𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 (Annabeth X Malereader)

[9] Percy blows up a bus

"What about you G-man?" Grover's eyes lit up. "Me?"

Pretty soon we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch. "Maia!" he shouted. He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!"

"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van. Before we could follow, Chiron caught Percy's arm. "I should have trained you better, Percy," he said. "And you as well, Y/N. If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason-they all got more training."

"That's okay. I just wish-" Percy paused, deciding not to continue.

"What am I thinking?" Chiron cried. "I can't let you get away without this." He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and handed it to Percy. It was an ordinary disposable ballpoint, black ink, removable cap. Probably cost thirty cents.

"Gee," Percy said sarcastically. "Thanks."

"Percy, that's a gift from your father. I've kept it for years, not knowing you were who I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one."

Percy took off the cap, and the pen grew longer and heavier in his hand. In half a second, he held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs.

"The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told him. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"'Riptide,'" I translated, surprised the Ancient Greek came so easily.

"Use it only for emergencies," Chiron said, "and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn't harm them in any case."

I looked at the wickedly sharp blade. "What do you mean it wouldn't harm mortals? How could it not?"

"The sword is celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It's deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don't kill you first. But the blade will pass through mortals like an illusion. They simply are not important enough for the blade to kill. And I should warn you: as a demigod, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable."

"Good to know." Percy muttered.

"Now recap the pen." Chiron added. Percy touched the pen cap to the sword tip and instantly Riptide shrank to a ballpoint pen again. Percy nervously pocketed it, possibly afraid he would loose it.

"You can't," Chiron said.

"Can't what?" Percy asked.

"Lose the pen," he said. "It is enchanted. It will always reappear in your pocket. Try it."

Percy seemed wary, but threw the pen as far as he could down the hill and watched it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron told him. "Now check your pocket."

Sure enough, Percy reached down, pulling out the pen from his pocket.

"Okay, that's extremely cool," I admitted. "But what if a mortal sees him pulling out a sword?"

Chiron smiled. "Mist is a powerful thing, Y/N."

"Mist?"

"Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality."