A blood-red sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky crimson and burnt orange and royal blue. Percy ran a hand through his black hair as he squinted at it. It looked angry, and Percy felt a trickle of dark satisfaction run through his veins. He'd offered peace, and Apollo chose to fight: any injuries that followed were the sun god's own fault. And Zeus's, Percy thought. The king of the gods deserved the lion's share of the blame, and to be honest, Percy quite enjoyed blaming him. He'd found that flipping the sky off was an excellent way to relieve stress.
It wasn't as good as the soothing, rhythmic crashing of the waves upon the shore, but still, very cathartic. Percy indulged the urge before looking back down. The field, once lush and vibrant green, was a muddy brown, with gashes and drifts carved into it. There were cracks where he and his dad had split the earth and strange, creeping formations where the God-King's lightning had turned dirt to stone. Fulgurites, Percy remembered. He tried not to think about who'd told him that.
Even the forest bordering the field had suffered, the closest trees shattered into pieces or torn up and laying on their sides, the willows and pines and proud oaks the only casualties of the battle. Apart from the fish, Percy thought with a twinge of regret. Most what had lived in the lake had suffocated, flopping desperately as their home was stolen and wielded as a weapon. When the gods war, only mortals die.
He felt his father breach the surface and turned to face him as Poseidon walked out of the lake. The sea god looked untouched by the fight last night, and once again wore a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts with a fishing hat, lures dangling from the brim. Percy nodded his head at him, and for a moment the two were silent.
"The cyclopes are almost done," Poseidon said.
"I suppose it'd be a bit redundant to ask if they could add a moat."
The sea god's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "As the fortress is entirely underwater, it might be, yes."
"We could make a reverse moat." Percy paused. "Wait, that's just a wall. Pretend I didn't say that."
"Say what?" his father asked innocently.
"Much appreciated. How are Benthesikyme and Triton?"
"They're recovering well. Triton is already back on his feet and will be coming shortly, though Benthy will need another few days. Artemis did quite a number on her."
Percy raised his eyebrows at the nickname but didn't reply, remembering his own encounter with the goddess of the hunt. The cuts he'd received from her had been shallow, deadly only in light of how many she'd given him. His arm and should still ached, though. Better add that to the to-don't list: don't get shot.
"How are you feeling?"
Percy blinked. "Apart from the arrow wounds, I'm… I feel great, actually. Like I just downed a pot of instant coffee, but not jittery at all."
"That would be the leyline," Poseidon said, rubbing his chin. "This cornerstone in particular is strong- it has more of Ouranos's seed than any other in America."
"His what?"
"Well, when a sky and earth love each other very much-"
"Right, thanks, I regret asking," the demigod said with a grimace.
"Not impressed with the source of your newfound power?"
Percy shook his head, keeping his eyes on his father to avoid looking at the destruction they had wreaked. "I like my power-ups like I like my… well, just about everything: without other's bodily fluids."
"Content yourself with the fact that you'll be rid of it shortly. I would have thought you'd begin to feel the effects by now, but it would be best to not tempt the Fates. Besides, I expect your stronghold to be impressive enough to make up for your discomfort." The god's smile dropped as he tilted his head, as though listening for whispers on the autumn breeze. "The cyclopes have excellent timing.
Percy followed his father into the lake, sighing as the waters embraced him like an old friend before freezing. Salt water, he noted dimly. It felt… richer than fresh water, older, somehow. Heavy, as if it ached to crush him like a trash compactor. He couldn't describe how, but he knew the water was from the Pacific Ocean as surely as he knew that what few fish had survived the fight hadn't survived the change. There would be no steelhead walleye or catfish to greet him at the bottom of the lake, no bass or northern pike to swim through his legs playfully.
"The waters came from deep within the Mariana trench," Poseidon said with a careless wave of his hand, as if reading Percy's mind.
"I can feel the difference," the demigod said. His father shot him a considering look- he must not have been able to keep the tinge of condemnation from his tone.
So that was why it felt oppressive- as much as a body of water could to Percy. At least the lake housed a nereid rather than the usual naiad- a daughter of the Potamoi would have had to flee their home or die when his father salted their waters. Still, the nereid kept her distance, cringing halfway down in the north-east portion of the lake. He forced himself to focus on the fortress as they approached it.
The lake wasn't this deep before. We're at over fifteen-hundred feet, Percy realized. The depths would have been pitch-black for anyone other mortal, but he saw the bed of the lake clear as day. The structure didn't look like a castle, not really. I suppose King Arthur didn't have to worry about armies marching down on Camelot. Perks of real estate on land. And he got a wizard. Why don't I get a wizard?
He tore himself from the line of thought before he could get too distracted. Besides, King Arthur couldn't will himself dry after a shower. Not that he took showers; actually, when were showers- he cut off himself again and cast his gaze forwards once more.
All he could see before him was an iridescent dome hundreds of feet tall with narrow slits ordered neatly and sharp points jutting out every few feet. Each spike was flat and sharp on the sides, like swords longer than Percy was tall, alternating between vertical and horizontally positioned, set in the curl of one of the endless carved waves that covered the outer wall.
There were two massive doors that glittered bronze in the nonexistent light save for a large sea-green trident with a circlet around the handle. One faced him and the other the surface, as if waiting for sunlight to pierce the depth and shine upon it. Above the uppermost door was a geyser that churned the waters white as they rushed upwards. In front of the door that rested on the lake floor was a deep pit containing a swirling eddy, a whirlpool that hungered and bayed for prey. That totally counts as a moat, he thought with no little indignation. He refrained from pointing it out for the moment; there was a feel of solemnity, gravitas, in the air (water), and he did have some tact.
As they approached the northern-most gate, Poseidon waved his hand, causing a celestial bronze grate that matched the door to shoot out and cover the pit in front of it. Percy could feel it tugging at him as he swam over it but dismissed its greedy grasp with a dismissive thought. His father gestured again and the doors slid down silently, disappearing into the lakebed. The moment they crossed the threshold the grate behind them rushed back beneath the seastone floor. The wall was twenty feet thick, and as they passed it the equally deep gate rose to once more block those who would wish to enter.
Percy looked around as they swam towards the inner wall, another dome, though there were no arrow loops like in the outer dome. The entire wall was instead curved lattice work, glimmering like a rainbow with another set of five entrances, paired with a geyser and pits to match the exterior gates. At each intersection of the filigree was a giant pearl that reflected the colorful light onto the inside of the outer dome behind him, each centered on the arrow loops that peeked out into the open waters. Beneath each slit was a half-moon shaped protrusion where mermen could recline while on watch.
As he turned back to the inner dome, he noticed there was a faint… not quite humming, but something was close to it, that intensified the closer he got to the pearl-studded lattice-work. His crown started to heat up- not really, but he could definitely feel it react somehow to the bone-white orbs. His eyes caught on the aquamarine embedded in the wall equidistant from each gate. It's not coming from the pearls, he thought before his whole body felt a sudden and faint ache pulse through it. He dismissed it with a shake of his head and turned away.
Behind him, he could see two more doors leading out of the fortress, identical to the one that welcomed him in. No doubt there was another on the opposite side, making five entrances to guard. The number of senses, Aphrodite's number; the number of questers that journeyed to free Artemis. It was an ill-omened number, and while Percy wouldn't say he was superstitious, enduring prophecy after prophecy after prophecy had a way of feeding paranoia until it was a bloated, greedy thing, slavering for slights and whispering dark counsel.
His father led the way past the inner wall and to the castle Percy had been expecting. Still not really a castle, he groused internally; it was clearly not built with defense in mind, but after seeing the two domes, he rather thought that anything that made it here wouldn't have problems even if the structure was properly defended.
It looked like a castle-temple hybrid, square in contrast to the half-spheres that stood guard over it, with elegant ionic pillars every twenty-or-so feet. The seastone between each column was carved to look like the open ocean with great whites and hammerheads swimming by their lonesome; dolphins grouped in pods of three or four; long arms of kelp and octopi reaching upwards. Each corner column extended upwards where it blossomed into a tower, with the classic battlements connecting each one. No Merlin, but I suppose I've got plenty of merlons to make up for it.
Perfectly centered on the walls he could see circular holes that aligned with the gems he'd seen embedded in the inner wall, unimpeded by the various other buildings that circled the innermost sanctum. Food stores, kitchens, barracks, infirmaries, and- he winced as pain danced along his bones once more, stronger and longer-lasting than before- and armories, no doubt, each grandiose but less those than the castle they approached.
"I get that cyclopes are good at their job, but how in the name of Had- in the names of Di Immortales did they manage in this in under six hours?" Percy asked.
His father hummed for a moment as they ascended the stairs, leading up to it. "They're better suited to a forge, but still excellent at construction. Besides, much preparation was taken in advance; it was more a task of assembling than building."
While Percy was pretty sure that 'assembling' was just a fancy way to say 'building', he didn't press the point. The obelisk in front of him seemed a smidge more important. It stood proud and defiant in the center of the castle, crowned with an aquamarine gemstone that looked as big as Percy. "Is that where the magic happens?"
"It's not magic," Poseidon said thoughtfully, looking into the far distance past the pillar the stretched halfway to the ceiling, higher than the balcony that ran around the room. It put Percy's nerves on edge. "But yes, this is where the mag- the transfer will take place. No, the consecration. That seems suitably dramatic."
"How dramatic are we talking about here?" Now that Percy thought about it, he couldn't wait. The pain was back, but now it was back with a vengeance, coursing through him like the lightning his father had shielded his children from. His nerves had gone straight off the edge and were plunging down, down, down… don't think about it don't think about it, he chanted internally.
After a moment he noticed his father eyeing him with concern. "You feel it, don't you? The power in your blood that your veins cannot hope to hold. It's fighting you, isn't it?
Percy nodded jerkily.
"Then we have no time to waste. Come," his father said, swimming up to the jewel. Percy followed him blindly; his vision flashed a blinding white for the briefest instant as he rose.
"Place your hands on the gem."
The father commanded and the son obeyed.
"Focus on that feeling of otherness, of wrongness. Embrace the pain."
Percy gasped as it embraced him.
"It is a part of you yet set apart. Beneath you."
With a snarl Percy gripped the agony within him and pushed it down, deeper and deeper, until he swore he could feel it in his soul.
"Chain it, then let it free by the grace of your mercy."
He held it there, restrained, and it almost felt like it had a mind of its own. That didn't matter; it was his, and when he commanded it forth, it obeyed.
The leyline's might burst from him into the aquamarine that filled his vision. The jewel glowed with power, shooting out through the five holes in the walls to meet the aquamarine in the inner dome. Past the obelisk, he could faintly see the lattice-work light-up in a beautiful cascade of pearls shining on pearls shining on pearls shining on the outer dome, rushing out from the arrow loops and into the lake proper.
Percy felt relief at first, as though a great weight had been dropped from his shoulders, a memory of how it felt when the sky slipped from his hands into Atlas's. He felt weightless, and lighter still. He had the sudden realization that this was Not Good before he crumpled. At least he wouldn't be fainting on the floor. Floating was much more dignified.
I really should have insisted on more details before we started, Percy thought before he drifted away.
He'd learned long ago that being knocked unconscious would not save him from dreams, but this one was… odd. There was a man that wasn't a man; his face marked him as a god or monster or something in between. It shifted constantly, cheekbones rising and lowering like the tides, a nose that curved and uncurled and grew and shrunk in turn, and skin that couldn't decide whether it preferred olive, ebony, or marble. All that remained steady were two blue eyes verging on purple and ashen hair.
Percy could deal with that: a shapeshifting dude wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen under Hypnos's watch, but all the man did was stare at him. Percy felt like a baby squid under the keen gaze of Xander, the merman who'd chased him out of 'his temple' (read: his kitchen) the day after the Battle at the Gates. It was just a freaking snack, honestly, he totally overreacted.
The man was still studying him. What kind of proper god doesn't have at least one narcissistic monologue with sinister overtones well-rehearsed to be as megalomanic as possible? What else do they spend their immortal lives doing? He suddenly remembered why he existed in the first place and decided to focus on staring right back at the strange being.
He became more and more sure that the man was a god the longer Percy looked at him. There wasn't aura like the one that normally accompanied divinity, but his gut was telling him the entity was a god, and he hadn't gotten this far by distrusting his instincts. He tried to open his mouth to speak but found that he couldn't move; he wasn't even breathing or blinking, nor could he look away.
After some time, an hour or a day or an eternity later, the man nodded at him once, turned, and melted into shadows that flowed ominously across the ground before dispersing into nothingness. Ha! Theatrics. I knew he was a god.
Then he woke up. He regretted this immediately and immensely. His body was sore all over, like last night before he'd reached the leyline's focal point but worse. With great effort he lifted his head, the crown heavy as a lodestone on his brow.
One chiton-and-chlamys clad merman shouted something to another in armor, who swam out of the building quickly, scaled tail undulating back in powerful strokes. The one who spoke rushed over to Percy. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I need to starting asking more questions before participating in rituals of any kind." The merman didn't seem to know how to respond to that, so Percy kept talking even though his throat felt like he'd swallowed a gallon of pois- of acid. "Mostly just aches. Should be right as rain in a day or two."
The doctor swallowed heavily, gaunt blue face straining to hold back a grimace. "My lord, you've been unconscious for a week."
Percy's mind screeched to a halt. A whole fucking week? He needed to get out of the infirmary and find out what in Corpse Breath's name was going on. While he wasn't sure could stand unassisted, he didn't need to; he didn't have to swim upright, he simply willed himself to be so and the water grudgingly pushed him out of the sick bed to face the merman.
"Lord Perseus, I would strongly recommend against leaving the sanatorium," the merman said, his shark teeth biting his royal blue lips nervously.
"I appreciate the suggestion…" he looked at the doctor expectantly.
"Physician Ambrose."
"I appreciate the suggestion, Physician Ambrose, but for one, call me Percy, and for two, sorry, but I'm going to do exactly that. Do you know where my father is?"
Ambrose nodded once, slowly. "I believe Lord Poseidon in conference with Lord Triton and Lady Kymopoleia at high command, the fourth building on the right."
"When facing towards or away from the sanatorium?"
"Away, Lord Percy," the physician said with a blink of his radioactive-green eyes.
Percy nodded. "Right, thanks. For the information and for making sure I didn't die. Also, just Percy." Etiquette be damned, spending most of his time around gods would not make him as monstrous proud as they were. "Peace," he called over his shoulder with a wave.
A group of mers instantly locked onto him as he entered the inner dome proper, heads swiveling like owls. Don't go there, he told himself. He nodded at them, and they bowed back before deciding to pretend they weren't clearly staring at him out of the corner of their eyes as he swam past them.
The castle was surrounded by throngs of bustling mermen and merwomen, most clearly warriors. Seaweed-green, blue, coral red, and inky black skinned soldiers swam to and fro; in the distance he could make out a group centered around a training yard. The sound of metal crashing against metal rang faint but rhythmic from the other side of the inner dome. It reminded him of happier days watching the tide come in while the Hephaestus cabin lovingly labored on their creations.
He passed the messenger from earlier returning to the sanatorium before he reached high command. There were two guards standing outside, one wielding a celestial bronze trident with a net held loosely in his other hand, and the other with a long spear, tipped with Atlantean steel that shimmered in the ray of light that crossed overhead. It emanated from the temple-castle at the center of the inner dome, along with four brothers; light for each cardinal direction, and another aimed upwards at the sky. At least he'd passed out making something pretty. Definitely not pretty enough to be worth a full week.
The two mermen standing watch bowed their heads at his approach, floating aside to reveal his father, Triton, and Kym standing around a massive seastone table. It held two glowing half-spheres that when combined would stand taller than him. Not them, though; each god was about seven feet tall at the moment. They all looked at him as the water moved him forwards.
"Hey all. Fantastic weather we're having," he said with a wave. A small crack sounded from one of the globes, which, upon closer inspection, he noticed were covered with water and rock beneath tiny, angry clouds that were spitting sparks. "Or not, it looks like."
"I hadn't expected you to be cleared by the physician so soon," Poseidon said with a raised eyebrow that was somehow worse than Triton's look of intense disdain.
Percy shrugged and said, "I probably should stay out of fights for the next day or two, but apparently, I've been out for a week. Probably missed a lot."
"There have been some wonderful storms," Kym crooned while staring at the globe to her right, hand outstretched and fingers twitching as if aching to caress the monsoon that appeared to be brewing in the mini–Pacific Ocean.
His father continued, "More importantly, Olympus began striking against port cities and oil rigs. Tampa has more or less been wiped off the map, and Savannah has fared little better."
"The surge in pollution has been wreaking havoc in the seas. Many lives, both mer and marine, have been lost," Triton said with a caustic tone that made it clear who he held responsible. "Mother has been doing what she can to interfere and clean the waters, but there is too much waste to fully contain."
"Schist," Percy said eloquently, running a hand through his hair. "What's the plan?"
Triton opened his mouth to deliver a no-doubt scathing reply, but his father spoke first. "Strategy will be discussed later. For now, we must speak on tactics."
Kym's bright blue eyes lit up. "Yes, what exactly did you do to Ares?"
"It was…" Percy hesitated for moment, looking towards Poseidon in silent plea. The only answer he received was an expectant nod. "It was poison."
"How?" asked Triton, mouth gaping. It would have been a funny sight, but the shark teeth ruined it.
Poseidon cut in. "That's not relevant." Saved by the godly bell. "What is important are how your abilities can be used and worked with." Never mind. "How much can you summon, and how quickly?"
"I'm not exactly sure," Percy said, awkwardly sticking his hand in his pocket. "I haven't tried since- in a while. Really just the once. The leyline helped a lot, and last night was the first time I've wielded misery."
Kym smiled a cheshire grin that sent a shiver down Percy's spine. He wasn't sure whether she wanted to toss him off a cliff just to watch him fall, dissect him to see the color of his organs, or lock him up like a xiphos in an armory. "Misery?" she asked softly. "My, my, I'm so glad I didn't kill you."
Reactions to this statement varied; Poseidon was furious while Triton's face was screwed up in a strange mix of disappointment and betrayal. A particularly loud crash of thunder drew their attention to a point on the second globe.
"And there goes Norfolk Harbor," his father said. "If you lack experience with your abilities, then we shall have to remedy that. Triton, Kymopoleia, meet Percy in the training grounds tomorrow morning," he continued, a note of dismissal obvious in his tone.
They bowed shallowly before turning and swimming out of the war room, leaving only Percy and his father. There was silence for a moment, only broken by the small lightning strikes on the halved globes.
"When you said the cities were 'wiped off the map', what did you mean?" Percy asked in spite of the dread he felt.
"I mean that they have been razed to the ground. They lay in ruins; they belong more to Hades than they do me for the time being."
The thought of the countless mortals dead for the war fought in his name made him want to vomit. The half-blood bit back a sharp retort at his father's calm reply, but he welcomed the sting of guilt and held it close to his heart. He deserved it.
"Now that we have a foothold deep in the heart of the mainland, protected by the seed of Ouranos," Percy grimaced at his father's phrasing, "Zeus has gone on the offensive. He cannot assault Atlantis directly, not yet, but I can feel the attacks on my domains clearly. We must respond, but we haven't the means to take Olympus."
"So, what's the plan?" Percy asked again. Anything to end this as soon as possible.
Poseidon eyed him consideringly before gesturing for him to approach. "Answer me this: you are in a fight and have dueled your opponent to a standstill. What do you do?"
"Normally I would do something really reckless and hope it works, but I'm guessing that's not the answer." Poseidon tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Then I'd try to trick them; failing that, I'd make a tactical retreat to get some back-up."
"Exactly," his father said with a smile. There was a cruel, hungry edge to it that Percy didn't like. "We must lay a trap, but before that, we need allies, and that's where you come in."
The demigod's eyebrows shot up skeptically. "I mean, I'm definitely willing to help, but diplomacy isn't exactly my specialty."
"You do seem to antagonize gods with greater frequency than is wise," Poseidon mused. "Fortunately, I have some candidates in mind that are likely to be positively disposed towards you. You remember the minor gods that turned when dear old dad rose?"
"Morpheus and Hecate put New York City to sleep, and Janus I met in the labyrinth. Nemesis too, but that's all I know."
"Yes, but so did Enyo, though her Roman form Bellona stayed loyal. Eris and Zelus as well; the goddess of discord was hardly trustworthy in the first place, and the rivalry between Titan and god was too much for Zelus to resist. There were half a dozen others, we'll discuss those later," his father said. "All of them, though, were pardoned by a single demigod's wish."
Percy could see where this was going. He didn't like it. "And you want me to convince them to rebel again?"
"Just so," answered Poseidon. "I doubt Iris can be swayed, so I thought to start with Hecate. You'll need to meet her in person, but she would be capable of establishing lines of communication between our forces once more. Relying on gods to serve as messengers is hardly sustainable. I understand you two are acquainted with each other?"
"Yeah, we met at the Doors of Death," Percy said with a mild twitch.
"Excellent. She currently resides in New Orleans. You'll be given the address as well as a series of lessons over the next few days in conjunction with your training." He tried not to groan, but judging by his father's smirk, he hadn't managed to hide his feelings. "While I expect you'll be given much leeway, it would be best to at least have some knowledge of proper protocol. This is a war, not a quest."
The statement sobered Percy up instantly. He needed this done with. His conscience was stained with enough blood. "I get it."
"Excellent," Poseidon said, resting his hand upon his son's shoulder. "I'm proud of you. Never forget that. Now rest," his father praised and commanded. "The storm may stretch to the horizon, but do not lose hope: it is not without end."
He nodded and obeyed, turning to float away while his dad's approval settled on him. A part of him was glad for the recognition after a fatherless youth, but a greater part of him trembled beneath the weight of the Sea-King's pride. It felt like angry waves and cruel storms and heartless earthquakes; lifeless cities and lost loved ones; sweet poison and bitter misery and looming death covering his eyes with drachmas in a final act of kindness.
Not that he deserved it.