CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I Blowtorch A Park

I don't own Percy Jackson.

Percy wasn't sure what she was expecting. Drowning was at the top of her list, for sure. Swept away by the current while drowning seemed the most likely.

Yet she sank, gently, to the river floor, where Riptide was sticking out of the mud. The fish in the river gave her curious looks, stunning her when she realized she could understand their thoughts. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage—beer bottles, old shoes, plastic bags—swirled up all around her. She found herself becoming more and more of an environmentalist by the day.

She realized a few things at that moment. Firstly, the water was healing her. It wasn't quick, of course, but she couldn't feel the Chimera poison boiling in her veins anymore. She was alive, which she hadn't realized she loved being until she was staring death in the face.

Secondly, she wasn't wet. She could feel the coolness of the water, of course, the swift currents racing through her fingers and breezing through her hair, but when she touched her charred shirt, it felt perfectly dry, as did her hands.

Seeing an old cigarette lighter floating lazily past her, she snatched it, thinking, No way.

Yet she still flicked the lighter. It sparked. A tiny flame appeared, right there at the bottom of the Mississippi. The laugh Percy released could've been that of a madman. Taken by a sudden madness, she grabbed a soggy paper bag, which immediately turned dry at her touch. Hands trembling, she lit the bag with no problems. Yet, when she let it go, the flames spluttered out, and the bag became slimy and disgusting again.

Percy laughed again, and it only then occurred to her that she was laughing in relief.

The last thing she realized was that she was breathing.

She was fifty feet deep in water, and she was breathing normally.

Somehow, she found the strength to stand. Her hands were trembling. She should've been dead, and the fact she wasn't was a miracle. She imagined a woman's voice, one that sounded like her mother: Percy, what do you say?

"Um… thanks." Underwater, she sounded like she did on recordings, like a much older kid. "Thank you… Father."

It felt strange to call someone she never met Father, but she knew as well as he did that it was his influence, to some extent, that saved her. He didn't respond, but Percy hadn't expected him to. He had an entire kingdom to run, after all. Yet just seeing the dark drift of garbage downriver, the enormous catfish gliding by, the flash of sunset on the water's surface far above, turning everything the colour of butterscotch still hurt. She had expected him to respond, after all.

Why had Poseidon even saved her? The more she thought about it, the more ashamed she felt. She'd gotten lucky the first few times, but the first time she actually did have to face a monster by herself, she had failed so spectacularly it would've been one for the history books. What was the point of even going on this quest? Who thought it was a brilliant idea to send two twelve-year-olds and a goat on a death quest across the country? She had been so worried about them betraying her, but in the end, it was her dragging them down, not the other way around.

She was no hero, and she shouldn't have even made a play at being one. She should've just stayed down there and become one with the catfish.

Yet just as she thought that, she heard that woman's voice again: Percy, take the sword. Your father believes in you.

There was no mistaking the voice this time. It wasn't just her imagination. Her words seemed to come from everywhere, rippling through the water like dolphin sonar.

"Where are you?" she called aloud.

Then, through the gloom, Percy saw her—a woman the colour of the water, a ghost in the current, floating just above the sword. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes, barely visible, were green like hers.

A lump formed in Percy's throat. She said, "Mom?"

No, child, only a messenger, though your mother's fate is not as hopeless as you believe. Go to the beach in Santa Monica.

"What?"

It is your father's will. Before you descend into the Underworld, you must go to Santa Monica. Please, Percy, I cannot stay long. The river here is too foul for my presence.

"But… who—how did you—"

There was so much she wanted to ask, but the words were caught in her throat.

I cannot stay, brave one, the woman said. She reached out, and Percy felt the current brush her face like a caress. You must go to Santa Monica! And, Percy, do not trust the gifts…

Her voice faded.

"Gifts?" Percy asked. "What gifts? Wait!"

She made one more attempt to speak, but the sound was gone. Her image melted away. If it was Percy's mother, she had lost her again.

Percy wished she could drown herself. The only problem was that she was apparently immune to drowning. She could still hold her breath forever, she supposed…

Your father believes in you, the woman had said.

She'd also called Percy brave… unless she was talking to the catfish.

Percy swam toward Riptide and grabbed her sword. Had Echidna and the Chimera left? Had Will and Grover come back after hearing the fight and ended up having to clean up her mess? Guilt swirled in her stomach like the silt around her. Yet she still persisted.

"Thank you, Father," she said again, and this time, she genuinely meant it.

She capped the sword and swam for the surface.

It wasn't a pretty sight. The entire area was torched—grass burnt, trees reduced to ashes, scorch marks everywhere. The Chimera and its fat, snakey mother was gone, at least, but the beautiful scenery was now destroyed.

Will and Grover looked even worse.

Grover looked like he had been crying—his eyes were red and he was sniffling. Will kept muttering to himself of how much of an idiot he was for just running off, his expression almost as depressed as Grover's.

Percy found herself almost smiling for some morbid reason. The fact that she had friends who actually cared if she lived or died… it was a strange feeling, but not one entirely unwelcome.

"You two look like idiots."

Will seemed to move at the speed of light. He was in front of her in an instant, the relief on his face indescribable as he pulled her into a hug, nearly knocking the wind out of her with how hard he was hugging her. Grover was there in an instant too, crushing all three of them in a bear hug—and then they were all laughing and crying at the same time and Percy didn't even know why but it felt so, so good—

"Thank the gods!" Grover half-sobbed into her shoulder. "We thought you went to Hades the hard way! I'm never leaving you alone for even five minutes—never!"

"What happened?" Will demanded.

"I fought a chihuahua."

"What?"

"Where did it go?" she glanced around frantically. "I doubt it just left—we need to find it before it hurts other people—"

"Percy, we need to get back on the train," Will said. "My mist isn't going to last much longer and it's going to depart soon."

As they ran back to the train, she told them everything—the Chimera, Echidna, and the underwater lady's message.

"Whoa," said Grover. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."

Somehow, they made it back onto the train just in time. As they settled in their seats, Will snapped his fingers again—the dazed look in the other passenger's eyes vanished, and they all blinked a few times before going back to what they were doing originally.

As the train pulled out of the forest, Percy closed her eyes, head on Will's shoulder as she drifted off to sleep.

Of course, this chapter is extremely similar to the PJO one because... well, it's just a conversation. Also, it isn't long, so new chapter!

As for the next one... well, I remember it being a monstrous size, so I can't say when I'll be finished. Hopefully soon, but I don't know. Here's to hoping!

As always, thank you readers, and reviews are appreciated!