Alternatively

A Lake of Tears (ii.)

"Annabeth."

"You're still so annoying," she huffed.

He grinned and his eyes twinkled. "Aren't I?"

So annoying, she stood, pacing to the window. "I'm looking for the Oracle, if you must know."

"I thought-"

"Not a myth, I'm going to ask what there is to be done about the sorcerer. I get rid of him, I get rid of the curses."

"Do you know where to go?"

A swan flashed through the shadows and she sighed. "I'm working on it."

"Can I see what you have so far?"

She hesitated, but she obliged. When she returned to the village for summer, she used to show him all she learned. Her mother always disapproved, said she was too reckless, but she thought that it was only fair she could show off with potions and facts, considering the obvious handicaps she faced. She presented the neater versions of her notes, though her map was little more than scribbles.

It was important she didn't lean too close to him; he smelled like spice and soap and it made her dizzy.

"It looks like..." he glanced up at her with furrowed brows. "Like you've searched everywhere."

"Just about."

"Why do you think the Oracle would be in the forest?"

She propped her hands on her hips. "Meaning?"

"Just that," he tapped the parchment. "Why would the Oracle hide in the place ruled by the one person they feared?"

"Where else would they go?"

"The only place you haven't looked, maybe."

His finger lay over the blob representing the village, the beginning of the kingdom. A chill ran through her; she hadn't thought of going back for years, not consciously. She wondered what had changed, who had changed.

She shook her head, raking back her hair. "If they are with the humans, I'd have no idea where to start looking."

"I haven't gotten that far," he muttered.

Another gust of wind rifled through the open window and she knew the guardians were all out, riding the currents. Even Elaine had waddled out, wings stretched wide. The curse was terrible, but she had to admit; flying was an unexpected joy. To have the air roll off her back like silk was a luxury no money could buy.

Silk.

"Hey," she batted Percy's shoulder pensively. "You know how, in the village market, there are the silk tents?"

He raised an eyebrow, rubbing his arm. "With the fake psychics?"

"Where better to hide than in plain sight?"

He sat back in his chair. "There are dozens of them, how will you know who is real?"

How will I know, good question. Annabeth paced, eyes darting through the shelves. There was a time she wasn't tall enough to even see the artifacts stored up there, let alone allowed to use them freely. They were in old boxes and enchanted bags, protection from the elements and for anyone in the cottage.

A sharp ripple turned her to the window and not seconds later, her flock rushed back to the cottage. Blackjack huffed at the door, skittish and pawing at the ground.

He was back.

"What's going-"

"Stay here," she instructed, grabbing her dagger.