I JUST FINISHED THE VLADIMIR TOD SERIES AND I'M NOT HAPPY! SAD ENDING!
Somehow they managed to get Alvie back to the Big House, but it had taken a lot of fight and effort. He resisted every step of the way, eyes burning a brighter, more sinister crimson than they had ever seen.
Chiron, at first was stunned, while Mr. D looked atypically intrigued. He even set his Diet Coke and cards down just to watch events unfold. Annabeth did her best not to glare at the god, through fear of being turned into a bottle nose dolphin. The only consolation from that would be she would still be able to talk to Percy.
The centaur murmured something to himself, beckoning to his pupils and leading them into the Big House, wheeling along as fast as he could.
They reached the stairs to the basement and he pointed down.
"First door on the left- the key's on the hook outside. Keep the key with you."
"Are you locking Alvie up?" Percy demanded angrily.
"It's for the best and not for long. He will be free to roam around the room and I will attend to food. There is a bed and a variety of books inside, but he has to remain put and out of trouble while we discuss this." Chiron's eyes lingered momentarily on Annabeth's and she realised that he had been thinking along the same lines as her.
Percy still didn't look too happy with this new idea, but he decided to go along with it; for his son's safety as well as the camp's.
It took a good fifteen minutes to pull Alvie into the windowless room. It was relatively homely and colourful for solitary confinement, but Percy still didn't like it.
Annabeth kept the key in her pocket, frowning at the door.
"Are you sure he'll be OK in there?"
"Your mother, Hephaestus and Hecate designed this room. Any powers are instantly quelled- he will be perfectly safe and comfortable, but he won't find a way out." Chiron looked at the son of Poseidon, his expression as equally stern as his tone. "I know you disapprove of this, Percy, but it is only temporary, I assure you." Percy just nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Come, we must talk about this further."
Crystal was dying to go to the toilet, but Francis was here! She couldn't go in front of a boy! Or anyone for that matter, but still! She needed to pee!
Francis was pacing the cell, looking around fearfully and steering clear of the door. Every now and then footsteps sounded outside and they managed to get snatches of conversation, but they had no idea what was going on.
"Crystal, vhy are you dancing?" He stopped in his tracks and must have looked at her curiously as she could feel the pressure of his confused gaze on her.
"I'm not! I just really need to go." She hissed, embarrassed. It didn't help that he found it funny either. "Francis, I will kill you!" She growled. And she would have had it not been for the fact if she moved too suddenly, there would be a slight puddle on the floor…
"OK, OK." He went and sat on the pathetic excuse of a bed and squashed the pillows to his ears, covering himself with the blanket. "OK!" He called, his voice muffled slightly.
Crystal had such great taste in friends.
Once relieved, she prodded Francis. "Better?" He asked. She nodded, smiling. "Nice dancing."
"Shut up." She sat on the bed next to him and he masterfully flicked the blanket out so it covered both of them. It wasn't the best of blankets, but it did help a little to fight off the biting cold of the cell.
"Crystal?"
"Mmm?"
"What vas he on about? Zis… demigods thing?"
"Oh… um…"
"Vas he lying?" Francis paused. "You told me about it too. He vasn't lying, vas he?"
"No. We explained in a hurry then, but-" And she went on to tell him everything she knew about demigods. "My dad is a son of Hades while Alvie's dad is a son of Poseidon."
"They are couzins?"
"Yeah, on the godly side, even though gods don't have DNA."
"If gods don't have DNA, would zere be blanks in a demigod's DNA?" Crystal stared at him. "If zey were to take a DNA test or somezing- would zere be blanks where zere is supposed to be god DNA."
"I've never thought about it… you'll have to ask Annabeth. Her mom's Athena." It was Francis's turn to wear the blank look.
"She's a maiden goddess."
"Yeah I know, but Annabeth said Athena had kids in a… unique way."
"Oh." He fell quiet again. Crystal gave him time to process all this new information, picking at the blanket irritably. "Vat are kids of demigods called?"
"Legacies. Why?"
"Just vondering." Crystal nodded and let him think again.
Alvie stared at his hands. They were his hands, but why didn't they feel like that?
He tried to raise his right hand, but nothing happened.
Pathetic. Truly pathetic. You shouldn't fight me, Alvie; it's not good for you. Now, if we were to-
Alvie clamped down on that other one and tried to think Alvie.
There were books here. They lined shelves along three of the four walls. Against the back wall was a single bed and a curtained off section that he had discovered to be a bathroom. There was a fridge here too, one that magically produced any food and drink he felt like.
Not that he had eaten, but he was curious as to why the fridge had been empty.
I told you not to fight me! A white-hot, electrifying bolt of power rippled down his spine and spiked his legs, causing him to cry out and fall to his knees. A throbbing pain worked its way from his heart and outwards, blurring his vision and bringing a sickening taste of blood with it.
Maniacal laughter tore through his skull, echoing relentlessly in his ears. You're weak! Why Apollo chose you, I will never know! What are you doing?
Alvie pushed himself to his feet, feeling like he was entirely made of Jell-O. He staggered heavily and tripped, grabbing a shelf. It collapsed and books rained down on him, but he barely noticed, the screech of car brakes blocking every other sense.
He forced himself up again, not giving himself time for a break. He needed to get up and find something to draw with.
No you don't! Torment scored every fibre of his being, three times as potent as before, but he managed to collapse on the bed and not the stone floor.
There had to be something here he could draw with! A marker, a stick of chalk… anything!
But he couldn't see.
"And I think he's trying to fight it, but he can't. Whoever that guy was, he's had many years to master and strengthen his skills repeatedly. Alvie hasn't even had a full year yet."
"Alvie is powerful, granted, especially for such a short space of time." Chiron sighed. "We need something truly compelling to trigger Alvie's subconscious and place him back in control."
"Crystal." Percy and Annabeth said without missing a beat. Chiron nodded, as if he had expected that.
"Where is she?"
"We don't know." Annabeth ran her hands tiresomely through her hair, glaring at the floor.
"We're looking though."
"That's what he was doing!" Annabeth exclaimed, her eyes brightening with thought. "Sitting on the pier all this time- he was trying to find Crystal!"
"How? He just sat there."
"I'm not sure how- maybe extending his thoughts and trying to locate her or… or…" Annabeth looked at her mentor, her mind whirring with thousands of possibilities.
"Yes, that makes sense." Chiron mused. "Tobias told me of how Alvie easily slipped into his mind and picked through his memories masterfully. You say you found Alvie on the porch after he woke up?" Percy nodded. "Were his eyes closed?" Percy nodded again. "Evidence and witnesses…" Chiron said quietly. "Ah."
"What?" Annabeth demanded, bunching her fists and squaring her shoulders.
"Come with me." He wheeled himself out. Percy glanced at Annabeth, who suddenly looked ready to hit something for Annabeth reasons.
"You go. I'll stay with Alvie."
"Are you sure?"
"You'll understand it better than me." Percy gave a half-hearted, lopsided smile and she relaxed slightly.
"OK. I'll be back in a minute, Seaweed Brain." She kissed him lightly, pressed the key into his hand and ran after their mentor. Percy trailed out of the living room and back down to the basement, twirling the key around his finger absent-mindedly.
"Alvie?" He called, knocking on the door. He didn't get a reply- not that he expected to- but this still worried him. He sat the key in the lock, contemplating if this was a good idea.
All his instincts were screaming at him to check on his son, but were they really his instincts or just him being an over-protective father?
He removed the key rather reluctantly and knocked again, louder this time. "Alvie? I know you probably won't talk, but… if… we can help in any way; you have to let us know. You may be, but we're not mind readers." Percy paused, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. "I can't pretend I know fully what's going on with this whole psychic thing… you should talk more so we can understand it. I just… I want to… remind you that… what happened… on that quest. That wasn't your fault. It's all back to normal now anyway." He stopped again. "As far as normal goes for our family… Anyway, I don't blame you for anything. I don't know if you're still stressing about that or what, but if you need to talk about anything, I'm here."
Alvie was still quiet.
Percy bounced the key off his fingertips, chewing his lip. He shouldn't open the door, but he had to see if Alvie was OK.
Just to check on him, he decided, placing the key in the lock and twisting it. He closed the door behind and was surprised to see his son sat in the middle of the floor, all the books bobbing gently through the air.
The room's lights had been knocked out, but a steady glow emitted from the snowy pentagram. Alvie was sat at the centre, the very edge of his creation inches from Percy's feet.
Did Percy move forward or would that disturb the pentagram-meditation-thing Alvie had going on?
He hissed his son's name, but Alvie didn't even stir. He seemed more relaxed now, but Percy couldn't see how he had drawn the pentagram. There was nothing he could see that would have allowed Alvie to do so.
"We are going to go home, aren't we?"
"Yes." Crystal replied instantly.
"How are you so sure?"
"Because I trust them." Francis sniffled, catching her attention. "Are you homesick?" He hesitated before nodding admittedly. Crystal softened her expression and grasped his hand in a sisterly and reassuring fashion. "We'll get out of here, don't worry. They wouldn't just leave us." He nodded haltingly, wiping at his eyes. Crystal tried to change the subject. "Do you want to play twenty questions?"
"Vat's that?"
"We take it in turns to ask the other a question- anything- and they have to answer honestly. Great ice-breaker thingy and it's fun." She grinned mischievously and Francis suddenly didn't look as eager to play this game. "I'll be nice, I promise."
"OK."
"Favourite colour."
"Orange."
"Your turn."
"Oh, um… have you ever messed up big time on stage?" And it continued like this for gods knew how long.
Their game came to a halt when Strike stomped into view.
Crystal was trying to figure out how Strike wasn't a pile of senseless goo on the floor following Alvie's beyond-impossible-fear-inducing stare and she intended to find out.
"So… how are things?" She asked casually. He glared at her, grabbing them both forcibly by the arms and hauling them out. "You know, you could try and be civil. We might be a bit more cooperative that way."
"I doubt that." He snarled, yanking harshly on Francis's arm. The French pre-teen whimpered in fear, struggling to break free. Strike rounded on him, opening his mouth to chastise him fiercely when he was distracted by a strong kick to a certain nether regions.
He released them as he doubled over in agony.
Crystal grabbed Francis by the wrist and took off running down the hall.
From behind them, Strike shouted orders to his men; "Don't let them above ground!"
"Found him like this just after you left. What'd you think?"
"He's either definitely loco now or he's testing his powers." Annabeth studied the pentagram curiously, seeing runes and lines everywhere. "Chiron?"
"I'm impressed, I must say. May one of you fetch someone from the Hecate cabin and have them inspect this? The other one, see if you can find Rachel. We may need her verdict on this too. I'll keep an eye on him, rest assured." Chiron smiled warmly and their hesitant expressions relaxed slightly.
After they had left, Chiron resumed examining Alvie's latest development.
It had not been drawn, that he was sure of. To his knowledge, he knew Alvie had scribed one pentagram and successfully restored Max from that zombie-like state Luke had caused with terribly advanced technology. Even then, Alvie had had help from his immortal grandmother.
Alvie opened his eyes and saw Chiron staring at the floor intently. He looked down too, feeling oddly calm, the other one blissfully quiet.
How had he done that? He had found nothing to draw with and had relented, sinking to the floor and closing his eyes. The other one ranted and raved endlessly for what felt like hours, but was suddenly caught off as an immense, soothing wave of mellowness washed over Alvie.
Chiron cleared his throat and Alvie stared at him. "Care to explain?" The centaur asked kindly, gesturing at the floor. Alvie looked back at this latest puzzlement and remained quiet. "I hear you have not spoken since waking. Why is that?"
Why hadn't he spoken? His voice was working, right? It had to be- he hadn't lost it.
Maybe it was just choice. Quiet by choice. It was nice and saved him having to try and explain things to no avail.
Chiron did not push him, waiting patiently.
Annabeth and Percy had returned at some point. Alvie still had said nothing.
A daughter of Hecate- Melina, her name was- and Rachel were with them.
Both of them looked equally amazed, carefully and intriguingly studying this new piece of work presented to them. Melina started mumbling to herself, her eyes flicking from rune to rune. Rachel was the first to take a step forward.
Alvie frowned and the white lines were suddenly piercingly bright. Rachel stepped back, offering a comforting smile. She had just been testing his reaction, if they was to be one.
"They're coordinates, look." Melina pointed at several runes, listing off a trail of numbers that meant nothing to Alvie.
"That's off-shore." Percy commented. "Way off shore." He glanced at the runes again, even though he didn't understand them. "Thirty, thirty-one, seventy-five, twelve."
"Those are-" Annabeth started. "Why-? No…" She looked at her son, as if he had just presented her with something that she had hoped to never see again.