ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

xvii.

"Guys, do I turn around," Leo swept a curl away from his face, his eyes flicking around nervously, "Or..."

Nobody answered. Aza spotted the figure on the beach - a dark-haired man in purple robes, who stood with his arms crossed. He stared expectantly at their ship as if he was expecting them, his back rigid. A large bronze sword was sheathed to his side.

Frank inhaled sharply, "Could that be–"

"Heracles," Jason said, "The most powerful demigod of all time."

"I need an answer," Leo said urgently, as the Argo smoothly approached, "I can turn, or we can take off. The stabilizers are working again. But I need to know quick–"

"We have to keep going," Annabeth said. "I think he's guarding these straits. If that's really Heracles, sailing or flying away wouldn't do us any good. He'll want to talk to us."

"Just talk?" Aza said slowly, and her hand wandered to her bronze cuff, "Because – even if all of us had to take him..."

"Won't Heracles be on our side?" Piper asked hopefully. "I mean, he's one of us."

Jason made his way towards Aza, and he stood beside her, "He was a son of Zeus, but when he died, he became a god. You can never be sure with gods."

"Great," Percy said. "Eight of us against Heracles."

"And a satyr!" Gleeson added, "We can take him."

"I've got a better idea," Annabeth said. "We send ambassadors ashore. A small group - one or two at most. Try to talk with him.

Aza glanced at Jason and raised an eyebrow. His jaw clenched for a moment, and he nodded, "I'll go. He's a son of Zeus. I'm the son of Jupiter. Maybe he'll be friendlier with me."

"Or maybe he'll hate you," Percy rolled his eyes, "Half-brothers don't always get along."

Jason scowled, "Thank you, Mr. Optimism."
"It's worth a shot," Annabeth said quickly, her eyes narrowing to ensure that it was clear she was in charge, "At least Jason and Heracles have something in common. And we need our best diplomat. Somebody who's good with words." Aza looked at Piper, and she was unsurprised that the others did, too.

"Fine," Piper deflated after a moment of hesitation, "Just let me change my clothes."

Aza, Percy and Annabeth spread a white-and-red checkered blanket on the deck of the Argo II; Aza had stolen it long ago from Annabeth (who sniffed indignantly when the daughter of Phobos pulled it out of her bag), who had stolen it from Luke, who had, of course, stolen it from the Camp store with Connor and Travis. Percy and Annabeth carted over plates of food from the dining room, and set places for each of them.

Percy sat first, and he piled food on each of their plates - it reminded Aza of Aphrodite, who had poured their tea and given them scones and little cakes, but she didn't mention it for fear of wounding his ego.

It reminded her of their copious picnics on the beach at camp, as she leaned back and ate several slices of watermelon, watching the ocean in the view beyond them. Percy said, "Hey, Aza," he formed a fist, and mimed as if he were holding something to his mouth, "this is a microphone," Aza's lips slowly formed into a smile - she had almost forgotten about most of their inside jokes, and the little embellishments to their friendships. Percy continued slowly, "Thoughts on... the economy."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and let out a breathy laugh when Percy reached his fist towards Aza, bringing the pseudo-mic close to her face, "Bad. A jar of Medea's SPF five-thousand used to cost seven drachmas, but now it's ten. I've had to break open Ellis's piggybank a couple of times. And I know it's just because Mr. D now has an addiction to auction websites."