"Well, well," Ares grinned, all teeth. "You were supposed to die, punk."

Percy sneered. He had a lot of things he wanted to say. Things that might make his mother drop down from Olympus just to smack him for his language. But no words felt worth wasting on him.

Annabeth clenched her jaw. "You tricked us. You had someone steal the Helm of Darkness and then use it to take the master bolt."

Ares tilted his head, mockingly curious.

"Who did you use?" Percy demanded. He was already furious, but the thought of Ares manipulating one of his own kids made his stomach turn. "Was it one of your children?"

"Oh, come on. Does it matter at this point? See, here's how it was supposed to go. You die in the Underworld. Then Uncle Corpse Breath gets the bolt. Dear old Dad and Uncle Seaweed get mad at him. Then Hades gets mad because he thinks one of his brothers took this thing," he removed a ski mask from his back pocket and dropped it in the sand. The mask shimmered, transforming until an ornate Greek helmet sat in its place. The Helm of Darkness. "Then, boom. A three way war between the three strongest gods. Would be a glorious sight to behold."

"You want your family to go to war?" Grover asked.

Ares barked out a laugh. "Blood's gotta spill, kid. It's how the world works. What's a war without a little family drama? I wasn't around when dad and his siblings hacked Grandpa to pieces, but now?" He whistled. "This one's gonna be so much better."

Percy's stomach churned. His hands curled into fists. "The backpack," his voice was raw. "You gave us the backpack in the diner."

Ares smirked. "You're quicker than I thought, kid. Not quick enough, but hey, you get points for effort."

"It was there the whole time. You knew."

"Try again."

Percy's breathing was uneven. His hands shook with rage. "It was bound to the bag," he realized. "Like Riptide. It appeared when we got to Hades."

Ares snapped his fingers. "Bingo. Except, unlucky for you, it looks like you lost your sword back in the House of Hades."

Percy patted his pocket, half-expecting to feel the familiar weight of the pen. Nothing. Riptide hadn't come back. The pit had taken it.

Annabeth, ever the strategist, narrowed her eyes. "Why not keep the master bolt for yourself?"

Ares' confidence faltered. For a moment he actually seemed like he didn't know the answer.

Then, too quickly, he rolled his shoulders and shrugged. "Didn't wanna deal with the trouble. Better that someone else get caught with it."

Percy stared. Ares seemed like a lot of things. A blood-hungry brute, namely. Careful and cautious did not fall under that category.

And yet, here he was, admitting that he didn't want the trouble?

A cold realization curled in Percy's gut. "It was the thing from the pit, wasn't it? Did it get to you through your dreams too?"

Ares' smirk vanished. For just a second. His fingers twitched over his sword hilt. His shoulders went rigid.

Then, just as quickly, his expression hardened.

"Gods don't dream, pissant. And nobody tells the god of war how to do his job." He shook his head like he was dusting off the thought. "Look, the problem here isn't some voice from a pit. The problem is you."

His grin returned, sharper than before. "I can't let you get the bolt back to Olympus." He ran his fingers along the edge of his sword. "They might actually listen to you."

"Gods aren't supposed to directly interfere with mortal affairs," Annabeth said.

Ares tilted his head. "Huh. You're right. Good thing I don't care. Dear old dad is the one who enforces all that, and he'll be too busy fighting two fronts to notice. Besides, I simply can't pass up the opportunity to kill the first and last son of Hestia."

Ares drew his weapon. A celestial bronze blade much longer and heavier than any human could wield, though he propped it over his shoulders as if it weighed nothing. A wave of heat flooded the beach as he did, and Percy's anger spiked.

It's just like in the diner, he told himself, He's trying to piss you off. He wants you to get sloppy.

He took in a deep, cleansing breath through his nose, and the rage melted away. Ares narrowed his eyes at the sight.

"Percy," Annabeth said. "Look at me."

Percy turned around, half expecting her to hug him, but instead found himself staring at her pomegranate and a piece of driftwood in her hands.

"Start a fire," she explained, "Grover and I will sacrifice the pomegranate Hades gave us."

Percy sighed. "Guys, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I lost Riptide in the pit. I don't have a weapon."

She dropped the driftwood and drew her dagger from its sheath, holding it towards him hilt first. "Luke gave me this when we met. It's gotten me through a lot of tough times. Maybe it can get you through this one."

He took the dagger, thankful but still unconvinced he could get anywhere close enough to hurt Ares with his four-foot monster of a blade.

"Wear this, too," she untied her necklace, proof that she had survived for five years as a demigod, and the class ring her father had gifted her. She tied it around his neck. "For luck. Two kids of virgin goddesses. What a pair."

"This too!" Grover drew a flattened tin can from his pocket that he'd somehow resisted eating all the way through the Underworld. "The satyrs stand behind you."

A lump welled in Percy's throat. "Thanks, guys."

He snapped his fingers to start a small blaze on the driftwood and turned back to Ares.

"Are you all done saying goodbye yet?" the god groaned.

Annabeth cracked open the pomegranate behind him and dropped a handful of seeds into the flames. "To Percy," she prayed, and a rush of energy flooded through his veins. No explosive discharge this time. He was getting better.

"Cute trick," Ares snickered, "but I'm the god of war. I've been fighting for eternity. I've got unlimited strength and can't die."

"Good thing I wasn't planning on killing you," Percy snapped back. "Just humiliating you."

Ares's face flushed golden and flames began licking at the corners of his eyes. "Big mouth."

"Big ego."

Ares stepped closer and dropped his sword like a sledgehammer, right at Percy's face. It was easy enough to dodge, but the kick to the ribs that followed wasn't. Percy rolled at least twenty feet into a sand dune before stopping, breathless.

"Last chance to die the easy way," Ares offered, though it was clear he was hoping for a denial.

"In your dreams," Percy shot back. He rolled to his feet, willing the bruise forming on his chest to heal itself. "I've been pissing people off for twelve years! No way am I gonna quit now!"

Ares stomped over and unleashed a flurry of slashes and swipes. One for the neck that Percy barely ducked, one for the legs that sliced a hole in his pants, and one for the chest that Percy tried to deflect with the dagger. Sparks flew as the blade plowed past his attempt like a mudslide.

Ares grinned. "Not bad."

"Sword skills don't translate to daggers all that well," Percy huffed, already beginning to feel worn out. He took a desperate dive towards Ares and slashed at his legs. Somehow, it seemed like Ares could predict every move Percy was going to make. Not a single attack landed.

"Percy!" Annabeth's voice rang out as Grover dropped another cluster of seeds into the fire, "Cops!"

Off to the side Percy could barely make out the sight of several police cars sliding to a stop on the sand, though it was hard to focus while a god was trying to skewer him.

"It's that kid. From TV!" one exclaimed.

"Who's that other guy? They're armed?"

Oh, great, Percy thought, Now I'm gonna get shot at too.

Ares kept up his offense, pushing Percy back toward the water. A particularly hard swing caught Percy in the chest with the flat of his blade and dropped him into the sand like a bag of potatoes.

"Drop the weapons!" a cop shouted, and Percy barely registered the sound of Ares thundering, "Begone!" before a wall of flames erupted from the sand. The police barely had time to dive before the vehicles exploded.

"No interfering with mortals," Percy chided.

Something about that set Ares off like nothing else had. His eyes exploded into flames. He moved too fast.

Percy barely had time to breathe before the war god's sword came swinging hard from the side. He tried to dodge, but his body was too slow. The blade cut straight through him.

Time slowed down.

For a split second, Percy felt nothing.

Then, pain.

White-hot and all-consuming. His breath caught in his throat, and his vision darkened.

Annabeth screamed.

Grover shouted something. A prayer? A curse? Percy couldn't tell. The world was fading. Breaking. Ending.

No. No, this isn't it, he thought. This is not where I die.

The fire inside him ignited all at once, spreading through his veins faster than he could register. The pain twisted, then changed. His body didn't break. It burned away.

Ares' sword cut through where he had been, but there was no body to strike. Just embers, swirling in the air, dancing like wildfire. His victorious smirk faded.

Annabeth gasped. "Percy?"

The flames twisted, gathered, reshaped. And then he was back. Not standing where he had been a second ago, but behind Ares. Whole. Alive. He felt his side, where the blade had touched. It was already scarred over.

Smoke curled from his lips as he shakily exhaled and stumbled.

An advantage! He thought to himself just in time for Ares to recover and slash a canyon sized cut into his calf.

"Nice trick," the god rumbled, "Too bad you can't control it!"

As much as Percy hated to admit it, Ares was right. It was surprisingly easy to turn his body into flames to avoid the next few attacks, but it was much harder to control where he went during that time, and that's not even mentioning how exhausting it was to do it a single time. It was a good thing Grover and Annabeth had so many pomegranate seeds to burn or Percy would have collapsed after the first move.

Somehow it seemed like the longer the fight dragged on, the better Ares got. He continued to land more and more hits, even managing to predict where Percy would land a few times.

Ares cackled. "Your little tricks aren't gonna save you, Jackson. You're running on fumes."

"How's this for fumes?!" Percy shouted. He held both hands out and blasted a stream of sticky flames right at the god of war. He pushed as hard as he could to make the flames burn hotter, but by the time he could produce no more, Ares was seemingly unaffected.

He needed something bigger. Something stronger.

No.

He needed something smarter.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of Hydra blood.

Highly toxic, was all Lucky had given him. If it even affected immortals, Percy had no idea, but what other options did he have at this point?

He sidestepped another swipe, assessing his options. No way could he get Ares to drink it. He could poison Annabeth's knife?

"Come on!" Ares hollered, "Is that all you've got?! I had hoped that Hestia's wrath would be something to fear!"

"Hestia doesn't do wrath," Percy said through gritted teeth.

And then it hit him.

Hestia could probably fight if she needed to. She was the eldest sister of Zeus, after all, but that wasn't her style. Her strength had never been in battle. It was in shouldering burdens. Taking the weight off others and making it her own.

But what if she could give those burdens back?

Percy clenched his jaw and popped the lid from the vial.

"What the fuck is that?" Ares growled, but Percy ignored him. He put the bottle to his lips, and knocked back about half of it, and then…

Oh, gods. Oh shit. That was a mistake.

His plan hadn't been smart at all. He had just done the most idiotic thing in the history of the universe.

Instantly his nerves exploded into a searing mess. His vision blurred. His hands began producing short bursts of fire on their own, as if panicking. Trying to burn away the poison. His muscles seized so hard that he was surprised he didn't crush the vial in his fist and spill the remaining blood all over his hand. It wasn't just toxic. He was going to die if he didn't move fast enough.

Ares laughed for a moment. "You're gonna off yourself? Fine by me."

Percy's entire body shook. His veins bulged and bruised an ugly purple. It felt like he was getting a transfusion of molten metal.

Just get your hands on him, he told himself. Don't make Annabeth and Grover watch you kill yourself.

He lunged. A lazy swing from Ares should have cut his torso in half, but as if his body was on autopilot he flashed forward in a burst of flame and wrapped his arms around Ares's neck.

Focus! He screamed at himself as Ares began thrashing, Just do what you did with Annabeth, but in reverse!

Something tingled deep in his stomach, and like water flushing down a drain, the pain began to subside. He slid off Ares's back like a broken backpack and kicked himself away as fast as he could.

Ares slowly turned, and then laughed. A deep, booming laugh that shook the battlefield.

"That was your big move?" he sneered, readying his sword for a killing blow.

Percy could barely breathe. His body felt like it was steaming from the aftershocks of the Hydra blood. Every cell felt like it had been ripped apart and stitched back together with branding irons. He could barely even register the sand that Ares kicked in his face.

"Pathetic," Ares snapped, and then he staggered.

It started off subtle. Shifting his weight. A slight hesitation. His foot dragged through the sand slightly instead of the heavy steps he used before.

He blinked, rolling his shoulders like he'd suddenly woken up stiff. He grimaced for a second before reapplying his snarl.

"Nice trick," he muttered. "Won't work on me."

And then it hit him full force. He sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling again.

He brought a hand to his throat. Like Percy, his veins began to bulge and glow, this time a golden color. The blood of the gods. Ichor.

His breath hitched, and he fell to a knee, sweat pouring from every pore on his body.

Percy rasped out a laugh, barely managing to prop himself onto his elbow. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Ares's head snapped toward him. His grin was gone. His hands clenched into fists, his body tightening as if he was trying to crush the pain through sheer willpower. His blood flickered, trying to burn the poison away. It didn't work.

"You little fucker," he spat.

Percy would have laughed if he could manage it. The god of war, reduced to throwing insults?

"Where's your unlimited strength now?" he airily giggled.

Ares looked down at him. He didn't look pleased, but he wasn't as explosively furious as Percy had expected. "Clever, punk. Real clever."

Percy gave a lopsided smirk. "I'm not done surprising people yet."

Ares let out a slow breath. His fingers flexed on his sword hilt again, like he was deciding whether or not to finish the job.

Then, a presence passed over the beach, like a solar eclipse. Temperature dropped, light faded, and time slowed. For a brief, terrifying moment, Percy felt like everything was hopeless.

Then, the darkness lifted. Ares looked stunned. He shook his head, then took a step back.

"Take care not to cross blades with me again," he warned. "Next time I may not be so lenient."

His body began to glow, like he was going to explode.

"Don't look!" Annabeth cried, and Percy flopped back down into the sand. It was a good thing he didn't end up looking right at Ares, because he had no idea if he would be able to move. Or if he even wanted to, for that matter.

Then came the footsteps. Fast and uneven.

"Percy!" Annabeth dropped to her knees and put an ear to his chest to check for a pulse, eyes wide with panic and relief. Grover followed right after, nearly landing right on top of them both.

"You're alive!" he bleated.

Percy blinked at him. His vision was still blurred and his heartbeat felt weird. "I think so."

"What did you just do?" Annabeth demanded.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that. I did a lot of really stupid things just now."

Annabeth reached into her backpack and pulled out the Ziploc bag of ambrosia that had somehow survived the entire trip, gently feeding a smashed square to Percy. "What did you drink?"

Percy chewed slowly, forcing himself to swallow.

"Oh, that?" He coughed. He held up the half empty vial. "Hydra blood."

Grover made a horrific noise. "You drank-" his voice cracked and rose several octaves. "You drank HYDRA BLOOD?!"

Percy winced. "Did I not tell you I had that?"

"NO!"

"Oh… guess it slipped my mind."

Annabeth's hands were shaking. Her fingers curled around another piece of ambrosia, but she hesitated. Like she wasn't sure if she wanted to help him or choke him to death with it.

Percy sat up, rubbing his head. He didn't regret what he did. It worked. It got Ares to leave.

But once his vision fully returned, and he had to face his friend's teary faces, he instantly felt sick. "I'm sorry. I thought Ares wouldn't expect it-"

Annabeth grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "You weren't thinking at all, you fucking dumbass!"

"Never heard you swear like that, Wise Girl."

"I usually don't! You're a terrible influence!"

"Anyway, I thought it was pretty smart! I knew I could take pain from people, so I thought I would try giving it instead!"

Annabeth's jaw clenched. "That wasn't a plan, that was a gamble."

Percy agreed. "But it worked. Ares wasn't going to stop. I had to do something or I was going to die regardless."

Annabeth stared at him like she wanted to throw him out to sea. She swiped the vial from his hand and capped it before stuffing it in her bag. "I'll dispose of it when we get back to camp. Can't just leave it here for some mortal to find, but I sure as hell don't trust you to carry it with you!"

Percy chuckled. It made everything hurt, but it felt nice to laugh. The end of the quest was almost in sight.

The flapping of leathery wings filled the air. All three furies landed in the sand like bombs. It was strange, Percy thought. For the first time, he didn't think they looked like monsters in disguise. They were undeniably Mrs. Dodds and her sisters, but apart from the bat wings, they looked… normal.

"Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds hummed.

Percy gave her a weak wave. "Hey, Mrs. Dodds… did I pass?"

"Alecto," she corrected him. "But yes, it seems that way."

Grover gingerly handed her the Helm of Darkness, and she seemed to enjoy how much she terrified him.

"I must admit," she flicked her forked tongue, "when I first told you that I expected more, I certainly didn't think you could surpass my expectations so thoroughly. You have done well."

"I will treasure this glowing praise forever."

Alecto gave him a fanged grin, which still freaked him out a little, before taking off into the sky, vanishing among the now pink clouds.

The sun was rising.

"We still need to get to New York by midnight," Percy realized.

"That's impossible without flying," Grover said.

Annabeth rubbed the back of her neck pensively. Then, her eyes lit up. "Maybe not. Ares forgot something."

She pointed to the direction Ares had walked from. His motorcycle remained idling in the sand, growling like a chained beast. The seat was large enough that three kids could probably fit on it.

Percy nodded. "Oh, cool. I can't drive a motorcycle."

Grover perked up immediately. "I can!"

Percy and Annabeth both whipped their heads toward him. "WHAT?!"

"Okay, well, technically I have driven a car once, but it's the same concept!"

Percy rubbed his temples. "That's not the same at all!"

"Do you have any better ideas?!"

Grover hopped on the bike. He put on a brave face, but he gripped the handlebars arguably harder than he had the steering wheel of Gabe's Camaro. Annabeth hopped on after him.

"Come on, Cinder Brain," she patted the spot behind her. "Time's wasting."

Percy shook his head before hopping on and tying his hands around her waist. "I want it on record that if we die, this was not my idea."

Annabeth looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "You're being awfully cautious for someone who just drank Hydra blood."

"I don't have a god swinging a sword at my head anymore!"

Grover revved the throttle and the motorcycle roared to life. The wheels spun like sawblades, kicking up sand as the exhaust pipes spat fire. The machine caught grip, and they vanished down the beach like a cavalry charge.

Olympus was waiting.