Percy didn't know what had hit him. He couldn't even begin to describe what had happened to him, much less what was going on in his life at that moment. He'd messed up; that much was certain. It was his fault that the world was so screwed up, and nobody could take that blame but him. He couldn't defeat Kronos, and in his failure to do that, he single-handedly set up the entirety of Camp Half-Blood and the mortal world as he knew it for utter annihilation. He deserved to be locked in an arena packed with half-bloods: every last one of them had the right to tear a piece of his hide out. But the worst...the worst by far was Annabeth. In everything, he'd hoped that at least Annabeth had gotten away, that maybe she could make a life for herself hidden from the eyes of Kronos. To stare across the field and see Annabeth in the pale shirt and black pants of the arena captives meant that he'd ultimately failed, and Annabeth had to suffer for what he did. He had made it his goal that he'd fight once again, that he would fight to save Annabeth and make sure that she got free of the Titans.
In order to do that, first he had to get up. Percy's limbs felt like rubber, they were so heavy. The last thing he knew, he had been charging at some guy who'd been staring down at him, seemingly watching as Percy took on the bloodlust alone. Percy had just barely managed to hold onto the celestial bronze sword he'd taken up fighting with in place of Riptide. Even now, the sword was too heavy for him, and it kept him unbalanced when he fought, even moreso now that he had very little strength to do anything but moan in pain. He willed his fingers to loose the deathgrip they held on that weapon and he managed to bounce the hilt of the blade out of his hand. He began to roll onto his side, trying to press himself into a sitting position when he heard Annabeth call his name.
"Percy! Percy what happened?!" Annabeth hobbled as best she could towards Percy and fell to her knees in front of him, partially in relief that he was alive, partially due to the pain slowly devouring her thigh.
Percy began to suck in deep, cool breaths in order to try and soothe his burning lungs. "I-I don't know," he replied shakily. "I feel like I ran into a brick wall. It sucked all the energy I had left from me." He looked towards where he bounced off the magic wall and saw a line burned into the ground where he and the other boy had been ready to clash. Beyond the line he could see the other boy just rolling over before bracing himself on his hands and knees.
"Hey!" Percy called out to him, trying to get his attention. "Hey, who are you?"
The boy said nothing, just began to crawl before, with a loud groan, standing to both feet and walking towards a lump at the foot of the hill. "Lyca!" he called out to the lump which, on closer inspection, was a girl curled up at the bottom of the hill. "Lyca are you okay? What's wrong?"
Percy forced himself to his feet, grabbing the hilt of his sword and staggering to the boy, the tip of the blade carving haphazard designs in the ground as Percy dragged it behind him. Percy couldn't get enough breath to walk and call out to the blond-haired demigod, so he staggered his way to the boy and the girl he rushed to. "Who are you?" Percy forced out once he stopped at the line freshly dug by the barrier.
The blond boy finally seemed to hear Percy because he turned to look at him, trying to position himself over the fallen girl's body. "Get back or I swear I'll kill you!" the boy snarled at him.
Percy managed to pick his blade up and place it in between him and the snarling demigod in front of him. "Hey cool down! I wasn't going to do anything," Percy shot back.
"Whatever," the blond snorted. "You were going to skewer me!"
"Well you didn't look all peaceful standing at the top of the hill brandishing that gold sword!" Percy glared hard at the half-blood in front of him, shifting his way in between Annabeth and the crazed demigod to try and protect her if the demigod went nuts. He was about to speak when he heard his name being called. He chanced a glance back at Annabeth, who was on her knees wincing in pain. "Did you call me?" he asked her. The daughter of Athena shook her head no, and with a wide look of surprise etched on her face, she pointed behind him.
Percy turned again, expecting to find the half-blood poised to strike, but instead saw the brown-haired girl that had fallen down the hill, standing upright, looking past her companion and straight at him. "Percy Jackson," she spoke calmly in a voice that sounded both familiar and strange all at the same time, as if he were listening to it in a dream.
Percy pointed his blade at the girl instead of the blond half-blood. "How do you know me?" he asked warily.
The girl opened her eyes, showing perfect pupiless orbs that bored straight into Percy's sea-green eyes. "I kept you when were lost. I saved you when you were at the gates of death. I stayed behind and watched you leave so that you could save the world."
Percy's jaw dropped immediately. He couldn't believe he'd ever forget that voice. The one he thought of only once every so often. In the eye's mind he recrafted the image he'd never forgotten, caramel hair braided over her right shoulder, almond shaped eyes set in a heart-shaped face. A smile that brought him utter peace. It couldn't make him forget about Annabeth though, not even for a second, even as she stumbled to her feet beside him.
"Percy," Annabeth started shakily. "Who is this?"
Percy gulped before answering the question. "It's the goddess stranded on Ogygia. She's a daughter of Atlas. It's the Titaness, Calypso."
"Percy, how do you know Calypso?" Annabeth asked him, a look of bewilderment on his face.
"Now is not the time for questions daughter of wisdom," Calypso said kindly. "Now is the time for direction. You believe that hope is lost, young demigods. But hope has not been set free from Pandora's pithos. You have hope. You can free yourselves from this place. It is your destiny if you hope to right every wrong and dethrone Kronos, but you have to do it together." She gestured at all of the half-bloods present, from Percy to Annabeth and the blond boy and finally to herself. "This girl will also be vital in helping you. You must work soon. In one day a force will come to strike against this place, and you must be ready for it."
"How do you know all this?" Annabeth asked her.
"And how do we know we can trust you?" the blond boy added. "You're a Titaness after all."
The goddess shook her head slowly. "I cannot explain, for I have no time left. The Titans watch and I am not as powerful as my father's brothers. I cannot hide our conversation much longer." She slowly closed her eyes, as if preparing to spirit herself away. "But know this Percy Jackson. Do not despair. All is not lost, and you are not to blame." The Titaness blinked once, blinked twice, and the third blink showed Percy amber eyes instead of blank ones and the girl collapsed, no longer possessed by Calypso.
"Keep the cohorts running drills while I am gone, got that?" Reyna spoke without looking back at the two centurion following behind her. She roughly pulled at her dark, bare travel clothing. She was used to wearing her own comfortable clothes, the pruple robes of praetor. But that wouldn't help her now, not where she was going. "Keep Apollo's kids drilling on their shots, and make sure that Vulcan's children take whatever scraps of Imperial Gold we have left, and melt it down and remold it into something useful. We don't have much to use. Let the first two cohorts spar in small groups and then drill the others on marches or something..."
"Praetor," the centurion on the right called to her. She spun on her heel mid-step and stared at him. He blinked his uneven eyes at her and licked his blood red lips. "We've got this," he said as calmly as possible. "We know what to do. Just go and find Jason. Make sure he's alive and bring him back."
Reyna's expression softened slightly. She placed her bandaged-wrapped hands on both centurions' shoulders and gripped them lightly. "I know Dakota. I trust you and Gwendolyn to do what needs to be done for the Twelfth Legion to regain its glory."
"Be safe, Reyna," Gwendolyn said softly. She glared behind the praetor of Rome at a pale boy kneeling beside a chariot. "We don't trust that son of Hades with you," she admitted with a sneer. "Are you sure that you'll be fine alone?"
"Of course I'll be fine. But I need you to try and stay away from the Greeks as much as possible. The last thing we need is a big fight on our hands when we return." Or worse, she thought to herself, before we come back. With that disturbing thought and not another word, she shook their shoulders lightly but firmly, striding past them towards Nico, who was harnessing the chariot that would take them to break Jason out of the Arena. She pulled at her clothing some more, feeling just a little too exposed when she stood next to the chariot, looking over the ride the son of Hades decided that they would use The chariot was large to say the least; it didn't seem built for a human, much less a child like him. Then she blanched; there really weren't children like him, from what she'd known. He seemed so glum all of the time, so down-to-earth and grown, despite knowing that she was several years older than him. She'd never known Pluto to frequent among the living, preferring his realm of precious stone to the land of the living. But then again, as Nico never stopped reminding her, his father wasn't exactly Pluto, but the Greek god Hades, Lord of the Underworld and all that resided within.
Reyna shook herself, running her hand along the chariot, noting that it felt like it had been carved completely from black stone. She'd seen many a chariot, and yet never one that had been built completely from stone. Her fingers played from black to shiny gold, realizing that the jewel was as much a singular part of the stone as her own hair was to her body. "It's obsidian and gold," Nico said suddenly, to Reyna's surprise.
When she looked at him, her dark eyes searching his pale face, she noticed that he had never turned from his work. "It's elegantly done," she replied softly. "How was this possible?" she asked him.
Nico almost visibly flinched under her gaze and the question she posed him; but in a second he was back to normal, completely focused on the preparations. "It's my father's chariot," he replied after a moment. She merely watched him in silence as he finished up on the chariot. When she decided that it was too awkward to keep watching the boy in front of her, she looked for the horses that would be carting the two of them off to Jason.
"Why can't I just ride Scipio?" she asked Nico.
Nico sighed, as if he was tired of answering the same question from a little girl. "Scipio is only going to be able to carry you and another person. We're breaking at least two people out, maybe more depending on if either Jason or Percy found allies in the Arena. Then, Scipio won't be fast enough. We're going to use shadow-travel to get there and back. It shouldn't take us too long and I should be able to travel us there and back safely. Then, Thalia is coming along with us on the return trip. She Iris-Messaged me and said that she'd meet us there and she wouldn't miss this for the world." Nico gave a faint smile at the thought before it faded off his pale face. He rose off his haunches, dusting his black pants off and tying his dark sword to his side. He picked up two long cloaks and handed one to Reyna before draping the other around his lanky form.
"Ladies first," he told Reyna, gesturing to the chariot. She glared at him, not entirely trusting of him, but still knowing that, one way or another, this boy was going to lead her to Jason. She placed a hand on the edge of the chariot and began to step in when she heard a voice behind her.
"Wait, Nico!" She spun around to see who was talking to the Greek when she realized that she was looking through a girl that looked about his age dressed in the garments of the Hunters that came through every so often to make council with Nico. Her hair fell long and straight down her head and when the ghost turned to face Reyna, she noticed that her hair framed her young pale face. She had a silver bow on her back and a knife strapped to her thigh, but seemed resigned against using them at all if she could.
"Bianca," Nico spoke, snapping the ghost's attention back to him. Reyna stood silently, still not quite used to ghosts appearing out of nowhere to talk to Nico. Well, there were Lares at Camp Jupiter, but they were just there and they rarely set out to find legionnaires. And to be honest, she trusted the Lares, for they were Roman in life. She didn't know how Greeks ghosts would react to her, or if they even cared. Reyna managed to shake herself out of her reviere to watch the conversation between the two.
"Bianca, I thought we discussed this," Nico was telling her. "I will be gone for a couple of days. I need you to take control of the Underworld while I'm gone."
Bianca's image shimmered briefly as she folded her arms, as if irritated. "Nico, I'm telling you, Dad's been gone too long for me to keep control like that, especially for long periods of time. Cerberus left the gates unguarded and you've been the only one able to send them back and keep them back. If you're gone for even a second, things will get out of control."
Nico placed his hand on his sister's shoulder, firmly but lovingly. To Reyna's surprise, Nico's hand didn't pass through her body as the praetor knew her hand would if she tried to touch the ghosts of the Underworld. "Bianca, normally I'd agree with you. But I have to go. Rachel's prophecy told the son of Hades to go. We are his last children, and I am the last one alive. Sister, you are a Hunter of Artemis. You died to save the boy I'm going to set free. You saw what we all see: there is no way that things can get better until Percy Jackson fights for Olympus again. Besides, you're the queen of the ghosts, second only to the king of the ghosts. You have to believe in your abilities." Nico's expression cracked; his hold on her shoulder tightened and he pulled her into him for a hug. Her image shimmered again before she wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair gently.
"You're so grown up, Nico. So strong. So brave. So different from the little boy I grew up with." She pressed her lips to her brother's forehead gently and lovingly. "Dad would be proud of you now, if he could see you." She stepped back from her brother's embrace.
"There's just one more thing I have to ask," she spoke softly, staring at her brother.
Nico checked his sword before sheathing it and getting into the chariot, avoiding her eyes. "What is it Bianca?"
"What about the camp? They need a leader. You're their leader."
"No, I'm not," he said with finality."I'm not their leader."
Bianca glared at him,though be never looked back at her. "What are you talking about? A leader at Camp Half-Blood is a cabin leader or a child of the Big Three..."
"But that's just it! I'm the son of Hades, Lord of the Dead! I can't be a cabin leader because we don't get a cabin! The Lord of the Dead isn't welcome among the living," he bit out angrily. "That's why I have to find Percy. He's the only son of the Big Three left besides me. Well...almost," Nico admitted, cutting his eyes sideways towards Reyna. "Please Bianca," the son of Hades pleaded to his sister. "I need to do this. Percy is like a brother to me. I couldn't save you. And I refuse to let the only living family I have join my domain. I need you to not worry about the camp, and guard the Underworld until I come back. I won't be long."
Bianca eyes softened, though she stared at the back of his black, shaggy hair. "Very well, Nico," she said finally. "I respect the wishes of the ghost-king." She made a bow that her brother couldn't see, but Reyna watched the interaction, feeling as if she shouldn't have been there for this intimate conversation. Bianca made her way to the front of the chariot to look up at Nico, who had just picked up the reins for horses that weren't there.
Nico seemed deep in thought before opening his mouth. "If it makes you feel better, take Mrs. O'Leary. She should be able to help you keep the dead in line until I get back."
Bianca smiled softly. "Thank you little brother," she whispered. Her image began to shimmer a little bit more, as if her connection was being interrupted with static. "Be careful with father's horses. They're one-of-a-kind." The spirit of Bianca shifted and crackled before it faded completely, and Reyna let loose a breath she hadn't realized that she was holding.
"Sorry you had to see that," Nico said, with a hint of ice at the back of his words, chilling Reyna.
"No matter," she said indifferently, covering all her thoughts she'd had since his sister showed up. "I have an older sister of my own. They insist on making sure we're doing the best we can and the best for ourselves. She's only worried about you." She made to touch Nico's shoulder in comfort, but the son of the dead flinched before she could even touch him. She pulled her hand back, as if she placed it too close to a blazing fire. "So, where are the horses?" she asked him, trying to take both of their minds off of what had just happened.
Nico looked up, facing towards the open road in front of the chariot. "I got this," Nico said, leaping out of the chariot and drawing his black sword in one fluid motion. He stood in front of Hades' chariot, sword held to the sky. "I call upon the black steeds of death, the stallions of hell! Come at the bidding of the son of Hades, the King of Ghosts! Fall under my command, serve me well!" he yelled to the sky, plunging his blade deep into the dirt ground in front of him.
Immediately Reyna could hear the sounds of wild horses, rearing and screaming as if their voices were a thousand rushing winds all converging on her at once. She closed her eyes and covered her ears at the sound, but as soon as it had started up, the noise ceased. When she opened her eyes, she saw two large, powerfully built pitch black stallions on either side of Nico. On closer look, she noted that they almost seemed to be shadows of horses, not completely solid. Nico patted the flowing mane of one while the other nuzzled in his palm, as if he was wondering if the master's son had something to feed him. Nico snapped his fingers and the horses turned, placing themselves in position to be secured to the chariot. The son of Hades made quick work doing that while Reyna watched at the horses of the dead.
All too soon, Nico climbed into the chariot, closing the back and securing it. He gave Reyna a glance and a smile played at his features. "What?" Reyna asked him, wondering what he was thinking.
Nico shook his head to make his hair resettle around his face. "You're gonna want to tie yourself down or hold on to something," he told her as he gripped the reins in hand. Instinctively, her hand clamped onto the side of the chariot, feeling the stony build resist her death-grip.
Without checking to see if she was ready, Nico snapped the reins twice and the horses from hell broke fast into a sprint, charging ahead without abandon. Nico's face began to twist into a sick form of maniacal glee, which worried Reyna all the more. She could barely stand upright in the chariot and look around due to the winds buffeting her whenever she tried. She didn't even know how Nico could see where he was going. She managed to open her eyes a little when she covered her face with the cloak, which began to billow wildly around her, and she saw the chariot's course coincide with a large, heavy slab of rock that was part of rubble in the downtown area.
"Umm, Nico..." Reyna shouted over the wind. "I don't know if you can see this, but we're heading straight for a big, huge rock!"
"That's the point!" Nico called back, madly grinning. The stallions seemed to feed off of Nico's energy, because they charged even faster towards the rock. "It's the only way to shadow-travel!"
Reyna covered her eyes, wondering how badly the Romans would decimate their Greek allies when they found her body splattered against the ruins of downtown Detroit.
The first thing that let Lyca know without a shadow of a doubt that she was alive was the pain. She hadn't been to the Underworld, but she knew that if she was, she'd be looing at a bunch of other souls wandering around. She'd look up and see nothing but the shell of the world she used to live in encasing her in her new abode. As it was, when Lyca opened her eyes, she saw stars. Twinkling stars shimmering all along the sky. She stretched her fingers and then all the way down her arms, making sure she could move them. Okay. My arms work. I'm not dead. So far this has been the best day in a long time in my book, she thought drily. She reached up to touch her head and only found a small lump over her left eye, but concluded that she hadn't received a concussion. The rest of her face felt fine, as did her neck. As she moved her hands lower, she felt a blanket covering her. She realized that's why she felt so warm. She slowly, reluctantly removed the blanket, intent on finishing her autopsy of her own body. She ran hands down her slender curves, lightly tapping each rib and finding that they were intact and hardly even bruised. Lyca touched her hip and found that a sharp pain fluttered through her, and she quickly took note of that. Her knees were slightly scraped, but overall she was just fine. Now that she knew for a fact that she was okay, the next important things were to make sure she had weapons to defend herself and find Jason if he was still alive. Luckily for her, she didn't have to look far: her belt was within arm's reach and when she looked up again, Jason was kneeling over her.
"You alright?" Jason asked her, offering her his hand to help her up. He shifted his body so that his knee could help her stay upright while she familiarized herself with her surroundings. "You've been out most of the day. Do you remember anything?"
Lyca held her head in one gloved hand. "I remember killing this girl. She was a bloodlust. I remember saving your behind. I remember you charging down the hill at..." Lyca's eyes got wide and she turned on Jason. "What happened to him? Where is he?"
Jason chuckled softly. "Hey, someone was looking out for him. Calypso possessed you to stop me and him from fighting. She told us what we need to do. We're gonna get out of here, Lyca. We're busting out."
Lyca's eyes got even wider, her amber eyes boring into Jason. "How is that even possible?"
Jason merely shrugged. "She just told us that it'll take all of us to do it. When she left you, you were still unconscious, so we brought you to where the guy was hiding with his girlfriend or something. It's pretty defensible, so we should be fine. He went out on patrol to find some food, and she's asleep right now, so you won't see them till he gets back."
Lyca nodded at him slowly. She clenched and opened her hand a couple of times before remembering. "Where was the bow I had with me?"
"Oh that," Jason said, remembering. "Annabeth tried to fix it, but something's wrong. The only thing wrong with it is that the bow needs to be restrung. We even have the string. But for some reason, we can't even bend the bow low enough to tie it off. When Annabeth couldn't do it, we assumed it was because she was weak. She's been injured for a couple days now, so we thought she was just not 100%. But I couldn't even string it. I left it by the entrance, but it's useless."
Lyca shook her head. "Bring it here. I want to try."
"No offense Lyca, but if we couldn't string it, why do you think you can?"
Lyca glowered at him for a moment. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that. I just think I might be able to figure it out."
"Whatever floats your boat," Jason sighed, moving to get the bow. As he left, Annabeth began to stir.
Her gray eyes immediately searched everywhere, noticing that only Lyca was there and the two boys were gone. "Where's-,"
"Jason went outside to go get me the bow. And the other guy went to find food I think."
Annabeth nodded evenly. Lyca watched her slowly before speaking. "Annabeth? Annabeth Chase?"
Annabeth gave Lyca her attention again. "How do you know me?"
"Well, Jason said your name before he left. But before that, we were at Camp Half-Blood together. You're the counselor for Athena's cabin. You might not know me. My father has plenty of children and it's sort of easy to get lost in the crowd." Lyca tucked some of her hair behind her ear.
Before Annabeth could respond, a rustle at the entrance alerted the girls to Jason's return, along with another boy behind him. "Percy!" Annabeth called out, her expression brightening instantaneously.
Percy Jackson sat down next to her, putting his arm around her and taking a bag off of his shoulder. "Hey Wise Girl. How are you feeling?"
Annabeth sighed, lightly grazing her fingers over a gap in her pants. "It's still kinda bad. If we don't get out of here by the time Calypso told us to, things could get worse."
"What's wrong?" Lyca asked.
Percy looked at her before responding. "Annabeth got hurt. We can't heal her. I thought I could, because when I use water I can usually heal people. But for some reason my powers don't work as well as they used to."
Lyca nodded as Jason handed her the unstrung bow. "Well, I don't know if anything of mine has been tampered with," she said as she gripped the bow between her legs, "But I may be able to help you." With a grunt, she pulled down on the bow, bending it enough for her to hold down long enough for her to wrap the string around the end and tie it tight enough for it to be effective. She grabbed the bow with her hand and gently plucked the string to hear a low, sweet twanging sound from the bow. "What was so hard about doing that?"
The three demigods looked at her with surprise. "What do you mean, what was so hard?" Percy asked her. "It was impossible to bend the bow, much less tie it off."
Annabeth stared at the bow for a moment. "Can I see that?" Lyca said nothing, jus turned the bow over to the daughter of Athena. Annabeth studied it in the firelight, searching for symbols or marks in the bow.
While Annabeth was scouring the bow for any sign of identity, Lyca turned her attention to Jason. She watched him almost irritatingly brush his unkempt hair out of his eyes and stare at the golden sword at his feet. He seemed deeply engrossed with his own thoughts but Lyca had some questions of her own to ask him. "So Jason," she said loud enough to grab his attention. When he looked up, she gave me a quick smile. "What were you saying about the Roman gods before we got sidetracked?"
Jason shifted his position to look directly at her. "Oh, that. While you were unconscious, me and Annabeth talked about it and I realized why we didn't understand each other."
"Okay," Lyca said, completely interested. "So, what's up?"
"The short story? I'm a Roman demigod. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter Maximus, god of the skies and lord of Olympus and the praetor of the 12th Legion Fulminata, at your service."
Lyca stared at him, confused about everything. "Roman demigod? How is that possible? The gods are Greek. Mr. D is Greek. Or at least he definitely isn't Roman. He's far too moody and not warlike at all."
"Let me try to explain," Annabeth spoke up, grabbing the attention of everyone around the fire. Without taking her eyes off of the bow in her hands she began to explain. "For you, me and Percy, the gods are Greek. Take me, for example. My mom's Athena, goddess of wisdom and righteous warfare. She also takes care of talents like weaving and certain arts, but when we see her, she is very powerful, commanding even. She took the head of Medusa and had it forged into Zeus's shield, making it even more powerful. She's a virgin goddess, so she doesn't have kids in the normal, physical fashion. We're what you call 'brain-children,' born completely from an intelligent molding of a talented genius mind and Athena."
She took a slow breath before pointing at Jason. "His version of Athena, Minerva, is completely different. The Romans didn't view women as powerful forces and certainly not as warriors. That was the job of men, and Mars's ultimate pleasure as Defender of Rome. Minerva was diminished to her womanly traits of weaving and womanswork, replaced as Jupiter's favorite by Mars. And above all else, the Roman form Athena took her vows of virginity even more seriously. No children at all. Not even brain-children."
Lyca nodded slowly. "Is that the only difference between our groups of demigods?" she asked Jason.
"That's only the beginning," Jason replied. "We get these tattoos when we are inducted into the Legion our first year." He held his arm to the firelight, proudly displaying this own tattoo with the bald eagle, the letters SPQR and twelve little tick marks under it. "We aren't separated by our parentage as you guys are. Only Apollo's children are allowed to utilize bows and arrows in warfare. There's more to that, but for the sake of time we can discuss the other stuff later."
Lyca nodded and smiled at him. "Thanks for the explanation. Sounds a little confusing, but I'll sort through it."
"Yup," Percy said, nodding his head towards Lyca. "It confuses me too. I'll figure it out eventually." Then the son of Poseidon turned his gaze to her. "Now what about you? What's your story?"
"My story?" Lyca asked him.
"Yup," Jason replied. "We all know each other's story. I'm Jupiter's son, Athena's brain-child. The son of Neptune-"
"Poseidon," Percy corrected with an honest smile. Jason nodded, gesturing to Percy.
"Wait!" Annabeth said. "I figured out who this bow belonged to." She held it up to the firelight, pointing to a symbol etched on the inside of the gold, along with an inscription: for the Crafty Odysseus.
Percy looked at the bow, then at his friend around the fire. "Who's Odysseus?" he asked, scratching his head.
All at once, Annabeth, Lyca and Jason palmed their foreheads. "How could you not know who Odysseus is Percy?" Annabeth asked him. "He designed the Trojan Horse, tricked Achilles into fighting for the Greeks, tried to sail home against all odds. He was Athena's favorite."
"I thought that was Orpheus," Percy asked them.
"Not at all," Lyca told him. "Orpheus was a son of one of the Muses, a famous singer. He sailed with Jason and his Argonauts and tried to get his wife out of the Underworld with just his song."
Percy looked even more confused. "I thought that was Oedipus."
Jason burst out laughing while Annabeth sighed. "Why do I even bother?" she muttered. "Oedipus was a king in Thebes who killed his father and married his mother."
"I'm sure that was Odysseus," Percy said with finality.
"Never mind," Annabeth said with resignation, while Lyca and Jason began rolling over, holding their sides and bursting with laughter. "Lyca, it's your turn."
Lyca took a deep breath in order to sort her thoughts out. "Okay. Well, my grandfather was a Caucasian mediator between the Native American people in various area and the government to try and do what he could to keep the government from taking so much land from them. When he realized that the government was just going to take land no matter what, he left them for one of the tribes and lived among the people. That's when he met my grandmother. Because he was an outsider, he had to prove himself moreso than the other men his age to marry her, but he pulled through and they had my mother.
She was special, touched by the spirits, the chieftain told my grandparents. She could see things that most of the tribal people couldn't see, even the medicine people. When she grew older, she could listen to people talk and determine whether or not people were telling the truth just by looking at them or listening to them. She was beautiful, but it was her gift that caught my father's attention most of all. He told her that it was because she was so truthful and could see beyond what was really there thathe even decided to appear to her. He knew that if he told her who he was, she would believe him without even having to prove it to her. He said it embodied everything he held dear. He couldn't always stay around, but it didn't matter as much because she knew he was a god, but she didn't tell anybody. He promised her that something special would be there to watch out for her whenever he wasn't there. And every night, there was a brown wolf that slept on her steps, even after I was born. She named me Lyca because in Greek 'lykos' means 'wolf.'"
Jason and Percy were staring, hooked on her story. When they realized she'd stopped, Percy spoke up. "So? Who's the father? Is is Hermes?"
"No, no," Jason spoke up. "It's a minor god isn't it?"
Lyca grinned a slightly wolfish grin. "Nope. My father's the god of light, poetry, music, medicine and above all archery. He's Apollo."
A/N: This one came out sooner than I expected and I think I write double what a standard chapter was. Well, the suspense is over. I wonder how many of you actually knew her father was Apollo. Go back and see if you can catch all of the hints. I didn't end up adding the extra perspective I referred to, but that should be forthcoming. Still psyched over Mark of Athena and just spent the week delusional with a high fever and a cold. But some of that wrote this chapter...at any rate, I hope you like it. Within a couple chapters we should see some busting out. Later guys, hope you like it.