Wild Heart ⋆ Riordanverse¹

iii. powerless

iii. powerless

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THEY HAVE BEEN TRAVELLING FOR TWO DAYS, BOTH OF WHICH THEA ISN'T SURE HOW TO FEEL ABOUT. It's nice to have company, but at the same time, it irks her. It's been so long since she's spent time with people for longer than an hour or two. She's found out she isn't too great at holding a conversation. Or comforting people after nightmares. Or accepting comfort after nightmares.

She has dreams every night, though she guesses they might be nightmares, too. Each time, it's something she hasn't dreamed of before. A man with his back turned to her, frail and hunched over, his spine poking out like a landmine in the darkness. He never says anything, but somehow, that's more terrifying than if he did. It's as if horror movie music is playing in her brain, building and building, a great sense of power and evil seeping into her bones, right up until he says two words: "Free me." His voice always wakes her up with her still reeling from his voice. It's unbearably callous, like a car driving over a gravel road.

Thea's glad she isn't the only one having cryptic nightmares, because Percy jolts softly awake and mumbles a small 'I won't help you.' She wonders if he has the same dream as her, but she doubts it. Or maybe he does, but she'll never ask.

"So," Annabeth says. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said 'I won't help you' in your sleep, idiot," Thea says, her ball cap laid over her face. They let out a small gasp. Apparently, they had thought she was sleeping like Grover.

Percy huffs, but explains anyway. He had a dream about a pit—which makes both her and Annabeth tense in horror—and a chilling voice inside telling him to help him rise, that they laughed so sinisterly it always woke him, and that they said they would trade his mother if he did. Thea doesn't want to think about what it means, but she knows.

"That doesn't sound like Hades," Annabeth says. "He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

Thea nods in agreement and sits up from her slouched position. "Yeah. I've had my fair share of dreams with him. He's always on a throne, always."

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else would do that?"

"I guess . . . if he meant 'help me rise from the Underworld,'" Annabeth says. "If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring the masterbolt if he already has it?"

Because he doesn't, Thea thinks sarcastically. Hades wouldn't steal the masterbolt, that's not important enough. And what would he even do with it, anyway?

They're silent. Grover turns in his sleep, which moves his hat to show the tip of his small horn. Thea tugs it back down.

"Percy, you can't barter with Hades," Annabeth says. "You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don't care if the Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time--"

"Dude," Thea hisses, "watch it. Just because your mom is an Olympian doesn't mean you're untouchable."

The girl scoffs, and Thea suspects she has a reason to hate the Lord of the Dead. "You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom, Percy."

"What would you do if it was your dad?"

"That's easy," she says. "I'd leave him to rot."

Thea's eyes widen.

"You can't be serious?" Percy asks.

Annabeth fixes her eyes on him as if he's a monster she needs to kill. "My dad's resented me since the day I was born," she says. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent."