PHILOXENIA ➸ Percy Jackson¹

πέντε

"Well, I'm guessing from their name it's the Underworld?"

"Precisely. They are also known to not listen to anyone, except for their overseer and now possibly his children."

Grover sat up, his eyes wild. "You're not suggesting—"

He didn't finish his thoughts, as if he was afraid to voice it out and made it real. But Chiron nodded gravely and completed it for him. "The Lord of the Dead may have more of a hand in this than we expected."

Ciaran's jaw dropped open, his mind also putting the pieces into place, the implication almost enough to knock all thoughts of his bed from him. "You're not seriously implying that I'm Hades' son?!" he exclaimed in disbelief. 

Grover and Chiron winced, no doubt at the sudden drop of the name. Ciaran instantly clammed his mouth, reminded that names have powers here, and he had no intention of finding how much the aforementioned god was actually listening in. 

"Believe me, child, that is also not the conclusion that I want to end up with," the centaur said kindly. "But we cannot deny that there are hints. The only saving grace for now is that he has not claimed you."

"But I—I don't—" Ciaran looked down at his hands as if he was seeing them for the first time. He clenched them into fists and took a deep breath in. "Let's suppose that is true. I still don't understand how I'm relevant in all of this."

"Ah, that should be explained in just a moment," Chiron said just as Percy appeared, a shadow clouding his face as he slumped into the chair at the table. "Well, Percy?"

"She said I would retrieve what was stolen," he began.

"That's great!" Grover surged forward, scraps of aluminum falling from his mouth.

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron urged. "This is important."

"She...she said I would go west and faced a god half-turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

So, the Oracle has a thing for rhyming, Ciaran silently thought. Why am I not surprised? 

"I knew it," Grover said.

"Anything else?" Chiron pressed on.

Percy pursed his lips, and Ciaran had the distinctive feeling that there was more to the prophecy that he wasn't letting on. Whatever it was, it seemed to trouble him enough that he had a hard time saying it.

"No, that's about it." Percy finally decided on.

Chiron scrutinized him, and the look in his eyes showed that he knew Percy was hiding something from him, but he let it slide. "Very well, Percy. But know this, the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

"Okay," Percy was quick to respond. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy. If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?"

"Somebody else who wants to take over?"

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."