Indigo Eyes

Chapter 125

"Don't let this go to your head, but the way you stood up to Pollux was kinda hot," she whispered to him, and every negative emotion faded away as his ego soared and his heart did somersaults in his chest.

"Too late," he smirked. "But I'm glad to know you approve."

She rolled her eyes as she shoved his shoulder. "Fish Face."

"Grape Girl."

And they left it at that, Grover shooting his friend a knowing look because the empathy link between them told him exactly what kind of a conversation just conspired between the two of them.

They'd split up after entering the throne room because somehow, Rachel stood at the foot of Zeus's throne holding Pandora's Jar. And they didn't know what kind of trance she was in, so they left Percy to talk her out of it.

But when they came back, Percy was sitting with Rachel at the hearth with Hestia, who was, by all accounts, the last Olympian left on Olympus.

"Percy?" Annabeth's voice called. "Uh, should we leave again?"

But it was Cressida's voice who asked, "Are you ok?"

And his eyes brightened as if he suddenly knew what to do as he turned to Rachel. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean ... you talked to Chiron, right?"

She managed a faint smile. "You're worried about me doing something stupid?"

"But I mean – will you be okay?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "That kind of depends on whether you save the world, hero."

Percy picked up Pandora's jar, the spirit of hope fluttering inside. "Hestia," he said, "I give this to you as an offering."

The goddess tilted her head. "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?"

"You're the last Olympian," he said. "And the most important."

"And why is that, Percy Jackson?"

"Because Hope survives best at the hearth," Percy answered. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again."

The goddess smiled. She took the jar in her hands and it began to glow. The hearth fire burned a little brighter. "Well done, Percy Jackson," she said. "May the gods bless you."

He turned to his friends, namely Cressida who was smiling a proud smile. "We're about to find out."

And he walked towards his father's throne.

"Help me up," he asked as he tried to reach for the edge of the leather seat.

Annabeth and Grover hesitate but Cressida didn't. She'd stepped forward, her hands cupped together before Annabeth held her back.

"Are both of you crazy?!" Annabeth exclaimed.

"Probably," they answered in unison.

"Percy," Grover said, "the gods really don't appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean, like, turn you into a pile of ashes don't appreciate it."

"I need to get his attention. It's the only way," Percy answered and Grover and Annabeth turned to Cressida, the only person who would be able to convince him otherwise.

"How can you condone this? He's going to get himself killed!" Annabeth said and Cressida just shrugged.

"He's got the curse of Achilles, he's harder to kill now," she pointed out before adding, "And I trust him."

And Percy gave the back of her head an adoring gaze.

"If he says he's got to do it, then I'm gonna help him," Cressida finished and Annabeth just sighed.

"Then I guess we've all got to help him," she relented as she and Cressida joined arms to create a step.

"Uh, maybe I should do it?" Grover interrupted before Percy could climb. "Cress still has a bad arm."

"Yes, please," Percy said, Annabeth nodding in agreement and Cressida held up her hands in surrender.

"Fine, have it your way."

Percy seemed so insignificant as he sat on his father's throne, Cressida half wondering if maybe she could get her father to come back if she sat on his.

Percy was speaking, likely to his father's godly voice in his head, but they could barely hear it as they simply watched him. He looked like he was about to be incinerated before he finally slipped from the throne and into Cressida's waiting arms.

"I got you. I got you, Fish Face," she said as he steadied himself.

"Are you okay? You turned pale and ... you started smoking," Grover said.

"I did not!"

And Cressida shoved his head down to look at the steam that was curling off his shirtsleeves and the singed hair on his arms.

"If you'd sat there any longer," Annabeth said, "you would've spontaneously combusted. I hope the conversation was worth it?"

"We'll find out soon," he answered.

Just then the doors of the throne room swung open. Thalia marched in. Her bow was snapped in half and her quiver was empty. "You've got to get down there," she told us. "The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading them."

And all of a sudden, Percy was the furthest thought from her mind as Cressida's thyrsus appeared in her hand and she began marching towards Thalia.

"Time to put an end to the lord of Time."