His Return

23. The Golden Blade

Just when her hand was about to connect with his cheek, Percy grabbed her wrist and squeezed it with intensity similar to a python squeezing the breath out its victim.

"Let go, Percy." She tried to pull away but his grip only became tighter. Her entire arm began to grow pale from the lack of blood flow, and her veins stood on end as if ready to burst from all the pressure. She yelped and shrieked when it became more than she could bare. "Percy, please... you're hurting me."

Percy raised his eyebrow, incredulous. "But your intent was to hurt me, wasn't it?" He smiled and leaned in, and for one rousing moment, Annabeth thought that he was going to kiss her. But that never happened.

Percy lips were no less than three millimeters away from hers, and their noses touched. The lack of space made it impossible for Annabeth to not look into those features of his that still daunted her. "Don't start fights you can't finish, baby."

Annabeth watched as dark clouds emerged from the ground and consumed his body. And with no trace that he was ever there, Percy was gone.

««•••»»

'The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step'

Camp Half Blood
Long Island, USA
The Next Morning

***

The campers hauled the final few crates of armor and weapons into the trunks of the black suburbans that lined the street in front Half Blood Hill.

It'd been a very busy morning, and 7:30 hadn't even been crossed yet. They'd been instructed to wake and have breakfast at an earlier point than usual in preparation for the long journey ahead. Needless to say that they didn't be need to be told twice.

When Perseus came through the barrier, he had an assault rifle in his right hand and a Glock strapped to his calf. His tattoos showed through the thin white tank top he wore tucked into his black military fashioned pants. He looked pissed— at who? They honestly didn't know.

Annabeth was nowhere to be seen, which was worrisome because she was never late, no matter the circumstances.

Perseus had begun to walk down the hill when a hand clasped him on the collar, stopping him before he could move any farther.

It was a reflex more than anything else, but Perseus flipped the person over his shoulder and dug his fingernails into their throat.

Chiron looked straight back at him, the centaur's neck trickling with blood from the flesh Percy had punctured.

"Perseus, my boy. You need to relax."

Percy raised an eyebrow, but released his hold on him. He offered Chiron a hand to help him to his hindquarters, and the mentor accepted it gratefully.

The two men stood and looked at each other, saying absolutely nothing as the air filled with more tension. Thankfully, it was Chiron that'd broken the silence.

"Thank you, Perseus."

Percy looked surprised for a second, but that had gone as quickly as it'd come. "For what?"

The centaur smiled, and Percy suddenly found himself reminiscent of the first time they'd been in this situation. Thirteen years prior when he'd been assigned a quest to retrieve Zeus's bolt from Hades. That quest had started just the same as this had— with the two standing on this very hill as Percy set himself to leave.