“You have one chance to wake each of them up. A certain trigger, whether it be a word, touch, or anything else, will release them from their sleep. If the trigger is not guessed, the said sleeper will continue to slumber until the world ends.”
The man paced the room.
“That’s a genius plan, Arnold, but how do you know what the triggers are? And why did you pick me?” Annabeth figured the best plan was to stall the wizard until Frank could save her. “also, why aren’t you wearing a pointy hat?” This had been something Annabeth had wanted to ask since Chiron had announced the quest.
“Bah! Those things bring out the evil in my eyes. I much prefer bowler hats, don’t you?” asked Arnold. Annabeth imagined Leo writhing in pain as she made small-talk. She hoped puppies could run fast.
“Sure. But you’re avoiding the question.” Annabeth wished she had her knife. Maybe she could’ve somehow threatened the man or loosened the rope holding her to the chair, but that was out of the question now. She was tied up tightly with rope by a wizard. Even if she’d had a knife, it couldn’t defeat magic. Her thoughts reminded her of a game she’d played when she was little. What was it called. Giants, Elves, and Wizards. Giants squished elves, elves outwitted wizards, and wizards laid spells on giants in the crazy game of luck. It had always gotten pretty intense at Camp Half-Blood. One time, an Aphrodite camper had gotten a grass-stain on their skirt after being pushed by a Hephaestus kid, and an all-out brawl had ensued. But Annabeth couldn’t defeat an elf or a giant, let alone a wizard in her current situation. She just had to wait. Sometimes that was harder than actually fighting.
“I don’t know the triggers. That’s the fun of the game! All my other witchy friends just love games like this. You should know this before going to Hogwarts. They have a friendly school-wide game of Russian Roulette every year! You like it, don’t you?” said Arnold. He stopped in front of Annabeth uncomfortably close and gazed at her. “you’re pretty. That’s why I chose you. I like beautiful people, don’t you?” Annabeth didn’t feel the need to answer Arnold’s question.
“Tut, tut, tut,” said Arnold, raking his hands through his close-cropped fair hair. “uncooperative, are we? I believe in cooperation, don’t you?”
“Maybe cooperating to let me go,” replied Annabeth. There was something extremely off about Arnold (besides the fact that he was kidnapping teenagers), what with the way he kept asking Annabeth “don’t you?”
“Ah, but no. Now, it’s time to stop stalling. Who would you like to start with?” A wave of nausea roiled around in her stomach at the mention of the sick game. Maybe if she got Percy up first, he could-
“Fine. If you insist, I’ll pick.” Arnold held up his wand.
“Wait, no! I want-” but Arnold was already swishing his wand. Suddenly, a large body collapsed on top of her.
“Oops, sorry.” Arnold kicked the body onto the ground. Annabeth looked down at the limp body of Travis Stoll.
This was going to be harder than she thought.
YOU ARE READING
A Tale of Gods and Magic
FanfictionThe Seven are expecting another year of school after Camp Half-Blood ends. But they, Nico, the Stolls and another very sunny demigod are summoned to a mysterious school of magic in England. The story is mostly told from Annabeth's POV with a few gu...
