The Path Of Glory (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

78. The Prophecy Unraveled

"Looks like your brain works," he said.

Y/N wasn't so sure. His body felt weightless and cold. His voice sounded wrong, as if water were stuck in his ears.

He sat up and felt the water oozing out his ears. Instantly he could hear better. He was on a beach at night. In the distance, the lights of New York City flickered, casting a halo of light for miles around. He was on the shore of Long Island.

"How . . . ?"

"I swam you back here," Ethan explained. "I know that water isn't your element, but it's high time you take swimming lessons. Even I can do it, and I have hooves!"

Under different circumstances, Y/N would've laughed. Two years since the Sea of Monsters, and he still hadn't taken the time to learn how to swim. That was something to laugh about. Only now he was in no shape for it. His head hurt. His shirt was speckled with burn marks from the explosion. His hand wound had healed—nectar had done that—but sand scratched his skin. He felt like he'd been trampled by a Laistrygonian soccer team in cleats.

"How long—"

"Two hours," Ethan said. "I mean, I'm not quite sure. My watch wasn't waterproof, and yours is broken."

"The Princess Andromeda?"

"Over there." Ethan pointed at dark shape in the open sea in the distance. Y/N figured it must be the bloody ship, sinking like the Titanic.

"It's amazing how long it takes these things to sink," Ethan said.

"Have you seen Beckendorf?"

Ethan's face darkened. "No sign of him. Even if he survived the explosion—he's a son of Hephaestus, after all—he'll have drowned. . . . Better if he died quickly."

Y/N stared out into deep dark water. Beckendorf was supposed to go to college in the fall. He had a girlfriend, lots of friends, his whole life ahead of him. He couldn't be gone. And yet he was.

Y/N knew in his gut there was no hope. Beckendorf had sacrificed himself to take out the Princess Andromeda, and he, Ethan and Percy had abandoned him.

Where was Percy, anyway? What had happened after the explosion? They should've escaped by sea easily. But it seemed Percy had lost control. He couldn't drown, but that still left the question of where he was open.

Y/N forced himself to stand on his feet. His legs felt like they were made of jello.

"Come on, we need to get to camp," he said. It was the best thing they could do.

Together they walked along the beach. They weren't going fast, but with luck they'd make it to Camp Half-Blood before noon.

If you want to be popular at Camp Half-Blood, don't come back from a mission with bad news.

Word of their arrival spread as soon as they walked through the camp's barrier. The beach was on the North Shore of Long Island, and was enchanted so most people couldn't even see it. People don't just appear on the beach unless they're demigods or gods or really, really lost pizza delivery guys. (It had happened—but that's another story.)

That afternoon the lookout on duty was Connor Stoll from the Hermes cabin. When he spotted them, he got so excited he fell out of his tree. Then he blew the conch horn to signal the camp and ran to greet them.

Connor had a crooked smile that matched his crooked sense of humor. He was a pretty nice guy, but you better keep one hand on your wallet when he's around, and never, under any circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it. He had curly brown hair and was a little shorter than his brother, Travis, which was the only way to tell them apart. They were both so unlike Luke it was hard to believe they were all sons of Hermes.