part down," I said, flashing a grin at the sound of the Aphrodite cabin's "AWWWW!"
"Two, I get to design our house."
"Thought you'd say that."
"And three, I get to name junior Jackson."
I grinned again. "We'll see about that last part, but done." You're more than worth it, I thought.
Smiling, she slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand and put her hands around my neck. "You remember when I said I wasn't going to make things easy for you?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Good, because it's about to get a lot worse." When she kissed me, everyone around us broke into cheers. I couldn't get happier.
Aw, that was too much fun to write. Sigh. So, what's up with Maria and Nico? (Yes, I realize Nico's mother's name is also Maria. That's on purpose.) Does Thalia feel threatened, or is it just my misleading writing? It's up to Percy and Annabeth to protect camp until the dead stay dead; can they do it? Especially with Junior Jackson on the way? You guys should be excited; just you wait...