Thumbelina

Part Three: Bloom

If you can walk yourself to the front door, you can go home.

Turns out this was harder than Percy ever imagined. For one, he was pretty sure he was dying.

"Eh, the water got into your lungs," Echidna said in disgust as he hacked and coughed, water indeed rattling in his lungs as he bitterly thought, you could at least pretend to be sympathetic.

The sensation of water rattling around in his lungs was ten different kinds of terrifying. It made his chest feel impossibly heavy, like one of the gross toads were sitting on his chest. Sometimes, as he was coughing or even, most terrifying of all, when he was doing nothing at all, lying flat on the bed, it would threaten to drown him; that horrible liquid blocking his throat and filling his lungs as he gasped and flailed, trying desperately to get oxygen in somehow, someway. Standing up tended to do the trick, but the liquid would only slowly recede and the feeling of drowning wouldn't disappear for hours. Sometimes, he didn't dare lie back down, even though his body ached and he was cold and tired and bone weary.

"I want my mom," Percy would say to the dark and his own coughing answered him.

"I think I made a good choice," Echidna announced one night when she slithered in.

Percy, who was curled up on his side with his head tucked between his knees, merely grunted. He listened to the sound of the snake slither around, the scrap of her scales against the ground making almost the same sound as her low hiss. He supposed, after a moment of quiet contemplation blessedly not interrupted by any bouts of coughing, that this was a concerning statement and he should probably ask what the hell she meant.

"What?" He croaked, uncurling enough to suspiciously squint through the dark.

"I think you're strong enough to not die on me," Echidna announced.

That was . . . an oddly glowing endorsement coming from the opposite-of-motherly-Great-Mother.

"Why is that a good choice?" Percy asked, his stupid voice weak and raspy.

"Because you're not weak," Echidna said, sounding annoyed.

Percy's head throbbed dully and he buried it back between his knees.

"You're talking in circles," he whined, his voice muffled by the damp skin of his thighs.

"However stupid," Echidna muttered in annoyance.

"Echidna," he moaned, "I can't think and be miserable at the same time."

"I'm not entirely certain you can think and breathe at the same time," Echidna muttered under her breath. "Here, I brought food."

And that marked the end of the conversation, leaving Percy absolutely none the wiser, thank you so much Echidna.

At least, Percy mused as he rooted around to drag the sack of food closer, Echidna didn't expect him to eat flies. She brought him reasonable things, like berries that probably weren't poisonous because he hadn't died yet and various nuts. Not exactly a fun, varied diet but it was edible and it didn't have eyes or talk so Percy figured he couldn't complain.

His eyes were more adjusted to the darkness now that he'd been down here for . . . however long he'd been there (the lack of sunshine left him in a timeless sort of state—had it been days? Weeks? A long time, certainly). Regardless, he could see vague shape-ish things now. Echidna brought him matches whenever she slithered in, but sometimes they would go out and he would be plunged right back into the soulless void. He had to say, he wasn't a fan.

Right now, though, the match burned brightly in the corner, newly replaced by Echidna's latest visit. Percy munched on his nuts and berries, watching the flame's shadow dance on the wall. He grabbed the little pouch of water balanced on the side of his bed, sipping as he thought.

If he found the front door, would he strong enough to walk home?

That sounds like a later problem, he mused, swinging his feet out of bed. The first problem, the now problem, was 'where is the door'?

Percy braced himself, jaw stubbornly clenched, and pushed himself to his feet. His head still throbbed, a dull aching that steadily pounded through his skull. The exertion caused him to cough a little, swaying drunkenly as he wrapped his arms around himself. He blinked down at the ground as he gave little, pathetic coughs. He waited as they ran their course, standing perfectly still in the hopes that . . . he didn't know, the stillness might scare the coughs away? That didn't even make sense in his own mind.

Percy shook his head, regretting the motion as it made his vision spin.

"Alright, alright, just one foot in front of the other, it's not that hard," Percy muttered to himself, one arm still firmly wrapped around his diaphragm. The other hand he reached out, feeling along the wall as he shuffled forward.

One step.

Two steps.

See not so hard, he told himself, body trembling as he leaned heavily against the wall, gasping for breath.

As it turned out, one foot in front of the other kind of was rather hard. He found himself blinking in the doorway what felt like an eternity later, covered in sweat and trembling from head to foot. And coughing. Couldn't forget the coughing. He slumped against the wall, whining as he heaved and gasped. He started sliding down the wall, making sad little pathetic noises as his legs trembled but slowly folded in under the none-to-gentle prodding of gravity. He folded himself into an ungraceful heap on the floor, staring pensively into the darkness just beyond the entrance of his room.

What was out there? What did a snake's house look like? There was furniture in his room, things like he might find, albeit it much larger, in his own house. So would it look like a small version of his house? Or, Percy wondered as he peered down the hall, because he was obviously underground, would it be a series of tunnels and burrows and twists?

"Somebody got out of bed," Echidna's voice hissed. "I see you made it far."

Percy was oddly used to her popping out of nowhere by now so he didn't jump at her sudden voice. Or, maybe that was just the exhaustion.

"You're so mean," Percy huffed, puffing out his cheeks as he sulked. "You could at least offer me a hand."

Echidna's head appeared in the gloom, her tongue flickering in and out as dark eyes gleamed. "Still not the brightest thing are you? I was hoping it was the sickness addling your brain."

Percy scowled, "You are so mean, why do you have to be so—oh it's a figure of speech! I know you don't actually have hands!"

Percy's cheeks burned but he couldn't further defend himself as he began to cough, the rattling sound echoing down the hall. Echidna didn't reply.

"Fine, I guess I'll just—" his nice dramatic little speech was interrupted by rough, watery coughs "—j-just drag myself back to bed. Cold. Alone, possibly to n-never make it."

Echidna didn't seem impressed as he hacked some more.

"Can you do it with less complaining?" She asked irritably.

"No," Percy managed to gasp out between bouts of dying thanks Echidna. "You'll feel sorry when I die on your floor."

"I'll just eat you."

"Snakes don't eat humans," Percy scoffed as he forced himself to his knees. He reached out, his fingernails digging into the hard clay of the wall as he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet. He swayed dangerously as Echidna hissed from the darkness;

"Oh, is that what you are? Hm. I think you're lying. You're far too small to be a human."

"'M human," Percy huffed, his wobbly legs threatening to buckle underneath him as he stumbled back towards the bed.

"Or perhaps just delusional," the snake mused.

"Well, you're just mean," Percy childishly retorted, collapsing back onto his bed. He curled himself back into a ball, glaring at where Echidna's two gleaming eyes could be found.

"You have spirit, you were a very good choice," came Echidna's cryptic reply.

"What does that mean!" Percy shouted but the snake had disappeared once more.

Percy slept for most of the next day . . . or at least until his body ached less. He wasn't entirely sure on the timeline of anything anymore, but he mentally marked it down as 'one day' because it made him feel better. It was then that he tried walking again. Using the wall for support, he made his way back to the entrance of his room.

Feeling marginally less winded than the last time he attempted this, Percy stuck his hand out into the hallway, groping along the edge. Hm. Still felt like clay and dirt. He glanced behind him, at his mess of a bed and the him-sized furniture, before stepping into the hallway. He stood in the center of the passage, arms outstretched to either side of him. The hallway was as dark as his room, but the narrow passage and curved walls seemed more intimidating and menacing than his little room.

He would have to take the match, Percy knew, if he wanted to explore any further. His body was trembling though and he also knew if he tried to go any farther today he would collapse. Still, he took one more stepped forward, not quite ready to back yet.

"Hello?" He called experimentally.

He wasn't sure what he expected, for Echidna to make some snide comment or for the sound of his own voice to echo back and give him an estimate of the length of the hallway. Neither happened. Percy took another step forward and his knee buckled. With a grunt, he tumbled sideways, half crouching half standing as he tried to catch his breath. His harsh breathing filled the space, but otherwise, silence echoed around the strange little hall, quiet and pressing.

Recovery, Percy learned, was a long and unnecessarily painful road. Honestly, there was no need for his body to be so weak and his lungs so winded, come on now. It had to have been at least a couple weeks since he fell into the river, it was time for the sickness to leave and let the door hit it on the way out, thankyouverymuch. The sickness, however, didn't seem to share his sentiment and decided to hang around, lingering in his lungs, stealing his breath and seeping strength from his muscles. Percy stubbornly fought it though, he wasn't just going to lie in bed and accept this fate, oh no. His mom would be worried sick by now and the thought of Sally home alone, achingly lonely and worried, gave him the strength to push himself to his feet every morning. Or night. Or whenever the heck it was when he woke up.

His exploration of Echidna's house was slow going. It took him five tries before he made it far enough down the hallway that he couldn't see his doorway anymore. A dozen or so tries after that got him to the first branch in the tunnel. Three branches, to be exact. He had yet to traverse down any of them, mostly because his strength still wasn't that good. Also, he figured he needed a better plan than eeny, meeny, miney, mo for choosing which tunnel to start down. Besides, he needed to remember how to get back too. What was that story Sally used to read him? Something about a couple of kids getting lost in the woods and leaving something behind to find their way? Breadcrumbs maybe? He couldn't remember, but he didn't have any breadcrumbs so it was irrelevant.

What use would breadcrumbs be anyway? Percy wondered, sitting just outside the three-way split. Breadcrumbs would be useless. The wind could sweep them away or something could eat them? What kind of idiots did his mother read to him about? Maybe it was a 'how not to survive in the woods' book.

Still, not much help to him right now, Percy mused as he absently scratched his arm. The match he held tightly between his knees, its bright orange flame licking up the sides of the tunnel and casting his current dilemma in eerie shadow. As if it were taunting him choose but choose wisely.

Percy snorted to himself.

"Alright," he thought out loud, a bad habit he developed after who-only-knows-how-long down here with nobody but the ever cryptic and irritating Echidna for company. "So how do I do this? Should I look for air currents? Changes in temperature? Shout down the passages and see which one, what? Echoes better?"

They all sounded dubious and sketchy, even to his own ears.

"Well," Percy said, grabbing the match and securing hold it away from the ground as he forced himself to his feet. "I'm not going to get anywhere sitting here. Eeeny, meeny, miney, mo it is I guess."

He waved his hand around, humming the nursery rhyme under his breath before stopping halfway through the song, his finger pointing down the rightmost passage.

"Mo," he finished and promptly stepped down the path before he could think better of it.

The passage was just as dark as the first one, the same round shaped walls, and was only slightly damp. Percy could comfortably fit in the wide passage, just as he could before, his head a couple hand lengths from the top as he held the match aloof.

After a dozen or so steps he lost count and took to humming under his breath instead. He hadn't exactly made too many turns anyway, he could hardly get lost. Besides, Echidna would probably find him and drag him back to bed if he did.

Sally always liked to sing some slow, soft melody on rainy days. Percy couldn't remember the words, but he was humming the tune the best he could, making sounds up when he forgot how it went, when he realized the passage had changed. No much, but there were . . . there were openings on the wall. Percy froze in place, his humming sharply cutting off. More passageways?! Was his first panicked thought, but the panic vanished as he swung around, bringing the match up to the first opening.

It wasn't a new passageway, he realized as the light flickered across the wall, it was a room. Percy stepped forward, intrigued. He poked his head inside the room, match held high.

"Hello?" He called curiously.

Nobody answered him. The room looked rather like his, Percy noted with interest, stepping inside. It was a little larger and the furniture, so similar to his own, were more narrow. The bed had to be half the width of his yet three times as long. Percy tilted his head to the side, creeping up to the bed. He experimentally poked it and it gave under his fingers, soft but firm, intricately woven together pieces of grass and feathers and other such material.

Huh.

Percy rocked back on his heels, glancing around the room. Maybe he wasn't Echidna's only guest. He wandered back out into the hallway and craned his neck. Rows and rows of doorways lined the passageway. The next room Percy ducked into was as similar and dissimilar to his own as the first. It was relatively the same size, with a bed and little-ish furniture, yet the bed was curved and the table twice as big. Strangely enough, in this room, there was something hanging on the wall. Percy crept closer, only to freeze as he realized it was pelt of some sort and he quickly ducked out the way he came, figuring it was better if he didn't know.

"Are you all bedrooms?" Percy exclaimed as he popped his head into yet another room.

"I think you are," he snorted in disbelief at the fourth.

"What on earth does she need so many rooms for?" he wondered.

By the eighth room Percy had decided two things; one, the entire Styx-cursed hallway was filled with rooms and two, he didn't think this through.

"Ugh," he whined to himself as he lowered his trembling body to the floor.

"I just n-need—" achoo! "—a minute," he told the dying match as he coughed.

A couple rattling coughs later, he was back on his feet as promised and making his way back the way he came. Well . . . more or less. He leaned heavily against the wall, stopping frequently to take a couple gasping breaths or to try and hack up his entire lung. He made it back to the three-way fork in the road before he collapsed.

"A minute, just a minute," he wheezed against the dirt, trembling so violently his vision blurred.

The match fell from his fingers when he ungracefully faceplanted and now lay on its side a couple lengths from him. Through blurry eyes, Percy watched as the spark of light sizzled brightly before dying.

Great, just great, were Percy's last thoughts before passing out.

"So, did you make it to the front door?"

"G'way Echidna, I still can't talk and be miserable at the same time," Percy grumbled into the dirt when the snake woke him some indiscernible time later.

Echidna seemed unimpressed; Percy didn't lift his head to check. His stomach gurgled unhappily and Percy groaned, not wanting to move.

"You only get food if you're in your room," Echidna warned.

Percy figured this meant she wasn't all that upset he was exploring her house. She probably knew the whole time he'd been exploring anyway, he mused.

"Wha' if 'm not in m' room?" He slurred, faced still firmly pressed against the floor.

"Then you better learn to like dirt."

That was . . . fair, Percy supposed, groaning as he finally forced himself to roll over. He cracked an eye open and was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn't totally dark. Echidna held a fresh match in her tail, which was oddly considerate of the serpent.

"I'll get there in . . . eventually," Percy said with a wave of his hand. Then, making 'gimme hands' added, "I'll take the match."

Echidna handed it over without hesitation, her creepy slitted eyes watching him all the while.

"What's up with the like hundred different rooms?"

If Echidna was surprised by the question or bother by his snoopiness, her face didn't show it.

"My children's rooms," she said dismissively.

"Wait, you really are a mother?" Percy asked in disbelief but Echidna was apparently finished with their conversation because she turned away, slithering down the passage before he even finished speaking.

"Of course I am," she scoffed. "Honestly Percy, where do you think the name 'Great Mother' came from?"

"I—" didn't believe it, he finished mentally, the tattered remains of his sense of self-preservation whispering that it wouldn't turn out well for him if he finished that thought.

There were dozens of rooms down that hall, Percy mused that evening after he managed to haul himself back into his room. He curled up on the bed, munching on the nuts Echidna set aside for him as he thought. He didn't know much about snakes. Did they lay eggs? Did they eat their young? Did Echidna's children slither away from their 'great mother' the first chance they got? The latter at least made sense to Percy, who wouldn't blame them the slightest bit.

He hadn't seen anybody down the hall, though, or any real signs of life. Just a couple empty, however well kept, rooms. Perhaps Echidna was delusional and all her children were imaginary. Maybe that's why Percy was 'useful' because he was real.

Percy shuddered a little at the thought but pushed all conjecture from his mind. It didn't matter one way or another, he told himself. He just needed to get home.

He would try the left-most path next time, Percy decided. And bring food with me, he thought wryly, glancing at the little bag of nuts at his side.

And so the next day, or whenever it was that he woke up next, Percy gathered together the pitiful remains of his supper and, match held in one hand, headed down the left-most path.

The left-most path was darker and narrower than the one he set down the maybe-day before. His head brushed against the top of the path, scratching dirt off the ceiling which fluttering down into his eyes.

"Ugh," Percy whined, sneezing rather violently as the falling particles tickled his nose.

And, of course, his powerful sneeze caused even more dirt to fall which caused more coughing and if he weren't such a stubborn little boy (or so his mother like to affectionately say, eyes warm and voice kind) he'd turn right around and leave this stupid path be. But he was a stubborn little boy so he squared his shoulders and soldiered on.

"I—" achoo! "—really hate—" achoo! "this stupid place!"

He shouted the last part in frustration, one hand held up to his leaking nose and the other tightly wound around the match as he angrily stomped his feet.

"That's it, I—" he coughed when he saw it.

Up ahead, just barely in his line of sight, a glimmer of light.

Light!

"The door!" Percy cried to himself and suddenly he didn't hurt anymore.

His lungs weren't heavy, his throat didn't burn, his nose wasn't even running but boy oh boy was Percy running. He let out a delighted laugh as he booked it down the narrow hall, rejoicing in the dirt that fell in his eyes because it didn't matter he was going home, he was going home—

Percy came to an abrupt halt, the bag of nuts at his side slipping off his shoulder and clattering to the floor as he skidded, arms windmilling and almost dropping the match in surprise.

It wasn't the door. It wasn't an entrance.

He was still stuck in this labyrinth of roots and dirt, of darkness and confusion, away from the sunshine, away from his mom.

Percy sank to the floor, sickness rolling inside of him. The hand holding the match trembled, casting frantic shadows along the wall and reflecting off the dirty, but still beautifully golden feathers of the creature that Percy mistakenly thought was the sun.

To avoid dwelling on the pit that swelled in his gut, threatening to swallow him whole, Percy instead turned to survey his red herring.

It was a bird of some kind, small, only about twice Percy's meager height. It must've been halfway between an adult and a hatchling, a few downy feathers clung to its underbelly. It started at Percy's entrance, blinking its narrow, blue eyes at Percy.

"What's a bird doing down here?" Percy wondered aloud, realizing just how odd this encounter was.

There was a bird, here, in Echidna's tunnels. Didn't snakes eat birds? And didn't birds prefer to be in the open air not buried some odd leagues under the dirt?

The bird looked offended, ruffling his feathers as he huffed indignantly, "What's a little creature like you doing down here? You're not a snake. In fact, I don't even know what you are."

"I'm a boy!" Percy snapped angrily, pushing himself to his feet. "Why does everybody keep saying that!"

The bird snickered softly hiding its beak under one wing and Percy had enough. He was tired, his body ached, and this stupid, irritating bird wasn't the front door. There was nothing keeping him here. Head held high, Percy turned sharply around.

"Whatever, be a jerk," he grumbled, starting to leave.

"Wait!" the bird called, his voice echoing around the small space and it was the emotion that broke through the cry that gave Percy pause; panic, fear.

He turned back around. The bird tucked his head half under one ruffled wing, his eyes twitching and flickering around the enclosed space and . . . and even though he tried to hide it, he lost his bravo in that moment. Birds weren't supposed to be underground, they weren't meant to be in the dark, alone and ruffled in a (literal) snake's den.

"What's wrong with your wing?" Percy asked, noticing for the first time how awkwardly one of the bird's wings lay.

It was curled into the bird's body, the splendor of the golden feathers muffled by the dirt and darkness, but it didn't fold in correctly along the bird's side. Like it was broken.

The bird puffed out its chest, eyes flickering around the space once more. Looking for an exit, the dawning realization hit Percy as the bird hauntingly replied, "Nothing's wrong with my wing."

"Right," Percy said doubtfully, "I'm sure it's supposed to bend that way. Here, let me look."

The bird held itself stiffly as Percy walked around its side. He set his bag aside and gently used it to prop up the match before scrambling up to the bird's wing. It was pretty, even in the gloom of the tunnel and beneath a coat of dirt and, ugh, was that blood?

"It's broken," Percy murmured.

"Of course it's broken," the bird crossly grumbled. "The bone's not supposed to stick out you know."

"Quit being a jerk," Percy said dismissively, patting the bird on the head.

"Hey!"

"I think, if I run back to get supplies, I could you know," Percy made a motion with his hands, "move the bone back into place so it can heal properly."

The bird stiffened. "No."

"Or you could let it heal wrong and never fly again," Percy casually agreed.

The bird was silent for a moment.

"You think you can fix it?"

"Well," Percy scratched his head, taking a step back. "I don't really know. It's not like I have wings. But ah, it needs to be set right? And between you and me, and looking at your non-broken wing, we can rig something up that'll work."

"Or I'll never fly again . . . " the bird looked heartbroken, his young, golden face falling.

"We'll fix it," Percy said firmly. "Stay here I'll be back."

"Oh yes, because I planned on taking a stroll!" The bird shouted after him.

The trip back to his room was long and arduous, but Percy ignored his sneezing and aching chest. He fell to his knees in his bedroom, poking and prodding around to find anything that could be useful. He stuffed it all into his food bag the best he could (some stuff stuck out) before racing back.

Well.

Okay, before making his slow, arduous way back because he still had to stop and cough, or sneeze, or just catch his breath.

The point was he eventually made it back.

"Okay this is what I found," Percy said, turning his bag upside down and giving it a good shake.

"Is that . . . is that food?" The bird asked, his voice slightly strangled.

"Oh yeah, roots and berries and whatever," Percy said, watching as a plump berry rolled around on the floor. "But I found—" he frowned "—wait, hey, when's the last time you ate?"

"It's been a while," the bird rasped, eyes keenly fixed on the berry.

"Right, the whole, trapped underground thing," Percy reminded himself, bending over to scope up a handful of runaway berries. "Here."

He set the handful before the bird before lurching back to rock on his heels as he waited. The bird hesitated, which was impressive. If Percy'd been stuck in a cave with no access to food, he'd make a spectacle of himself scarfing the berries down. Eventually, the bird did bow his head to peck at the food, swallowing them up so fast he made little choking noises and Percy was concerned for a moment he might have to intervene. But the bird swallowed the berries down and no drastic action was needed. Which was good. Percy didn't know what drastic action he might have taken, besides flaying around uselessly.

"Good?" Percy asked.

The bird pecked a little at the dirt, nosing around for more berries and looking quite sad to find none.

"Sorry, that's all I had," Percy said, scratching the back of his head.

"That's okay, thank you," the bird earnestly replied, turning bright blue eyes to the little boy. He looked so grateful that Percy awkwardly looked away.

"Riiight. Well. I'm Percy, by the way," Percy introduced, figuring that was a thing he ought to do.

"Jason, at your service," the bird regally replied, bowing his head.

"That's like the most normal name I've heard this entire trip," Percy said, pleased as he started gathering their make-shift medical materials.

"Good?" The bird sounded confused.

"Yeah, good," Percy confirmed. "Now, how do we do this Jason?"

Between the two of them, they managed to work up a wiry apparatus around the golden, broken wing. Jason stoically took every accidental bump and blunder and only kind of make a cry like a dying banshee when Percy moved the bones back into place.

"Sorry," Percy winced, stumbling back and falling right to the floor in an undignified heap. He rightened himself so he sat cross-legged before the bird. "Better?"

Jason flexed his body, wiggling around the best he could in the cramped space.

"Yes," he said, sounding surprised.

"Good, great," Percy muttered, letting himself fall back so he could splay out on the ground.

"Go team," he added with a little wave of his hand, someone nullified by the coughing the threatened to overwhelm him.

"You're sick," the bird astutely noticed.

"I'm dying," Percy dramatically bemoaned. His stomach gave a little growl and he winced to himself, remembering that Jason ate his supper. Well, the bird did need it more than he did.

"You're fine." Jason was unsympathetic. Maybe Percy shouldn't have given him the berries. "But maybe you should sleep."

"That sounds like a good idea," Percy agreed but made no effort to move.

"What are you even doing down here?" Jason asked and Percy squirmed around enough so he could see the bird's confused face.

"I was kidnapped, again!" Percy exclaimed. "Animals keep kidnapping me! I was just minding my own business at home, I accidently fell out of the window again, when this big ugly toad decided to kidnap me! And she wanted me to marry one of her children, can you believe that? But a butterfly saved me, only to get caught in a spider's web—"

"You are quite small—"

"Shut up Jason, I'm perfect sized."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Do you want me to leave?" Percy demanded loudly, throwing his hands into the air.

He glared at Jason, who ducked his beak down into his good wing to muffle his snickering.

"No, no, please tell me what happened with the spider."

"Jerk," Percy scoffed but settled back down to finish his tale. "The spider. Right. Well, the spider was crazier than the frogs and then she decided to marry me, which is just stupid because I'm obviously not a frog or a spider. But she got mad at me when I cut a fly loose so she decided to eat me. I escaped, only to fall into this giant river—"

"It was probably only giant to you—"

"Jason, I swear, I will come over there and wrapped your beak shut."

"The river?"

"I fell into the river and woke up here."

Percy folded his arms over his stomach. Jason's head cocked to the side, watching him curiously. Percy rose an eyebrow.

"And then what?" Jason prodded.

"And then I found you, duh."

"That can't be the end of it," Jason protested.

"Kinda is."

"But? I don't understand, it doesn't make any sense."

"None whatsoever," Percy gravely agreed. "But that's my life for you."

"There's got to be more to it than that!" Jason objected.

"I got sick?" Percy put forth with a shrug, scratching his nose.

"But—but," Jason tweeted, ruffling his feathers. "Why is the snake keeping you here?"

"She's crazier than even the spider," Percy grumbled, crossing his arms. "She keeps saying I'll be useful but never elaborates."

Jason was silent.

"Do snakes . . ." he hesitated, then whispered urgently, "eat boys?"

"No," Percy scoffed, rolling his eyes. Honestly what silly bird.

"Are you sure?" Jason pressed anxiously. "Maybe she's fattening you up."

"I've been here a while and I've only gotten thinner," Percy mused. "Besides, I'm a pain. Too annoying to be kept around, she'd already have eaten me."

Jason mulled this over. "Then what does she want?"

"No idea."

They sat in silence for a while then, Percy half dozing.

"It will take a couple suns for my wings to heal."

"M'kay," Percy said sleepily, nodding. "Can you fly me home when you're all better? Promise I'll keep sharing my food with you."

"Thank you," Jason said, sounding surprised. "That's . . . thanks, Percy. I'd be honored to fly you home."

"No problem." Percy's nose wrinkled. "Do you know a way out of here, though? 'Cause I don't."

"I burrowed into the ground to keep warm," Jason explained, "and accidently burrowed right into this den."

"So we can just go up?" Percy asked eagerly, the excitement enough to rouse him upright.

"When it's warm enough," Jason warned. "It's much too cold now."

Percy's face must have betrayed his horror because Jason looked uncomfortable.

"Oh Mom'll be sick from worry," Percy moaned, burying his face in his hands.

"You still live in the nest?"

"Boys are different than birds," Percy muttered into his dirty hands. "We stay with our moms forever."

"Oh." Pause. "I'm sorry. I'm sure she'll be okay until you get back."

"Yeah, yeah," Percy sighed, rubbing his temple. He lifted his head to look around the tunnel. The match barely flickered with life, the space nearly dark.

"I better head back," Percy said sadly. "Before Echidna becomes suspicious and comes looking for me. Wouldn't want her to find you."

"Are you sure?" Jason asked, anxious once more, his good wing flapping nervously. "Maybe you should stay here."

"Nah, I need to go back," Percy dismissed, brushing his pants off as he came to his feet. "The crazy snake will probably come looking for me. Can't have her finding you. Besides, where else would I get food?"

"She won't eat you?"

"Snakes don't eat boys," Percy said confidently. "I probably won't be able to come back until tomorrow, will you be okay?"

"I've been down here by myself until now, I think I'll be okay for one night," the bird dryly replied.

"Right . . . I'll bring more food tomorrow."

And with that, Percy made his way back to his room, considerably happier.

Thus passed Percy's days in the dark burrows of Echidna's den. His breath came back with time, as did his strength. The hall of rooms remained empty but Echidna grew more impatient every day (or, however one tells time under the earth). As time stretched on, as it's wont to do, she visited the little boy less and less. She would leave him food for a couple days before disappearing to who only knows where, and Percy wouldn't see her for some time. He couldn't say he particularly minded.

Besides, he had Jason for company.

"Echidna keeps saying her kids are coming home," Percy told Jason one day as they munched on their dinner. "But snakes don't come back to their moms do they?"

"I don't know," Jason admitted, sounding disturbed. He ruffled his feathers. "I don't want to be here if they do, though—and I don't want you here either. I still don't know what that crazy snake wants with you."

"Your wing's all healed up," Percy pointed out helpfully. "We just have to wait for spring."

"It should be here soon," Jason said, as though birds knew this kind of things. Which. They might. Percy didn't know much about birds.

"I'll leave these here," Percy said, pushing the last few berries towards the bird. "Echidna will probably check on me today, she hasn't in a while. I should get back. I'll see you later okay?"

"Okay, don't do anything stupid."

"You wound me," Percy laughed, rolling his eyes. "See you later Jace."

He took his time back to his room, his feet well acquainted with the way by now.

"Where have you been?"

"Good—" morning? night? "—day to you too Echidna," Percy cheerfully greeted.

The snake hissed in irritation. Then she paused, forked tongue flickering out.

"You smell . . . strange."

"I was bouncing on the bed, feathers went everywhere," Percy said with a straight face.

Echidna let it go, uninterested. "The time has come," she began ominously, "my children are returning. Get cleaned up."

"Wait, they're actually coming?" Percy asked, not quite believing it.

"Yes," Echidna hissed, eyes narrowing. "Wash up and put clean clothes on. Go, now. I've set an outfit out, use that one."

"Okay, okay," Percy complained as the snake pushed her head against his back, propelling him forward.

He stumbled inside his room, looking over his shoulder in confusion. Echidna drew herself up, her long body half off the ground, effectively blocking the doorway. Percy sighed, then resigned himself to following the deranged snake's instructions. He washed his face, then his arms and neck at the snake's insistence. The clothes Echidna laid out were fine, silky to the touch. Percy's eyebrows rose in surprise as he picked them up.

"There, very pretty," Echidna praised when he was finished.

"I'm not pretty," Percy muttered scornfully under his breath. He opened his mouth to complain more, loudly this time, when suddenly the ground shook.

"Ah, they're here!" Echidna cried in excitement.

"Wait, they are?" Percy repeated in alarm.

He could hear a low murmur of voices, growing louder every second. Percy's eyes widened in horror. Her children were real and they were actually coming. The crazy snake wasn't so crazy after all.

Jason.

"Come, come," Echidna demanded, slithering towards the sound.

Percy stood frozen in his spot. If they were snakes, and lots of them, then they were sure to find Jason. Snakes ate birds. Percy couldn't let them find Jason. Before Echidna could turn around, Percy burst into a sprint, rushing passed the startled snake.

"Jason! Jason!" Percy cried, grasping for breath as he ran. "They're here! Her children, they're real and they're here. You—you need to go. Go!"

The bird looked ruffled, rousing himself from sleep as Percy burst into his little hideaway.

"What—?"

"We need to go!" Percy shouted, gasping. "Snakes! Her children!"

Jason's eyes widened.

"Oh God," he said, snapping into action.

He uncurled his golden wings and began to beat on the roof of the passage, at the weakened spot he burrowed through all those weeks ago.

"Hurry, hurry!" Percy urged, covering his head as dirt came raining down.

Jason pecked furiously, dirt falling everywhere.

"Why you little brat, running away like that you get back here—"

Percy whirled in horror as Echidna slithered into the space. The snake froze, her beady eyes locking onto Jason in shock. Then she lurched forward.

"No!" Percy cried, throwing himself between the enraged snake and his friend.

"Go!" Percy shouted back to Jason as Echidna's tale wrapped around him. "Jason go!"

The serpent coiled around Percy, tight but not suffocating as the little boy struggled. He could just see the golden feathers of his friend . . . and the brilliant light of the sun breaking through the hole in the burrow. Jason had reached the surface. The bird himself flapped uncertainly in the freshly exposed air before his face morphed into determination—and he dove forward.

"Jason—" Percy weakly objected as Echidna gave a threatening hiss, snapping forward with extended jaws.

Percy's blood pounded in his ears as the snake's teeth caught Jason skin, bright red beading and rolling down sleek feathers.

"Your wing, Jason—" Percy cried in alarm, realizing Echidna grazed his newly healed wing.

The passage was too narrow for Jason to spread his wings and he hobbled awkwardly, ducking as Echidna struck again.

"Jason you're too big for the tunnel, just go!" Percy called, squirming desperately in Echidna's grip. "You can't—Jason!"

Echidna caught him again her teeth sinking into his body this time.

"No, let him go!" Percy shouted, kicking out at his captor.

It did him no good so, desperate, seeing the pain in Jason's eyes, Percy twisted around to sink his own teeth into the serpent. Echidna gasped in surprise her jaws unhinging enough to let Jason break free. Jason took advantage of Echidna's surprise to wiggle his way through the hole in the ceiling. He flapped his great wings, casting golden rays onto the struggling pair below.

"Go!" Percy repeated, which was all he got out before Echidna's tail wrapped firmly around his mouth and she began to drag him away from the opening.

"Percy!" Jason cried.

Percy vainly struggled but Echidna dragged him back into the dark. Go, go, go, Percy silently bid his friend.

"Ack! I cannot believe you were keeping a pet bird," Echidna muttered in disgust. "And don't you dare bite me again little one or I shall swallow you whole. Look, you're gone and ruined your clothes. I swear. Stop squirming." The reprimand came severely. "Or I shall break your arms."

Broken arms would be detrimental to escape so Percy forced himself to fall slack, letting Echidna drag him along.

"My children," Echidna hissed as they slithered along. "My darling, darling children, I can hear them."

Percy could too, even with the snake's tail half-obscuring his ears. The noise shook the very tunnel, dirt falling down onto the pair. Percy resisted the urge to squirm. Just how many kids did Echidna have?

Echidna dragged him into a wide, open room. Without being told, Percy knew it was the center of Echidna's lair. Six or seven different tunnels opened into it and the room itself was large and circular. Echidna dragged him into the center of the room, where the ground elevated on a little hump. The thundering of noise grew louder and louder until Percy's teeth shook with the force of it.

Then they came, pouring into the room like a flood breaking forth a dam.

Oh dam! They weren't snakes.

Percy could only stare as they congregated around their mother, who proudly purred with contentment. But . . . but? They weren't snakes.

They . . . well. Percy didn't know what exactly they were. No two looked alike but each was as hideous as the last. One of them almost looked like a snake, only it had like twelve heads were only one should be. Another had a strange cat for a head, only the cat had a ring of fur around it. Behind the head was a hooved, shaggy center that eventually ended in a snake's tail. Things only got weirder from there. Percy turned gaping eyes on Echidna, who couldn't look prouder.

"My children!" Echidna addressed and the room fell silent. "I hope this year has found you well. Mother has missed you dearly. Before we feast and partake in revelry, let us begin with the annual marital ceremony!"

Annual marital ceremony? Percy though in confusion. What the heck did that mean?

"Those who are unmarried step forth."

The creatures shuffled around, reordering themselves to their mother's command. Percy wrinkled his nose, an unsettled and gross idea growing in his mind. Oh no, she wasn't going to marry her kids off to one another, was she?!

Echidna thrust him forward, finally releasing him. Percy stumbled a little, managing to catch himself before he crashed into the twelve-headed creature.

"This calls itself Percy. It's hard to teach, a little stupid, but very, very pretty. Who wants to marry it?"

Wait, what? Oh no. That was worse, why couldn't they be incestual crazy beasts?

"Marriage?" Percy sputtered. "What! No! I don't want to get married! I'm thirteen—I just want to go home!"

His cries were lost. Echidna's demon children talked over themselves, hundreds of horrid eyes all fixed on him.

"Step up, don't be shy," Echidna called.

The twelve-headed one stepped forward and Percy thought that was it. This was the end, bye-bye, no more Percy—when the cat headed one snarled and contested. Percy barely had the time to step back before the fight broke out. In his hurry, he fell flat on his back, scuttling backwards like a crab.

"Now, now Chimera, Hydra stepped forward first," Echidna said fondly.

Nobody seemed to heed her words. A third child—Percy didn't even know how to describe this one—joined the fray. Echidna slithered forward, trying to speak over all the shouting. Percy took advantage of the chaos—he was not going to marry anybody. He raced towards the tunnel all of the children came through, pumping his legs as hard as he could and shoving his way clear. He was maybe a good three strides down the tunnel when Echidna noticed.

"Stop it! Fetch Percy!"

Uh no, Percy thought as he ran faster. The tunnel wasn't very long; he could see light up ahead. A moment later, he burst forth from Echidna's laid . . . and into the light. The sight took his breath away. It was spring, which meant Jason would be okay, but more pressingly to the kidnapped little child was the warmth of the sun, the brightness of the sky, the freshness of the air—

"There it is!"

Which was promptly ruined as Echidna's monster children spilled forth from the bowels of the earth. Percy decided to appreciate nature some other time.

"Leave me alone!" He cried, rushing forward once more.

It felt depressingly futile. He was so small and the monsters so fierce but he had to try. He needed to get home to his mom, maybe he could – gold. There was a flash of beautiful, blinding gold then Percy's feet were off the ground.

"Ah! Let me go!" Percy shouted, kicking the air as his foe lifted him higher.

"It's me, Percy, stop squirming."

Percy froze, craning his neck up. "Jason?"

Sure enough, the talons that gripped him tight belonged to none other than his little bird friend. Jason held Percy fast as they flew higher and higher, pumping his great wings in powerful arches through the crystal spring air. Percy laughed in delight, looking down at the growing dark mass that was Echidna's children. The Great Mother herself was at the center, holding her thin, evil body off the ground, forked tongue flickering in displeasure as she watched him fly away to freedom.

"Bye Echidna!" He called jovially, grinning broadly. "Can't say the stay was a pleasure, but thanks for saving my life! I hope to never, ever see you again!"

And then the little boy laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, long after Jason gently landed on a tall, green tree. When Percy finally calmed, his laughter breaking into smiles and pleased humming, Jason was grooming his wings and patiently waiting.

"Thanks, Jason," Percy said, reaching out to nudge the bird with his toes.

"That's what friends do," Jason evenly replied. "Besides, you've saved me more times that I can count."

"Hm, you're right," Percy mused, "so really, you still owe me."

Jason nipped Percy's shoulder. It didn't hurt but Percy pretended it did, complaining and shoving the golden nuisance away.

"Jerk," Percy scoffed but he was grinning.

He could go home now, he could finally go home. He opened his mouth to giddily vocalize his excitement when Jason gave a soft gasp.

"Percy, the flowers—look!"

Percy looked.

There were great pink blossoms all over the tree and, as they watched, their gentle petals unfurrowed to reveal little Percy-sized people. As the pair watched in surprise, little people climbed out of their nesting places, calling to each other in lifting tones and laughing. They, why, they looked just like Percy! Well. Almost just like Percy. Each of the tiny persons fluttering about on the tree had a pair of fine wings on their backs, not unlike Psyche's. The flower closest to them opened and a little Percy-sized, Percy-aged girl climbed out. Her face was tan and serene, golden curls framing an intelligent face where wise gray eyes could be found. Jason gasped again.

"Percy!" He hissed. "Percy look! Look how pretty she is! She's just like you."

"Yeah" Percy agreed. "Except for the wings you know." He paused, scratching his wingless shoulder. "Can you take me home now?"

"You should go talk to her."

"Why? Is she going to take me home faster than you?"

If birds could frown, Jason would be frowning.

"But she's like you."

"Psh, please," Percy scoffed. "I'm one of a kind. Now come on bird brain, take me home. My mom's been waiting long enough."

Jason sighed, as though Percy were ridiculous or pained him or something. But his friend obliged (he was an honorable bird you know, and he had promised to take the little strange child home). Jason leaned down so Percy could climb abroad, rather like a normal sized child on a horse.

"Are you sure—?"

"Take me home Jason," Percy said, laughing. "It's time to go home."

Jason argued no more. He spread his great wings and took to the sky. Percy let out a whoop of joy, throwing his head back—but did not look back—as they soared towards the golden horizon, finally heading home.

A/n This may have been an even longer wait than the one at the end of the Snow Queen for which I'm not sorry. NaNo happened, then finals, then Christmas, then some personal stuff and writing just wasn't a priority. But I saved it and here we are. I took a leaf out of Riordan's book and didn't include the reunion (yes, I'm still bitter). I also fixed Anderon's ending because having Thumbelina refuse to marry anyone until the last like paragraph when she marries this fairy dude she just met was lame.

It was good to return to this collection. There's something really therapeutic about writing fairytales. Stayed tuned for the next fairytale, which hopefully will come out soon and won't have a giant gap between chapters. No promises but I'll do what I can. Love you all and thank you for sticking around. Be safe, yeah?

Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed ~*