Chapter Seventeen:
Fighting the Dumb War God.
— Boys workin' on empty, is that the kind of way to face the burning heat ?
Too much had happened.
In such a short amount of time, from the start of the quest to that moment, too much had happened for it to all be explained in one sitting. One moment, the quartet was in the Underworld, ready to negotiate with the Lord of the Dead, and the next, they were on a boat after being picked up by the Coast Guard. Unfortunately, they were too busy to keep the quartet for long, or to wonder how four kids in street clothes ended up in the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls. The Coast Guard dropped the group off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around their shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people. Annabeth Chase hated that her clothes were sopping wet, her friends' were too, even Percy's and Colette's. She supposed it was because they didn't want the authorities to catch on to their abilities, a smart idea on their end. Percy had gone barefoot, offering his shoes to Grover. It was better for the Coast Guard to question why one of them was barefoot rather than why one of them had hooves.
After reaching dry land, the four stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. It must've been Lettie's dad trying to calm her down, Annabeth thought grimly, otherwise the colors painting the sky would've been duller. She felt gross, as if she'd just come back from the dirt — which, she guessed she had. She noticed the way Percy walked with a visible hunch in his shoulders, his backpack must've been weighing him down, especially after learning what was in it. His eyes were downcast, the way they had been since he'd seen his mother, and, despite her raging jealousy, she felt a sliver of sympathy.
"I don't believe it," Annabeth breathed out. "We went all that way—"
"—it was a trick," Percy spat. "A strategy worthy of Athena."
"Hey," she warned, eyes narrowed — a look her best friend was mimicking.
"You get it, don't you?"
Her eyes dropped, anger fading from them. "Yeah. I get it."
"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"
"Percy," Annabeth gave him a look of pity, feeling empathy. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry." If he heard her, he didn't make it known, and it made her feel worse. A hand squeezed hers, she followed the tanned arm up to her best friend's comforting eyes, and felt better. She hadn't noticed that Colette's other arm had taken Percy's as well.
The only person that seemed calm enough — even if it wasn't real — to answer Grover was Colette. "The prophecy has been completely right thus far," she took the satyr's sole attention. "'You shall go West and face the god who has turned,' the Delphi said. Only it wasn't the Lord of the Dead that was mentioned. He doesn't want war amongst his brothers, he doesn't need it. Someone else stole both objects and framed Percy because he'd just been claimed by the Earthshaker, therefore aiming the blame at Sea God. As my father goes to rest, there will be a war from all three sides, and it'll seem as though Percy caused it."
Annabeth was always so enthralled by the way her best friend spoke. The way the blonde managed to string the words together so perfectly was always so breathtaking. She'd yet to notice that she wasn't the only one to come to that conclusion then.
Grover ignored the rivals, shaking his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"
Colette's eyes seemed to harden, flashing gold in a way that startled her three companions. Annabeth had to swallow thickly, watching as Percy clenched his shaking hands, and Grover bleated at the sight of them. "Ares," she hissed, looking down at the beach. The other three snapped their heads around to see the god.
