[tw: suicidal thoughts/ideation]
BACK AT THE CLIFF, Mrs. O'Leary had found a friend.
A cozy campfire crackled in a ring of stones. A girl about eight years old was sitting cross-legged next to Mrs. O'Leary, scratching the hellhound's ears.
The girl had mousy brown hair and a simple brown dress. She wore a scarf over her head so she looked like a pioneer kid—like the ghost of Little House on the Prairie or something. She poked the fire with a stick, and it seemed to glow more richly red than a normal fire.
"Hello," she said.
To Naomi's surprise, Nico bowed to the little girl. "Hello again, Lady."
She studied Percy and Naomi with eyes as red as firelight. The two decided it was best to bow.
"Sit, Percy Jackson, Naomi Sakura," she said. "Would you like some dinner?"
After staring at moldy peanut butter sandwiches and burnt cookies, Naomi didn't have much of an appetite, but the girl waved her hand and a picnic appeared at the edge of the fire. There were plates of roast beef, baked potatoes, buttered carrots, fresh bread, and a whole bunch of other foods Naomi hadn't had in a long time. Naomi's stomach growled. It was the kind of home-cooked meal people are supposed to have, but never do. The girl even made a five-foot-long dog biscuit appear for Mrs. O'Leary, who happily began tearing it to shreds.
Naomi sat down between Nico and Percy. They picked up their food.
Partly out of instinct, partly out of muscle memory, Naomi scraped part of her meal into the flames, just like they did at camp. "For the gods."
The little girl smiled. "Thank you. As tender of the flame, I get a share of every sacrifice, you know."
"I recognize you now," Percy said. "The first time I came to camp, you were sitting by the fire, in the middle of the commons area."
"You did not stop to talk," the girl recalled sadly. "Alas, most never do. Nico talked to me. He was the first in many years. Everyone rushes about. No time for visiting family."
"You're Hestia," Naomi realized, and her heart dropped. "The goddess of the hearth."
Darkness unbound snuffs out the flames.
Hestia fixed her all-knowing eyes on Naomi. There was no anger in them, nor apprehension. She was only observing her, like she was half-curious, half-sympathetic.
"I am, Naomi."
"My lady," Nico asked, "why aren't you with the other Olympians fighting Typhon?"
"I'm not much for fighting." Her red eyes flickered. Naomi realized they weren't just reflecting the flames—they were filled with flames. Though these flames were warm and cozy compared to Ares's fiery glare.
"Besides," she said, "someone has to keep the home fires burning while the other gods are away."
Her eyes remained on Naomi. She almost wished the goddess would glare—it would've made her feel less like a total monster for considering the mysterious voice's offer.
"So you're guarding Mount Olympus?" Percy asked.
"'Guard' may be too strong a word. But if you ever need a warm place to sit and a home-cooked meal, you are welcome to visit. Now eat."
Before Naomi knew it, her plate was empty. Percy and Nico scarfed their meals down just as fast.
"That was great," Percy said. "Thank you, Hestia."
She nodded. "Did you have a good visit with May Castellan?"
Percy nodded slowly. "What's wrong with her exactly?"
"She was born with a gift," Hestia said. "She could see through the Mist."
"Like my mother," Percy said. "But the glowing-eyes thing—"
"Some bear the curse of sight better than others," the goddess said sadly. "For a while, May Castellan had many talents. She attracted the attention of Hermes himself. They had a beautiful baby boy. For a brief time, she was happy. And then she went too far."
Naomi remembered what Ms. Castellan had said: They offered me an important job... It didn't work out. What kind of job could leave a person like that?
"One minute she was all happy," Percy said. "And then she was freaking out about her son's fate, like she knew he'd turned into Kronos. What happened to... to divide her like that?"
The goddess's face darkened. "That is a story I do not like to tell. But May Castellan saw too much. If you are to understand your enemy Luke, you must understand his family."
"No wonder Luke ran away," Percy said. "I mean, it wasn't right to leave his mom like that, but still—he was just a kid. Hermes shouldn't have abandoned them."
Hestia scratched behind Mrs. O'Leary's ears. The hellhound wagged her tail and accidentally knocked over a tree.
"It's easy to judge others," Hestia warned. "But will you follow Luke's path? Seek the same powers?"
Nico set down his plate. "We have no choice, my lady. It's the only way Percy stands a chance."
"Mmm." Hestia opened her hand and the fire roared. Flames shot thirty feet into the air. Naomi flinched back as the heat hit her. Then the fire died back down to normal.
"Not all powers are spectacular." Hestia looked at Naomi, then tore her eyes away to look at Percy. "Sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding. Do you believe me?"
"Uh-huh," Percy said warily.
The goddess smiled. "You are a good hero, Percy Jackson. Not too proud. I like that. But you have much to learn. When Dionysus was made a god, I gave up my throne for him. It was the only way to avoid a civil war among the gods."
"It unbalanced the Council," Percy recalled. "Suddenly there were seven guys and five girls."
Hestia shrugged. "It was the best solution, not a perfect one. Now I tend the fire. I fade slowly into the background. No one will ever write epic poems about the deeds of Hestia. Most demigods don't even stop to talk to me. But that is no matter. I keep the peace. I yield when necessary. Can you do this?"
"I don't know what you mean."
She studied him. "Perhaps not yet. But soon. Will you continue your quest?"
"Is that why you're here—to warn me against going?"
Hestia shook her head. "I am here because when all else fails, when all the other mighty gods have gone off to war, I am all that's left. Home. Hearth. I am the last Olympian. You must remember me when you face your final decision."
She looked at Naomi, and Naomi knew she was talking to her, too.
Percy looked at Nico, then Naomi, then back to Hestia's warm glowing eyes. "I have to continue, my lady. I have to stop Luke—I mean Kronos."
Hestia nodded. "Very well." She settled her gaze onto Naomi once more. "Walk with me a moment, dear?"
Naomi's throat closed up, but she knew better than to deny a god—even a god as kind-seeming as Hestia.
She nodded, standing up on shaky legs.
Hestia smiled softly at Percy and Nico. "We won't be long," she promised. "Rest for a moment."
Percy watched the pair go, his brow furrowed with worry.
The girl and the goddess walked side-by-side for over a minute in complete silence. Naomi fidgeted with her fingers, the way she tended to do when she was particularly nervous.
Unsurprisingly, the goddess seemed to pick up on her wariness.
"There is no need to be afraid of me," she murmured gently. "Nor is there a reason for me to be afraid of you."
Naomi was pretty sure the second part didn't need saying.
Or maybe it did.
"You know the Great Prophecy," Naomi said softly.
"I do," Hestia agreed. "And I know the offer that's been made to you."
Perseus and Annabeth will live.
"It was supposed to be an easy choice," Naomi whispered. "How did it get this hard this fast?"
Hestia's expression was sympathetic. "No choice this grave can ever be simple."
Naomi sighed. "Guess I should have expected it."
The goddess hummed in agreement. Then, she said, "I've been watching you, you know."
Naomi chewed on her lip. "Because of the prophecy?"
"No," the goddess answered. "I am the goddess of the home, but when I see a child without one—I like to keep an eye on them."
Naomi's chest twisted.
"You've been an orphan for most of your life," Hestia murmured gently. She stopped, looking out at the landscape below them from the edge of the cliff—the wilderness, May Castellan's house, the horizon. "Even when you learned the truth of your parentage, you still struggled with finding your place in this world."
Hestia turned her gaze to study Naomi. She loathed to think of what the goddess saw.
"Have you ever wondered what your fatal flaw was, dear?"
The question caught Naomi off-guard. She knew Annabeth's was hubris, and Percy's was his unfailing loyalty to those he loved, but in all honesty, Naomi had never given much thought to her own.
"No," she admitted.
"I believe it may be idealism," Hestia told her.
"I... I don't understand."
Hestia's gaze was as gentle as every other aspect of her. "You believe the world is kind at its core, that there is good in everyone," she murmured. "It is an admirable flaw, but a flaw still. You would put yourself in danger believing that your opponent does not wish you harm." She watched Naomi for a silent moment, as if she could see Naomi's thoughts turn to Ethan. "You crave a perfect world so badly that you would sacrifice just about anything for a truly happy ending, including yourself."
Perseus and Annabeth will live.
"Was it the truth?" Naomi whispered, her throat tight. "What the voice promised? If... If I joined Kronos, would Percy and Annabeth live?"
"I am not the Oracle," Hestia told her, "nor its guard. I cannot speak of what may or may not be. But an oath on the River Styx is not a pleasant thing to break. No being, divine or otherwise, would make it carelessly."
Naomi's heart twisted again. She swore it was going to rip itself in half one of these days.
"I can't lose them," Naomi whispered. A tear traced down her cheek. "It would destroy me."
"They are your family," Hestia murmured. "And they are fragile. All mortals are, dear."
Including you.
"I want to do the right thing." Naomi's voice cracked. "I just don't know if I'm strong enough to do it anymore."
"It is a choice you will have to make for yourself, when the time comes," Hestia said. "The Titans believe it is your destiny to snuff my hearth. The gods pray it is something else."
"Your hearth?" Naomi asked, though she already knew the answer. "On Olympus?"
Hestia nodded. She didn't look scared, or angry, or even sad. "If the city falls, it is the last hope my brethren will have of survival," she told Naomi. "When the last ember goes out, the gods will have no tether left to this world. No magic could undo it. That is the final step of the Titans' plans—their finale ultimo."
Naomi stared at the goddess. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you have been kept in the dark for long enough," Hestia murmured. "If you are to make your choice, you must understand each option. It is only right."
Naomi chewed on her lip. "Wouldn't it be easier to kill me now?" she asked, her voice barely loud enough to qualify as a whisper.
"I am not a killer," Hestia said.
"I'm sure you could ask one of the gods to do it," Naomi mumbled. "At least half of them would be happy to."
"It would not guarantee their safety," Hestia said. "Prophecies cannot be circumvented—only postponed. And this fate will wait no longer."
Naomi drew a shaky breath. She looked over the edge of the cliff.
If she was stronger, or maybe weaker, she would let herself fall off. She would throw the decision into the wind and let gravity do its job. There would be people to mourn her if she died like this—sacrificing herself to keep Olympus intact.
There would be no one to mourn her if she betrayed her friends—her family.
"Why would you tell me all of this?" she asked breathlessly. "Why would you tell me how to bring down the gods, knowing there was a chance I might do it?"
"I have faith," Hestia told her. "Whether it is blind or not—that remains to be seen." She reached up—she was a few inches shorter than Naomi—and placed her hand on Naomi's arm.
"Heed this force's words, but heed mine, too," Hestia said softly. "Whoever's voice this is—they may promise to keep Percy and Annabeth alive, but there are far worse fates than death. Remember that."
She turned away from the cliffside, and after a moment, Naomi tore her gaze away from the horizon.
"Come," the goddess murmured. "Let us return to your friends. We've kept them waiting long enough."
But she paused, lingering for a moment at the cliff's edge. Naomi watched, waiting.
"The day you were born," Hestia said after a moment, "the Fates paid you and your parents a visit. You were given a terrible fate, Naomi Sakura—a fate I would never wish upon any demigod. A wanderer such as yourself... I fear you may never find a true home. Not in the way you wish."
She touched Naomi's cheek. Her hand was warm against Naomi's tear-stained cheek. "I pray I am wrong about that."
Then she began to walk back toward the campfire.
Naomi wiped her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket, and after a deep, painful breath, she turned to follow.
❊
Hestia magically transported them into Percy's living room. One second, the goddess was saying goodbye, the next, Nico, Percy, and Naomi were sitting on Sally Jackson's couch, the rest of the living room occupied by Mrs. O'Leary.
There was a muffled yell from the bedroom. Percy's stepdad, Paul, said, "Who put this wall of fur in the doorway?"
"Percy?" his mother called out. "Are you here? Are you all right?"
"I'm here!" Percy shouted back.
"WOOF!" Mrs. O'Leary tried to turn in a circle to find Sally, knocking all the pictures off the walls.
It took a few minutes, but they finally got things worked out. After destroying most of the furniture in the living room and probably pissing off most of the neighbors, they got Percy's parents out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where they all sat around the table.
Mrs. O'Leary still took up the entire living room, but she'd settled her head in the kitchen doorway so she could see them, which made her happy. Sally tossed her a ten-pound pack of ground beef, which disappeared down her gullet. Paul poured lemonade for the rest of them while Percy explained their visit to Connecticut.
"So it's true." Paul stared at Percy like he'd never seen him before. He was wearing his white bathrobe, now covered in hellhound fur, and his salt-and-pepper hair was sticking up in every direction. "All the talk about monsters, and being a demigod... it's really true."
Percy nodded. "Sorry about Mrs. O'Leary," he said, "destroying the living room and all."
Paul laughed like he was delighted. "Are you kidding? This is awesome! I mean, when I saw the hoofprints on the Prius, I thought maybe. But this!"
He patted Mrs. O'Leary's snout. The living room shook—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM—which either meant a SWAT team was breaking down the door or Mrs. O'Leary was wagging her tail.
"Thanks for not freaking out," Percy said.
"Oh, I'm freaking out," he promised, his eyes wide. "I just think it's awesome."
"Yeah, well," Percy said, "you may not be so excited when you hear what's happening."
He told Paul and Sally about Typhon, and the gods, and the battle that was sure to come. Then he told them Nico's plan.
Sally laced her fingers around her lemonade glass. She was wearing her old blue flannel bathrobe and her hair was tied back. She took a deep breath, like she was thinking of how to say no.
"Percy, it's dangerous," she said. "Even for you."
"Mom, I know. I could die. Nico explained that. But if we don't try—"
"We'll all die," Nico said. He hadn't touched his lemonade. "Ms. Jackson, we don't stand a chance against an invasion. And there will be an invasion."
"An invasion of New York?" Paul said. "Is that even possible? How could we not see the... the monsters?"
He said the word like he still couldn't believe this was real.
"I don't know," Percy admitted. "I don't see how Kronos could just march into Manhattan, but the Mist is strong. Typhon is trampling across the country right now, and mortals think he's a storm system."
"Ms. Jackson," Nico said, "Percy needs your blessing. The process has to start that way. I wasn't sure until we met Luke's mom, but now I'm positive. This has only been done successfully twice before. Both times, the mother had to give her blessing. She had to be willing to let her son take the risk."
"You want me to bless this?" She shook her head. "It's crazy. Percy, please—"
"Mom, I can't do it without you."
"And if you survive this.... this process?"
"Then I go to war," he said. "Me against Kronos. And only one of us will survive."
Naomi's heart climbed into her throat. The more they talked about the plan, the more she wished Nico had never thought of it. There were too many things that could go wrong, too many ways everything could end in more misery than the Fates already had planned for them.
"You're my son," Sally said miserably. "I can't just..."
Percy looked at Paul, and some kind of understanding passed between them.
"Sally." Paul put his hand over Sally's. "I can't claim to know what you and Percy have been going through all these years. But it sounds to me... it sounds like Percy is doing something noble. I wish I had that much courage."
Sally stared at her lemonade. She looked like she was trying not to cry.
Then she closed her eyes. Quietly, she said, "Percy... I give you my blessing."
Percy looked at Nico.
He looked more anxious than ever, but he nodded. "It's time."
"Percy," Sally said. "One last thing. If you—if you survive this fight with Kronos, send me a sign." She rummaged through her bag and handed him her cell phone.
"Mom," he said, "you know demigods and phones—"
"I know," she said. "But just in case. If you're not able to call... maybe a sign that I could see from anywhere in Manhattan. To let me know you're okay."
"Like Theseus," Paul suggested. "He was supposed to raise white sails when he came home to Athens."
"Except he forgot," Nico muttered. "And his father jumped off the palace roof in despair. But other than that, it was a great idea."
Naomi glared at him. "Not helping," she hissed.
"What about a flag or a flare?" Sally said. "From Olympus—the Empire State Building."
"Something blue," Percy said.
"Yes," Sally agreed. "I'll watch for a blue signal. And I'll try to avoid jumping off palace roofs."
She gave Percy one last hug, and even pulled Naomi into one, which made her feel worse than she already did.
Perseus and Annabeth will live.
If Naomi had the power to ensure they survived, and something happened to them... how could Sally ever forgive her for not doing everything she could?
After saying their goodbyes, Nico, Percy, and Naomi walked to the kitchen doorway.
"Can you get us to the Underworld?" Percy asked Naomi.
She shook her head. "You have to be invited in by Hades or Persephone," she said. "Otherwise, you have to use a mortal entrance."
Percy sighed. "Los Angeles, then?"
Nico shook his head. "No need," he said. "There's a closer entrance to the Underworld."
❊