I'm back! (kind of) updates will progress slowly but surely!
Listening to: Dance Again by NEFFEX
"The Mnemosyne?" Sally berated her firstborn.
Nico nodded voraciously. "He'd totally planned it!"
Percy shot him a glare. Rachel and Kimmy sat back, observing the scene. Harry was just glad nobody was accusing him of breaking into Camp Jupiter.
"Mom!" Percy complained. "It was either hug the piercing guy or take a quick dip. Sciron and I were fine."
"Neither of you absorbed any water?" Sally demanded. "Or swallowed it? Or even breathed the air?!"
"We didn't," Percy assured her. "Trust me. I have no desire to know what I was up to in my previous lives. Neither does Sciron, seeing as how he spent 2000 years in the Fields of Punishment."
Harry kicked Percy's leg. "You better hope he doesn't remember anything."
"I do!"
Sirius and Remus sat at the kitchen table, observing the conversation.
"So this hasn't changed," Sirius whispered. "The kids are still up to batshit stuff."
"Yes," Remus said, sotto voce. "Except now, it's gotten worse."
Rachel helped herself to a chair beside Sirius. She placed the baby on the table, facing the man.
Sirius sat back, worried. "Er, Rachel?"
"You're not gonna say hello to your daughter?" Rachel asked. She wriggled a finger into Kimmy's belly and the baby laughed aloud, eyes shining with mirth.
Sirius looked terrified.
"Just hold her," Remus coaxed him. "And support her neck."
It took him a few moments to comply.
The baby watched her father closely, probably unsure of what to make of this strange, bedraggled man holding her. Her dark brown eyes seemed almost blackish in the light of the kitchen. She shifted her gaze to Remus, more familiar with him than the worried man.
Kimmy clenched her little fists, opened her mouth, and shrieked.
Everyone jumped.
"What?!" Sirius exclaimed. "What did I do? Did I hurt her?"
"I don't think so," Sally said, frowning.
"She likes to make sounds," Rachel explained, leaning in to observe the baby. Nico, Harry, and Percy also peered at their sister to assess if she was alright.
Kimmy liked the sudden attention. She shrieked again.
"She likes you," Percy assured Sirius. "This is her way of saying it."
"Oh," Sirius said, weakly. "Yes. I like you too, Kimberly."
Kimmy cackled in delight.
Rachel hit upon an idea in the middle of the night.
She woke up and began painting. It felt good to flex her hands. She hadn't drawn much since Bolt's passing (and her own).
Dawn arrived, and she was nearly done. She grabbed her canvas and rushed down the stairs.
Nico had left for camp, but Harry and Percy were in the kitchen, trying to outdo each other in the fine art of pancake mixing.
"I had an idea last night," Rachel announced, waving the board hard enough to create a proper draft. Flour flew about, and both boys had to step out of the plumes, sporting powdery white hair.
"Thanks, Rach. We needed that," Harry said.
"Look!" she crowed.
They frowned at her painting. It was a full-length art piece of three robed women with their faces partially covered. The one in the middle held a clay jar. The woman on the left had a tall staff. The third one held a plate… or a lid with a leather harness.
The silence continued.
"Aw, jeez. Don't be so ecstatic," Rachel mumbled.
"Is this a guessing game?" Percy asked. "We gotta figure out who Pandora is?"
"I pick the middle one," Harry announced.
"Yeah, that's kinda obvious—"
"Look," Rachel said impatiently. "I've been reading up on all the divination techniques there are, trying to figure out what works best for me, but then I realised that my drawing is sort of like art therapy. So I let my brush loose and came up with this. It's Pandora and the Clay Masters!"
"Great!" Percy cheered. "So we just need to find three creepy girls in robes!"
"Are they sisters?" Harry asked.
Rachel shrugged. "I'm pretty sure it's just Prometheus and Epimetheus in disguise, flanking her. Like 60% sure. Maybe 50. At least 35, I swear."
"What's with the staff?" Percy wondered, observing the woman on the left.
Rachel placed her canvas down. "All good things, Percy. But Harry's idea of three sisters reminds me of someone we can ask for answers."
Percy reared back. "I'm not reaching out to the Fates. That's a line I refuse to cross! And Medusa won't be too happy to see me."
Harry side-eyed him, "So you do have limits?"
"Chill, I'm not talking about the Fates or the gorgons," Rachel said, snatching up a gold coin from her table. "Let's catch a cab."
They stood outside Sally's apartment as Rachel flipped her drachma.
"Where's the furthest place from here?" she asked. "Like, within the Tri-State area?"
Percy smirked. "Camp. Nearly 120 miles. Or we can head further to Montauk Lighthouse at the tip of Long Island Sound."
"Lighthouse sounds good. We can see camp any old time," Rachel decided.
Then she proclaimed, "Stêthi! Ô hárma diabolês!"
Harry was impressed. Percy said, "You've been working on the accent."
Rachel preened and tossed the drachma onto the road.
The ground beneath the drachma bubbled and boiled, turning into tar and then into something like blood. It smelled awful. As awful as the smoky cab that materialised out of the tarry blood.
"Passage!" one of the drivers shouted. She was grey-tinged like the cab, with scraggly hair falling over her eye sockets.
"Montauk Lighthouse," Rachel said pleasantly. "And we have a question to ask."
"Oooh, let me guess!" the middle sister yelled. "It's a question about Pandora?!"
The sisters cackled.
"Yes," Rachel said firmly and entered the cab. Harry and Percy shared a smile and followed her. Apparently, she was in charge this chapter.
"They always think they can figure it out, don't they?" one of the sisters laughed.
"Buckle up, kiddos!" the one in the driver's seat cried out. "We're not liable for any damages if you don't wear your seatbelts!"
They shot off to the east. Percy and Rachel grabbed the overhead handles for support. In the middle, Harry planted his feet, gripped the leather of the seat, and enjoyed the ride.
"Oof!" Rachel mumbled, as the cab swerved to overtake a soccer mom six-wheeler and jumped the median. They landed on the other side of the highway, their heads bumping against the strangely corporeal smoky-made ceiling, and flew over the road at 300 mph.
"We'll reach camp in a few minutes," Percy warned and Rachel nodded urgently.
"I wanted to ask!" she yelled over the chaos of the cab. "Why can't anyone dream or have visions about Pandora's identity?"
"I want the coin, Anger!" one of the women yelled.
"No way, Wasp! You already have the tooth!"
"It's so I can bite it, obviously!"
"Ladies," Rachel rapped the back of the driver's seat with her knuckles. "This is important."
"Lady Styx won't allow it!" the woman called Anger complained. "Something about lies and broken oaths!"
Percy frowned. "Who's lies?"
"Who's do you think, boy?!"
"I don't know, that's why I'm askin'!"
"The king's!" all three sisters roared. "Too many oaths broken! One lie tipped it over the edge! Styx is not happy. Not one bit!"
Even Rachel didn't know what to say to that.
"So Pandora being free is Zeus's punishment?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"No, him being imprisoned is his punishment," Tempest snapped. "Wasp, you tell them about the prophecy and I'll take the wheel."
"Sure," Wasp huffed and pushed the steering wheel laterally to the middle of the car. Tempest took control and Wasp turned around to face the gawking teens with no eyes, no teeth, and no coin.
"Zeus respected the Styx, you see," Wasp explained, her ageing face drooping. "He announced that oaths on her river are binding. To seal the deal, he gave her some lightning."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Hell of a gift."
"Oh, yes!" Anger giggled. "That's why you hear thunder when you swear on the river. Zeus's power holds your promise to the river."
"This must have started thousands of years ago," Rachel said. "Even before Pandora, right?"
"Right!" Wasp said. "And for a while, things went well. Then Zeus ate his pregnant wife."
"Metis," Percy realised.
"Bad luck to attack expecting mothers," Wasp tutted. "Lady Styx did not like that. But it didn't stop there. Zeus married Hera and then cheated on her once."
"Once?" Rachel, Percy, and Harry blurted.
"Well, you start with one, then two, then three, then four, then—"
"We get it," Rachel said quickly. "So every time Zeus cheated on Hera and broke other oaths, it pissed off the Styx."
"Oh, yes," Wasp cackled. "He was building his own pyre, so to speak. His lie will be his downfall."
The three leaned forwards. "What lie?"
"WE'RE HERE!" Anger and Tempest shrieked.
The cab, that had been jostling them all the while, finally came to a thundering stop at the dead-end. The Atlantic Ocean spread out in front of them. They had already crossed the road to camp and gone on straight ahead, reaching Montauk Lighthouse in record time.
"Wait, what lie?" Rachel asked frantically. "Who did he lie to?"
"Check with your step-grandfather!" Wasp announced, turning away from them. "Out, out, out!"
The cab lurched sideways, depositing the three of them on the road in a heap of disgruntled groaning. The Grey Sisters and their cab disappeared into bubbling crimson tar.
"We can call them back for another ride," Harry groused, searching his pockets for more drachmae.
"Wait, they said to check with our step-grandfather," Percy recalled. "Um… any idea who?"
Rachel shrugged. Harry got to his feet. "Neither of our grandparents remarried. I'm pretty sure."
"They must have been talking about you," Rachel figured, nodding towards Percy.
"It's for my sanity that I don't keep track of my family tree," Percy said with a scowl. "I probably have dozens of them."
Rachel squinted. "Great! I really thought the cabbies would help. And I didn't get to ask them about my painting either."
The trio peered around the place. It was a relatively quiet corner of the world, especially after the jaw-rattling cab drive from death. The sight was a pretty one with an old, tall lighthouse towering over them. The smell could have been better. Old brine remained pungent, like a pile of fish had decayed in the sun.
Rachel placed her hands on her hips and groaned. So much for her plan!
"It's fine," Harry assured her. "We got some things. The Grey Sisters think Zeus is going to die. His broken oaths to the Styx must have been piling on for a while."
"But the lie? We should find out about that," Rachel insisted.
"I've smelled this before," Percy said.
Often one to veer away from the conversation, Rachel tried to be patient with Percy. He usually didn't do this unless it was important.
"What? The ocean?" Harry rolled his eyes.
"Don't you smell it?" Percy asked, walking towards the shore.
Rachel sniffed delicately and cringed. The odour grew stronger the more she thought about it. It reminded her of something specific. But she couldn't recall at the moment.
"Whoa," Percy whispered.
"What?" Harry and Rachel sprinted, but Percy held out both arms to stop them in the sands.
There was an old, portly man behind the lighthouse. He was sunbathing in a bathrobe and swimming trunks. He lay on a lawn chair, asleep under a straw hat that fluttered in the sea-tinged wind.
"That," Percy whispered triumphantly, "is my stepmother's father."
Aside from the oracle, other creatures in the world had the propensity to possess obscure information, just the kind heroes needed.
However, Old Nereus hated heroes.
But Rachel wasn't a hero. (Neither were Harry and Percy, but she needed to be the one to ask him her question.) She wasn't going to wrestle him into submission. No, Rachel was going to be nice to him.
The boys hid behind the lighthouse, and Rachel strolled up to the slumbering god.
"Good morning, Lord Nereus," she spoke evenly.
The god groaned, rolled over, and sat up. Rachel bowed, holding her breath against the stench that wafted over to her. Holy crap, how did Percy wrestle this guy?
"You and your friends can skeddadle," Nereus grumbled. "I'm not answering anything today!"
"That's okay," Rachel said. "I can come back tomorrow."
"No! I'm busy!"
"For how long?"
"A century!"
"None of us have a century to while away, my lord," Rachel pointed out. "Not even you."
Nereus mumbled something under his breath.
"I spoke to the Grey Sisters," Rachel said carefully.
The god glowered. "Then they would have said it! Why are you here?"
"They mentioned you."
The god shook his head. "I do not know the answer you seek. Pandora eludes us all."
"That's not my question though," Rachel said. She clasped her hands by her gut, standing as primly and proper as she could. Surely, no one would confuse her for a demigod now.
Nereus frowned. "What is your question?"
That was her opening.
Rachel swallowed down her smile. "What was Zeus's lie that turned the Styx against him?"
Nereus blinked. Then he chuckled, showing off her greenish teeth. "My dear girl, that is about Pandora!"
"I didn't know."
"Clearly! I was there, you know, when he lied to her," Nereus said, leaning back on his lawnchair. "It was her wedding day. The king gave her the pithos. He blessed her, said all would be right as rain, that her marriage with Epimetheus would be the happiest she would ever be."
Nereus met Rachel's gaze. "Pandora cursed him for it. Just before he sent her to the abyss, she whispered something in his ear. Do not ask me what. No one aside from the king knows. But her words shook him."
Rachel breathed out, hoping she didn't shudder.
"Zeus blessed her knowing that he was dooming them all," she iterated. "And the Styx didn't like that."
"Not one bit," Nereus said. He placed his sun hat over his eyes and relaxed. "I suppose even kings have their limits. Especially since Pandora spent the next seven thousand years with her husband down in the pit. Suffice it to say, her marriage with Epimetheus was not the happiest she was."
Rachel wanted to ask more. She had questions about her painting, Janet Kassidy, the Clay Masters…
"Can I come back tomorrow?" she asked.
Nereus grumbled. "If you find me, I'll answer your question. One per visit, oracle."
If Annabeth knew one thing, it was that her mother always had a plan.
And now it seemed the goddess had a contingency for the aftermath of the apocalypse. When Annabeth stormed Olympus, she came across Poseidon who was leaving the throne room.
She stopped. "My lord?"
Poseidon paused with a sigh. He was in his loud Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, the universal sign of a white flag. Annabeth was a little taken aback. She'd only seen deities in robes or armor when they were in the throne room. Or was that a rule imposed by Zeus that they were no longer following?
"Yes, Chase?" Poseidon said pointedly.
"You're up here," she murmured, holding her laptop close. "It is not the solstice yet, my lord."
Poseidon smirked. "I do visit occasionally, hero. For work or pleasure, I need to be here once in a while."
"Right," Annabeth said. She was trying to figure out how to ask him when Poseidon posed the question himself, "How are you faring with the new knowledge?"
"Knowledge?"
"Of being a companion to your mother, should she win the post-apocalyptic fight," Poseidon spoke. His expression didn't give anything away.
Annabeth stared. "I… I suppose I'm… unsure."
Poseidon chuckled under his breath. "The Dare girl is your friend, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then it certainly won't be easy. Best cross our fingers and hope it doesn't come to that. Tah!"
He waved once, continuing his way down to the elevator. Annabeth watched him leave. Hope, Poseidon had said. She was starting to think everyone was hinging their bets on the lonely spirit in a bygone jar.
Annabeth knocked on the gigantic doors.
"Come in," her mother's distracted voice announced.
She wandered into the room, surveying the place. It was always way too big for Annabeth's head to absorb. The ceilings were high as the sky and the edges of the room stretched far beyond what she could see. But from the corner of her eyes, she could understand there was an end to it… somewhere.
To the side lay an enormous pool bordered by seaweed and gentle plants of the deep that the Ophiotaurus happily munched on.
"Mother," Annabeth said, peering up at the only other being in the hall.
Athena was frowning, head turned back to gauge Zeus's throne. It was completely rusted, bits of dark flakes peeling from the surface and clattering to the ground around it. In contrast, the other thrones glittered with immense power, especially Hera's, whose energy seemed to thrive even without her in the hall.
"Annabeth," the goddess greeted her without even looking at her. Her eyes lay far away, consumed by a hundred ideas.
"You were speaking to the god of the seas?"
Athena blinked, regaining control. "Yes. We had a conversation."
"What did you talk about?" the demigod pressed.
Athena faced her. "Why are you here, Annabeth? It's past the time you should be at camp."
"What did you talk about with Mrs. Dare?" Annabeth asked instead.
"You haven't answered my question."
"You didn't answer two of mine. I'm winning."
She wasn't amused, but Annabeth was tired of not knowing enough. Sally had to strong-arm Cassandra into making a deal to help the heroes. Would Athena help only if someone did the same to her?
"Go back to camp," she told her daughter. "The queen plans to enforce a curfew on the kingdom."
Annabeth made a face. "Gods have a curfew? It's the afternoon!"
"Annabeth."
"I'll leave if you answer either of my questions," Annabeth blurted.
Athena narrowed her eyes. "And why should I bother?"
"Because you chose me as one of your companions should we lose the war," Annabeth reminded her heatedly. "That means you believe we are gonna lose and that I have a say in what you decide!"
"Wrong on both accounts," the goddess said, scowling. "Losing the war is one of the greater probabilities. But not one I believe in. Additionally, you do not have a say in my decisions."
"But Lord Poseidon does?" Annabeth said, thinking fast. "Was he speaking on behalf of his heir? Did you ask him for his son's arm in marriage?"
Athena glowered. "Still your tongue, child. Do not speak of things you don't know."
Annabeth stood her ground. "Percy mentioned that he saw you and Lord Triton getting along."
The only card Annabeth had to play was that Athena had already submitted Annabeth's name to Mrs. Dare… so she wouldn't kill her now, right?
"Go," Athena said pointedly.
"Just tell me what you and Mrs. Dare discussed," Annabeth wheedled. "Mother, we're all floundering here and nobody's giving us straight answers. Don't… don't repeat the same mistakes from last time! We won against the Titans, not because you withheld things from us, but despite it! Mom, you can do things better. Both camps are ready to try something more. We just need the gods to do the same!"
Yeah, she's probably going to get a little smote. Where's the immortality bracelet when you need it?
Athena was not pleased. But she also didn't strike Annabeth down.
"Walk with me," she said and marched out of the throne room. Annabeth had to jog to keep up with her mother's ten-foot form.
Without the overpowering sensation from the multiple thrones, Annabeth felt like she could breath easier.
"Pandora's business is wrapped up beyond the Fates," Athena explained quietly. "The reason why none of your Seers and Oracles can give you answers about her is because the Fates have removed themselves from the equation."
Annabeth nearly tripped over the smooth tiles.
"What?! Why? Can they even do that?!"
"Hush!" Athena hissed, surveying their surroundings. Nobody was around, but she was not at ease. "It started with his lie, I suppose."
"Who…?"
"My father!" the goddess snapped. "When the king lied to Pandora, the river Styx found it inexcusable. He lied to her saying that his gift was truly generous. But as you know, the jar was anything but."
Annabeth exhaled, still keeping up the pace. "Okay, so the king broke a thousand oaths on the Styx and did some horrible things over the eons… but the Styx took offense to his lie?"
"She probably wasn't the only one," Athena admitted. "Many deities heard the lie. I suppose we were all quite stunned by it. It was reprehensible enough to trick the Clay Masters. But the only mortal we created should have been under our protection. We abandoned her."
Athena slowed to a stop. Annabeth paused too, panting quietly. Her mother sounded genuinely regretful. She was using 'we'.
"The Styx isn't to be underestimated," Athena told her. "When the river goddess appealed to the Fates for retribution, it seems that they stepped away and let higher powers decide."
Who was greater than the Morai? Annabeth wondered deliriously.
Athena almost smiled. "I would think they asked an Elder Primordial to weigh in."
Annabeth's mind raced. Nyx? Was that why she gave the immortality bracelets in the first place? Maybe Percy, Rachel, and Harry were supposed to ensure Zeus faced appropriate punishment.
"Why would the Fates step aside for this?" Annabeth asked.
"He's their father," Athena reminded her drolly. "Not even the Morai are above exemption from anything resembling patricide."
Oooooooooooh.
"That's why none of us can dream about Pandora," Annabeth sighed. "Or come up with a vision about her. But… there are dreamers. And Rachel gave the Great Prophecy. It involves Pandora."
"However, you won't find direct answers to who Pandora will be born as," Athena said.
The pair began to walk again, reaching the steps down to the elevator. Annabeth had already blocked a good chunk of it to turn them into a gentle ramp. So she and Athena were walking quite close, side-by-side.
Athena pressed the button for the elevator. The doors opened and Annabeth got in, but her mother stayed out.
"What about your conversation with Rachel's Mom?" Annabeth asked, before the doors closed.
Athena frowned. "I would rather not say that to you, Annabeth. It would not do well for Rachel to learn as well."
The doors closed and Annabeth leaned against the wall, squeezing her eyes closed. That was more than what she'd been expecting, but her mother could have given clearer directions about Pandora.
With any luck, the others would find Dudley soon. And with some hope, they'd find Metis's necklace as well.
Hand stretched out. Crops regaining life. Soil growing fertile. And soft brown eyes catching Sciron's.
Sky woke up, unnerved.
He'd had nightmares strong enough to catapult him out of his sleep before. This was the first time he'd woken up from an odd dream with no obvious danger.
Sky tried to recall what he saw. Someone had been revitalising the crops around the village. It had been a hard summer with little to show for it. The people were worried the gods were angry at them. But the village deity blessed the chief's youngest son to save them all.
Sky frowned. Cassandra and Iphigenia had raised him in Juneau, Alaska, just outside town. He'd never been to a village before. Whose dream was this?
Image:
Pandora and the Claymasters - cabbakansas/767490198608265216/pandora-and-the-claymasters?source=share
Art by olivia_rose63 on X.
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