[act three; chapter eleven - as though all happiness had gone from the world]
Under different circumstances, wandering through Rome with his two best friends would have been pretty awesome. Percy had become the designated third-wheel as the two girls held hands as they navigated the winding streets, dodging cars and crazy Vespa drivers, squeezing through mobs of tourists, and wading through oceans of pigeons. Although he felt a little left out without Grover here (the whole thing was like a deja vu almost, bringing up memories), he was glad to see the two of them sticking together. They needed that, each other.
The day warmed up quickly. Once they got away from the car exhaust on the main roads, the air smelled of baking bread and freshly cut flowers.
They aimed for the Colosseum because that was an easy landmark, but getting there proved harder than Percy anticipated. As big and confusing as the city had looked from above, it was even more so on the ground. Several times they got lost on dead-end streets. They found beautiful fountains and huge monuments by accident and even wandered across a small garden where Andy ended up talking with vines for several minutes, mocking every word Percy and Annabeth said as they attempted to pull her away.
The daughter of Athena commented on the architecture and the redhead went on and on about how vines were gossips, but Percy kept his eyes open for other things. Once he spotted a glowing purple ghost—a Lar—glaring at them from the window of an apartment building. Another time he saw a white-robed woman—maybe a nymph or a goddess—holding a wicked- looking knife, slipping between ruined columns in a public park. Nothing attacked them, but he felt like they were being watched, and the watchers were not friendly.
Somewhere along the way, he felt a soft yet calloused hand on his back, Andy curling an arm around his waist. He knew she could feel his anxiety as it radiated off of him and he felt bad of course, because he knew what he and so many others felt, she felt, too. But she didn't say anything, not as she steered him in the same direction that Annabeth walked, a small, content smile on her face. Gods, she was stunning. He wanted to say something, tell her she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, but he knew she appreciated his silence much more. She had always been better with emotions, they were easier for her to understand in comparison to words.
Her curly hair was tucked behind her ears, her curly bangs framing her face as they fanned out like curtains. Her eyes, he noticed, were ringed in gold, most likely because of the effect that Gaea's control had on her. Amethyst, ringed with gold, speckled with pink. It was a strange combination, but he thought they were stunning. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, one with the Great Wave Off Kanagawa in the centre, longer denim shorts, a pair of socks she stole from Jason (and yes, they are clean), and dark green Converse. It was a normal outfit, at least for her, yet Percy couldn't help but admire everything about her—her mind, her heart, her soul, her body. He loved how she had endless curiosity and love for the unknown and unwanted. He loved how she had opened her heart to the possibility of the scariest thing she would ever experience—love. He loved how she had accepted who she was as who she was always meant to be, with or without the Fates guiding her. He loved how she expressed so many emotions through her body, whether it be her posture, the way you could always tell whether she was happy or sad, and the way she reacted to, well...love. He loved everything about her, even in the simplest of ways.
Finally they reached the Colosseum, where a dozen guys in cheap gladiator costumes were scuffling with the police—plastic swords versus batons. Percy wasn't sure what that was about, but he, Andy, and Annabeth decided to keep walking. Sometimes mortals were even stranger than monsters.
They made their way west, stopping every once in a while to ask directions to the river. Percy hadn't considered that—duh—people in Italy spoke Italian, while he did not. As it turned out, though, that wasn't much of a problem. The few times someone approached them on the street and asked a question, he just looked at them in confusion, and they switched to English.
Next discovery: the Italians used euros, and Percy didn't have any. He regretted this as soon as he found a tourist shop that sold sodas. By then it was almost noon, getting really hot, and he was starting to wish he had a trireme filled with Diet Coke.
Annabeth solved the problem. She dug around in her backpack, brought out Daedalus's laptop, and typed in a few commands. A plastic card ejected from a slot in the side.
The blonde waved it triumphantly. "International credit card. For emergencies."
Percy stared at her in amazement. "How did you—? No. Never mind. I don't want to know. Just keep being awesome."
The sodas helped (though Andy got a lemonade with large amounts of sugar in it, which probably wasn't a great thing), but they were still hot and tired by the time they arrived at the Tiber River. The shore was edged with a stone embankment. A chaotic assortment of warehouses, apartments, stores, and cafés crowded the riverfront.
The Tiber itself was wide, lazy, and caramel-colored. A few tall cypress trees hung over the banks. The nearest bridge looked fairly new, made from iron girders, but right next to it stood a crumbling line of stone arches that stopped halfway across the river—ruins that might've been left over from the days of the Caesars.
"This is it." Annabeth pointed at the old stone bridge. "I recognize that from the map. But what do we do now?"
Percy was glad she had said we. He didn't want to leave her yet. In fact, he wasn't sure he could make himself do it when the time came.
He stared at the river, wondering how they could make contact with the god Tiberinus. He didn't really want to jump in. The Tiber didn't look much cleaner than the East River back home, where he'd had too many encounters with grouchy river spirits.
He gestured to a nearby café with tables overlooking the water. "It's about lunchtime. How about we try your credit card again?"
Even though it was noon, the place was empty. They picked a table outside by the river, and a waiter hurried over. He looked a bit surprised to see them—especially when they said they wanted lunch.
"American?" he asked, with a pained smile.
"Yes," Annabeth said.
"And I'd love a pizza," Percy said.
The waiter looked like he was trying to swallow a euro coin. "Of course you would, signor. And let me guess: a Coca-Cola? With ice?"
"Awesome," Percy said. He didn't understand why the guy was giving him such a sour face. It wasn't like Percy had asked for a blue Coke.
Andy ordered Baked Ziti and another lemonade while Annabeth ordered a panini and some fizzy water. After the waiter left, she smiled at Percy. "I think Italians eat a lot later in the day. They don't put ice in their drinks. And they only do pizza for tourists."
"Oh." Percy shrugged. "The best Italian food, and they don't even eat it?"
"I wouldn't say that in front of the waiter, Perc." Andy said as she took a drink of her lemonade.
The daughter of Dionysus seemed to be feeling anxious now too, her hands constantly clasped in her lap. She was balling them into fists so hard that Percy could see the faintest of scars on her knuckles.
He wondered, just briefly, if he should tell her and Annabeth about his dream of Gaea destroying Camp Half-Blood, destroying their home and tearing it apart piece by piece.
But it made him wonder...what would have happened if they hadn't scared off Chrysaor's pirates? Percy and Andy would've been put in chains and taken to Gaea's minions. Their blood would have been spilled on ancient stones and the daughter of Dionysus most likely would have been enslaved till the day she died, an image he didn't want to picture or even think about. Percy guessed that meant they would've been taken to Greece for some big horrible sacrifice. But they had been in plenty of bad situations together. They could've figured out an escape plan, saved the day...
"You shouldn't feel ashamed or anything," Andy said. "You're thinking about Chrysaor, huh? Swords can't solve every problem, my gorgeous brute. You saved us in the end. You always do."
You always do.
In spite of himself, Percy smiled. "How do you do that? You always know what I'm thinking."
"I know you," she said.
And someone, she liked—no, loved—him anyway.
"Percy," she said, "you can't carry the weight of this whole quest. It's impossible. That's why there are nine, well, ten of us. And I—we're going to have to go our separate ways, eventually." Her eyes caught Annabeth's, and the blonde gave her a small smile, reaching for her hand. "Not all of us, sure, but some of us."
"I missed you," he confessed. "Both of you. For months. A huge chunk of our lives was taken away. If I lost you either of you again, if we were separated again—"
Lunch arrived. The waiter looked much calmer. Having accepted the fact that they were clueless Americans (maybe aside from Andy who, apparently, had some Italian blood and spoke it almost fluently), he had apparently decided to forgive them and treat them politely.
"It is a beautiful view," he said, nodding toward the river. "Enjoy, please."
Once he left, they ate in silence. The pizza was a bland, doughy square with not a lot of cheese.
"You'll have to trust me," Annabeth said, not just to one of them, but both of them, maybe even to herself. "You've got to believe I'll come back."
He swallowed another bite. "I believe in you. That's not the problem. But come back from where?"
The sound of a Vespa interrupted them. Percy looked along the riverfront and did a double take. The motor scooter was an old-fashioned model: big and baby blue. The driver was a guy in a silky grey suit. Behind him sat a younger woman with a headscarf, her hands around the man's waist. They weaved between café tables and puttered to a stop next to the three demigods.
"Why, hello," the man said. His voice was deep, almost croaky, like a movie actor's. His hair was short and greased back from his craggy face. He was handsome in a 1950s dad-on-television way. Even his clothes seemed old-fashioned. When he stepped off his bike, the waistline of his slacks was way higher than normal, but somehow he still managed to look manly and stylish and not like a total goober. Percy had trouble guessing his age—maybe thirty-something, though the men's fashion and manner seemed grandfather-ish.
The woman slid off the bike. "We've had the most lovely morning," she said breathlessly.
She looked about twenty-one, also dressed in an old-fashioned style. Her ankle-length marigold skirt and white blouse were pinched together with a large leather belt, giving her the narrowest waist Percy had ever seen. When she removed her scarf, her short wavy black hair bounced into perfect shape. She had dark playful eyes and a brilliant smile. The son of Poseidon had seen naiads that looked less pixieish than this lady.
Annabeth's sandwich fell out of her hands. "Oh, gods. How—how...?"
Andy, however, seemed to be in a similar predicament, her mouth dropped open, her pasta forgotten. "What. The. Actual. Fuck?"
They both seemed so stunned that Percy figured he ought to know these two.
"You guys do look familiar," he decided. He thought he might have seen their faces on television. It seemed like they were from an old show, but that couldn't be right. They hadn't aged at all. Nevertheless, he pointed at the guy and took a guess. "Are you that guy on Mad Men?"
"Percy!" Annabeth looked horrified.
"What?" he protested. "I don't watch a lot of TV."
"Oh my gods, I've failed you. How...how do you not know where they are? Percy, we've watched so many movies, how do you not know who they are!?" Andy waved her hands frantically, almost like she had touched something that she didn't like the feeling of, like a scratchy fabric.
"That's Gregory Peck!" Annabeth's eyes were wide, and her mouth kept falling open. "And...oh gods! Audrey Hepburn! I know this movie. Roman Holiday. But that was from the 1950s. How—?"
"Oh, my dear!" The woman twirled like an air spirit and sat down at their table. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else! My name is Rhea Silvia. I was the mother to Romulus and Remus, thousands of years ago. But you're so kind to think I look as young as the 1950s. And this is my husband..."
"Tiberinus," said Gregory Peck, thrusting out his hand to Percy in a manly way. "God of the River Tiber."
Percy shook his hand. The guy smelled of aftershave. Of course, if Percy were the Tiber River, he'd probably want to mask the smell with cologne too.
"Uh, hi," Percy said. "Do you two always look like American movie stars?"
His girlfriend poked his arm. "You can't just ask people that, Fish Face."
He didn't know whether she was joking or not. Probably not.
"Do we?" Tiberinus frowned and studied his clothes. "I'm not sure, actually. The migration of Western civilization goes both ways, you know. Rome affected the world, but the world also affects Rome. There does seem to be a lot of American influence lately. I've rather lost track over the centuries."
"Okay," the boy said. "But...you're here to help?"
"My naiads told me you two were here." Tiberinus cast his dark eyes toward Annabeth. "You have the map, my dear? And your letter of introduction?"
"Uh..." Annabeth handed him the letter and the disk of bronze."S-so..." she stammered, "you've helped other children of Athena with this quest?"
"Oh, my dear!" The pretty lady, Rhea Silvia, put her hand on the daughter of Athena's shoulder. "Tiberinus is ever so helpful. He saved my children Romulus and Remus, you know, and brought them to the wolf goddess Lupa. Later, when that old king Numen tried to kill me, Tiberinus took pity on me and made me his wife. I've been ruling the river kingdom at his side ever since. He's just dreamy!"
"Thank you, my dear," Tiberinus said with a wry smile. "And, yes, Annabeth Chase, I've helped many of your siblings...to at least begin their journey safely. A shame all of them died painfully later on. Well, your documents seem in order. We should get going. The Mark of Athena awaits!"
Andy gripped Annabeth's hand—probably a little too tight. "Tiberinus, let us go with her. Just a little farther. Please."
Rhea Silvia laughed sweetly. "But you can't, daughter of Madness. You must return to your ship and gather your other friends. Confront the giants! The way will appear in your friend Piper's knife. Annabeth has a different path. She must walk alone."
"Indeed," Tiberinus said. "Annabeth must face the guardian of the shrine by herself. It is the only way. And Percy Jackson, Andromeda Storm, you have less time than you realised to rescue your friend in the jar. You must hurry."
Percy's pizza felt like a cement lump in his stomach. "But—"
"It's all right, Percy." Annabeth reached to squeeze his hand. "I need to do this."
He started to protest. Her expression stopped him. She was terrified but doing her best to hide it—for his and Andy's sake. If they tried to argue, they would only make things harder for her. Or worse, they might convince her to stay. Then she would have to live with the knowledge that she'd backed down from her biggest challenge...assuming that they survived at all, with Rome about to get levelled and Gaea about to rise and destroy the world. The Athena statue held the key to defeating the giants. Percy didn't know why or how, but Annabeth was the only one who could find it.
"You're right," he said, forcing out the words. "Be safe."
Rhea Silvia giggled like it was a ridiculous comment. "Safe? Not at all! But necessary. Come, Annabeth, my dear. We will show you where your path starts. After that, you're on your own."
The blonde reached forward and cupped her redheaded best friend's face in her hands, forcing Andy to look at her. It was like there was a silent conversation between the two of them, one that Percy would never know or understand.
Andy leaned forward and dropped her forehead against the blondes, whispering, "You come back to me. You come back and I come back to you."
Annabeth grinned. "Always. To whatever end?"
"To whatever end."
She hesitated as she pulled away, like she was wondering what else to say. Before she walked away fully, she spared them one last glance. "If something happens, tell Naya that she was always worth more than all of the stars in the universe." Then she shouldered her backpack and climbed on the back of the scooter.
Percy hated it. He would've preferred to fight any monster in the world. He would've preferred a rematch with Chrysaor. But he forced himself to stay in his chair and watch as Annabeth motored off through the streets of Rome with Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn.
—⏳—
Zara really just wanted the chance to make a really terrible situation seem not so...terrible.
Once she and Jason had gotten tired of pacing the deck, listening to Coach Hedge sing "Old MacDonald" (with weapons instead of animals), they decided to have a picnic in the park. Piper, deciding she didn't want to third-wheel, had opted to stay on the ship and keep an eye on Coach Hedge, just in case he decided to try to attack someone or something.
Hedge grudgingly agreed. "Stay where I can see you."
"What are we, kids?" Jason asked.
Hedge snorted. "Kids are baby goats. They're cute, and they have redeeming social value. You are definitely not kids."
"So...are you saying we don't have any redeeming social value, Coach?" Zara asked with a pout, faux hurt in her expression. She felt lighter, at least in the last few days, she did. She felt like there had been a weight lifted off of her chest, like she didn't have to be all of the things she thought her mother might have expected her to be before she died. That maybe Zara could start to open up and allow the thoughts in her head to become words and her dreams to become reality.
They spread their blanket under a willow tree next to a pond. Zara had asked Piper if she could borrow her fancy cone to curate some food, and the daughter of Aphrodite had happily complied. As she tipped it, food began to spill out—sandwiches, fruit, deserts, even a small cake that was meant for one or two people only.
She frowned. "Is it someone's birthday?"
Jason winced. "I wasn't going to say anything."
"Jason!"
Zara, with everything going on, hadn't really been paying attention to the exact dates, which meant somewhere along the way she had forgotten her own boyfriend's birthday, which also meant it was Leo, Andy, and Donnie's birthdays in a few days, too.
"There's too much going on," he said. "And honestly...before last month, I didn't even know when my birthday was. Thalia told me the last time she was at camp."
"You...Jay, you could have told me. I—I mean, I don't know how I would have helped, but I would have found something that did." Her shoulders fell in defeat. "I've completely blocked out the days so much I didn't even realise it was your birthday. I'm so sorry, seriously, I can't even tell you."
She wondered what that would be like—not even knowing the day you were born. Jason had been given to Lupa the wolf when he was only two years old. He'd never really known his mortal mom. He'd only been reunited with his sister last winter and his memory had been wiped.
"July First," Zara said, remembering the other event that also landed on the first of July. "The Kalends of July."
"Yeah." Jason smirked. "The Romans would find that auspicious—the first day of the month named for Julius Caesar. Juno's sacred day. Yippee."
Zara tilted her head slightly, letting it drop onto her shoulder as she watched him. He was wearing a Camp Jupiter shirt, one that was all faded so the colour wasn't as pigmented as it had been originally, with one of her oversized flannels over top, a pair of jeans and Converse on his feet. His hair was messy and had even begun to develop a wave in the summer heat, his electric blue eyes always cautious and aware of his surroundings. He was always so alert that he never really gave himself the opportunity to just...be.
"You're sixteen now."
He nodded with wide eyes, almost like he was just realising how old he really was. "Oh, boy. I can get my driver's licence."
Zara laughed. Jason had killed so many monsters and saved the world so many times that the idea of him sweating a driving test seemed ridiculous. She pictured him behind the wheel of some old car with a STUDENT DRIVER sign on top and a grumpy teacher in the passenger seat with an emergency brake pedal.
"Well?" she urged. "Blow out the candles, old man."
Jason did.
The blonde plucked an extinguished candle from his cake. "I've been thinking."
Zara let out a 'hmm' and popped a grape into her mouth. "About?" she asked.
"Camp Jupiter," he said. "All the years we trained there. We were always pushing teamwork, working as a unit. I thought I understood what that meant. But honestly? I was always the leader. Even when I was younger—"
"The son of Jupiter," Zara said. "Most powerful kid in the legion aside from the infamous daughter of Madness. You two were the stars."
Jason looked uncomfortable, but he didn't deny it. "Being in this crew of all of us...I'm not sure what to do. I'm not used to being one of so many, well, equals. I feel like I'm failing."
The daughter of Flora flicked his forehead. "You're not failing, quite the opposite really."
"It sure felt that way when Chrysaor attacked," Jason said. "I've spent most of this trip knocked out and helpless."
"Oh, come on," she chided. "Being a hero doesn't mean you're invincible or made of steel like Superman. It just means that you're brave enough to do the things that are needed, even if no one else will."
"And if I don't know what's needed?"
"That's what your friends are for, what I'm for. We've all got different strengths and weaknesses, but put us together and we make a really strange, colourful puzzle that always comes back together. We'll figure it out."
Jason studied her. Zara knew it wasn't easy for him to confide in people about certain things, even if that person was her. She could see the gears turning in his head, see the anxiety in his eyes and all of the pressure that just continued to build and build.
"Hercules was a jerk," he said. "I never want to be like that. I don't want to be a jerk who people hate in ten years or fifteen or thirty. I don't want to be remembered that way."
"You won't be. You'll be remembered as an amazing hero and someone who tried to look on the positive side of things, even with all of the darkness that you've lived through. I really don't deserve you."
"Don't say that. That's, like, a breakup line."
"What? What movies have you been watching with Andy that you say it's a breakup line? I'm not breaking up with you, crazy. I mean, I would have to be crazy to break up with you and..."
Jason leaned over and kissed her. The colours of the Roman afternoon suddenly seemed sharper, as if the world had switched to high definition.
"No breakups," he promised. "I may have busted my head a few times, but I'm not that stupid."
"Good, that's good," she said. "Now, about that cake—"
Her voice faltered. Percy Jackson and Andromeda Storm were running toward them, and Zara could tell from their expressions that they brought bad news.
They gathered on deck so that Coach Hedge and Piper could hear the story. When the two were done, Zara still couldn't believe it.
"So Annabeth was kidnapped on a motor scooter," Piper summed up, "by Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn."
"Not kidnapped, exactly," Percy said. "But I've got this bad feeling..." He took a deep breath, like he was trying hard not to freak out. "Anyway, she's—she's gone. Maybe we shouldn't have let her, but— "
"You had to," Zara said. "You knew she had to go alone. Besides, Annabeth is one of the toughest, smartest people I've ever met. She'll be fine."
Andy's shoulders relaxed a little, though her entire body was as tight as a rubberband. "Maybe you're right. Anyway, Gregory—I mean Tiberinus—actually, no, Gregory said we had less time to rescue Nico than we thought. Donnie and the guys aren't back yet?"
Piper checked the time on the helm control. As it turns out, none of them had realised how late it was getting. "It's two in the afternoon. We said three o'clock for a rendezvous."
"At the latest," Jason said.
Percy flapped his hand in the direction of Piper's dagger. "Tiberinus said you could find Nico's location...you know, with that."
The girl bit her lip. "I've tried," she said. "The dagger doesn't always show what I want to see. In fact, it hardly ever does."
"Please," Andy said. "Try again."
She pleaded—a rare, unusual thing—with those deep, well-like amethyst eyes that always shifted colours, almost like a flower changing and expanding under the changing light of the sun. No wonder she always one arguments with Percy, you know, if they ever had any.
"Fine," Piper sighed, and drew her dagger.
"While you're at it," said Coach Hedge, "see if you can get the latest baseball scores. Italians don't cover baseball worth beans."
Zara leaned towards Andy and whispered, "I don't think that's how it works."
The redhead snorted. "Try telling him that."
"Shh." Piper studied the bronze blade. The light shimmered. She saw a loft apartment filled with Roman demigods. A dozen of them stood around a dining table as Octavian talked and pointed to a big map. Reyna paced next to the windows, gazing down at Central Park.
"That's not good," Jason muttered. "They've already set up a forward base in Manhattan."
"And that map shows Long Island," Percy said.
"They're scouting the territory," Jason guessed. "Discussing invasion routes."
Piper concentrated harder. Light rippled across the blade. She saw ruins—a few crumbling walls, a single column, a stone floor covered with moss and dead vines—all clustered on a grassy hillside dotted with pine trees.
"We were just there," Percy said. "That's in the old Forum."
The view zoomed in. On one side of the stone floor, a set of stairs had been excavated, leading down to a modern iron gate with a padlock. The blade's image zoomed straight through the doorway, down a spiral stairwell, and into a dark, cylindrical chamber like the inside of a grain silo.
Piper dropped the blade.
"What's wrong?" Jason asked. "It was showing us something."
"We can't go there."
Percy frowned. "Piper, Nico is dying. We've got to find him. Not to mention, Rome is about to get destroyed."
Zara looked between them all frantically, unsure of what to say. If Nico...gods, if Nico was already gone, if he was already dead and gone, then that meant Gaea had succeeded in some regard. Sure, there was a whole plan of hers to lure them all to Rome and to Greece, but Nico was part of that, and outside of that, he was also a person. He was just a kid, just a young demigod who had faced and seen more than what he should, more than what anyone should.
"We're too late," Jason said.
"No," Percy said, though his eyes were focused on his girlfriend as she backed away from them, shaking her head as silver lined her eyes. "No, I can't believe that. Maybe he's gone into a deeper trance to buy time. We have to hurry."
The blade's surface went dark. Piper slipped it back into its sheath, trying to keep her hands from shaking.
"We should wait for the others," she said. "Donnie, Hazel, Frank, and Leo should be back soon."
"We can't wait," Percy insisted.
Coach Hedge grunted. "It's just two giants. If you guys want, I can take them."
"No, no." Andy shook her head, her hands fisting on and off, her knuckles white. "I—we should wait, but we don't have time. We have to get to Nico."
"Uh, Coach," Jason said, "that's a great offer, but we need you to man the ship—or goat the ship. Whatever."
Hedge scowled. "And let you three have all the fun?"
Percy gripped the satyr's arm. "Hazel and the others need you here. When they get back, they'll need your leadership. You're their rock."
"Yeah." Jason managed to keep a straight face. "Leo always says you're his rock. You can tell them where we've gone and bring the ship around to meet us at the Forum."
"And here." Piper unstrapped Katoptris and put it in Coach Hedge's hands.
The satyr's eyes widened. A demigod was never supposed to leave her weapon behind, but Piper was definitely fed up with evil visions.
"Keep an eye on us with the blade," she suggested. "And you can check the baseball scores."
That sealed the deal. Hedge nodded grimly, prepared to do his part for the quest.
"All right," he said. "But if any giants come this way—"
"Feel free to blast them," Jason said.
"What about annoying tourists?"
"No," they all said in unison, but Andy hesitated and nearly murmured out a, "Yes."
"Bah. Fine. Just don't take too long, or I'm coming after you with ballistae blazing."
—⏳—
Finding the place was easy. Percy led them right to it, on an abandoned stretch of hillside overlooking the ruined Forum.
Getting in was easy too, though it seemed a little too easy in Andy's opinion. Jason's gold sword cut through the padlock, and the metal gate creaked open. No mortals saw them. No alarms went off. Stone steps spiralled down into the gloom.
"I'll go first," Jason said.
"No!" Piper yelped.
The other four demigods turned toward her.
"Piper, um, what?" The daughter of Dionysus asked cautiously. "What is it?"
Jason looked between the two and then down to Piper's hand that typically carried her knife, but was now empty. "That image in the blade...you've seen it before, haven't you?"
She nodded, her eyes stinging. "I didn't know how to tell you. I saw the room down there filling with water. I saw the five of us drowning."
Jason and Percy both frowned, Zara going slightly pale as she clutched onto her sister's hand tightly, the eldest demigod of them all peeking down the stairs with something that seemed a lot like curiosity.
"I can't drown," Percy said, though he sounded like he was asking a question.
"Maybe the future has changed," Jason speculated. "In the image you showed us just now, there wasn't any water."
Andy wished he was right, but she had a sneaky suspicion they wouldn't be so lucky.
"Look," Percy said. "I'll check it out first. It's fine. Be right back."
Before anyone could object, he disappeared down the stairwell, Andy reaching blindly for a hand that was not there.
She counted silently as they waited for him to come back. Somewhere around thirty-five, she heard his footsteps, and he appeared at the top, looking more baffled than relieved. He immediately walked up to her, pressing a kiss to her nose, murmuring that he was alright.
"Good news: no water," he said. "Bad news: I don't see any exits down there. And, uh, weird news: well, you should see this..."
They descended cautiously. Andy took the lead with her blade-edged shields, Percy behind her with Riptide drawn. Piper and Zara followed, and Jason walked behind them, guarding their backs. The stairwell was a cramped corkscrew of masonry, no more than six feet in diameter. Even though Percy had given the "all clear," Andy kept her eyes open for traps, shuffling her feet in front of her before every step she took, almost like she was treading across thin ice. With every turn of the stairs, she anticipated an ambush, her nerves on fire.
As they wound their way underground, the redhead saw old graffiti gouged into the stones: Roman numerals, names and phrases in Italian. That meant other people had been down here more recently than the Roman Empire, but she wasn't reassured. If monsters were below, they'd ignore mortals, waiting for demigods to come along and be their next meal.
Finally, they reached the bottom.
Percy reached one hand forward, bracing it on Andy's waist as he turned to the others behind them. "Watch this last step."
The girl jumped to the floor of the cylindrical room, which was five feet lower than the stairwell. Dust rose and circled around her feet as her Converse thudded on the stone floor, Percy's joining her a moment later.
The room was what Andy had pictured an old well to look like, except it was larger and there was no water. The curved walls had once been painted with frescoes, which were now faded to eggshell white with only flecks of colour. The domed ceiling was about fifty feet above.
Around the back side of the room, opposite the stairwell, nine alcoves were carved into the wall. Each niche was about five feet off the floor and big enough for a human-sized statue, but each was empty.
The air felt cold and dry. As Percy had said, there were no other exits.
"All right." Percy raised his eyebrows. "Here's the weird part. Watch."
He stepped to the middle of the room.
Instantly, green and blue light rippled across the walls. Andy heard the sound of a fountain, water dripping and rushing, but there was no water. It was completely barren and dry. There didn't seem to be any source of light except for Percy's and Jason's blades.
"Do you smell the ocean?" Percy asked.
She hadn't noticed at first. She was standing next to Percy, and he always smelled like the sea, which was typically comforting. But he was right. The scent of salt water and storm was getting stronger, like a summer hurricane approaching. But this smell, it was not comforting, not in the slightest.
"An illusion?" Zara asked, her voice dry and hoarse, not at all like her usual silky smooth tone.
"I don't know," Percy said. "I feel like there should be water here—lots of water. But there isn't any. I've never been in a place like this."
Jason moved to the row of niches, his eyes occasionally darting to look at Andy who did the same as him, just on the opposite side of the room. He touched the bottom shelf of the nearest one, which was just at his eye level. "This stone...it's embedded with seashells. This is a nymphaeum."
Piper cleared her dry throat. "A what?"
"We have one at Camp Jupiter," Andy said as she redjoined them at the centre, "on Temple Hill. It's a shrine to the nymphs."
Jason was right. The alcove was studded with cowries, conches, and scallops. The seashells seemed to dance in the watery light. They were ice-cold to the touch.
The blonde stepped back and examined the row of alcoves. "Shrines like this were all over the place in Ancient Rome. Rich people had them outside their villas to honour nymphs, to make sure the local water was always fresh. Some shrines were built around natural springs, but most were man-made."
"So...no actual nymphs lived here?" Piper asked hopefully.
"Not sure," Jason said. "This place where we're standing would have been a pool with a fountain. A lot of times, if the nymphaeum belonged to a demigod, he or she would invite nymphs to live there. If the spirits took up residence, that was considered good luck."
"For the owner," Percy guessed. "But it would also bind the nymphs to the new water source, which would be great if the fountain was in a nice sunny park with fresh water pumped in through the aqueducts—"
"But this place has been underground for centuries," Piper guessed. "Dry and buried. What would happen to the nymphs?"
The sound of water changed to a chorus of hissing, like ghostly snakes. The rippling light shifted from sea blue and green to purple and sickly lime. Above them, the nine niches glowed. They were no longer empty.
Standing in each was a withered old woman, so dried up and brittle they reminded Andy of mummies—except mummies didn't normally move. Their eyes were dark purple, a much darker shade than her own, as if the clear blue water of their life source had condensed and thickened inside them. Their fine silk dresses were now tattered and faded. Their hair had once been piled in curls, arranged with jewels in the style of Roman noblewomen, but now their locks were dishevelled and dry as straw.
Zara murmured, "I'm guessing that's what happened to them."
"What would happen to the nymphs?" said the creature in the centre niche.
She was in even worse shape than the others. Her back was hunched like the handle of a pitcher. Her skeletal hands had only the thinnest papery layer of skin. On her head, a battered wreath of golden laurels glinted in her roadkill hair.
She fixed her purple eyes on Piper. "What an interesting question, my dear. Perhaps the nymphs would still be here, suffering, waiting for revenge."
Andy considered bolting for the stairs, taking her friends and going if it meant they avoided what was surely turning into a conflict, but when she turned, the doorway had disappeared. Naturally.
Nothing was there now but a blank wall.
Jason and Percy stood to either side of the three girls, their swords ready. But Andy suspected swords wouldn't do anything for them, not with this.
"Who are you?" Percy demanded.
The central nymph turned her head. "Ah...names. We once had names. I was Hagno, the first of the nine!"
Andy thought it was a cruel joke that a hag like her would be named Hagno, but she decided not to say that.
"The nine," Jason repeated. "The nymphs of this shrine. There were always nine niches."
"Of course." Hagno bared her teeth in a vicious smile. "But we are the original nine, Jason Grace, the ones who attended the birth of your father."
His sword dipped. "You mean Jupiter? You were there when he was born?"
"Zeus, we called him then," Hagno said. "Such a squealing whelp. We attended Rhea in her labour. When the baby arrived, we hid him so that his father, Kronos, would not eat him. Ah, he had lungs, that baby! It was all we could do to drown out the noise so Kronos could not find him. When Zeus grew up, we were promised eternal honours. But that was in the old country, in Greece."
The other nymphs wailed and clawed at their niches. They seemed to be trapped in them, Andy realised, as if their feet were glued to the stone along with the decorative seashells.
"When Rome rose to power, we were invited here," Hagno said. "A son of Jupiter tempted us with favours. A new home, he promised. Bigger and better! No down payment, an excellent neighbourhood. Rome will last forever."
"Forever," the others hissed.
"We gave in to temptation," Hagno said. "We left our simple wells and springs on Mount Lycaeus and moved here. For centuries, our lives were wonderful! Parties, sacrifices in our honour, new dresses and jewellery every week. All the demigods of Rome flirted with us and honoured us."
The nymphs wailed and sighed.
"But Rome did not last," Hagno snarled. "The aqueducts were diverted. Our master's villa was abandoned and torn down. We were forgotten, buried under the earth, but we could not leave. Our life sources were bound to this place. Our old master never saw fit to release us. For centuries, we have withered here in the darkness, thirsty...so thirsty."
The others clawed at their mouths.
The daughter of Dionysus swore she felt her own throat closing up.
"I'm sorry for you," Piper said, trying to use charmspeak. "That must have been terrible. But we are not your enemies. If we can help you—"
"Oh, such a sweet voice!" Hagno cried. "Such beautiful features. I was once young like you. My voice was as soothing as a mountain stream. But do you know what happens to a nymph's mind when she is trapped in the dark, with nothing to feed on but hatred, nothing to drink but thoughts of violence? Yes, my dear. You can help us."
Percy raised his hand. "Uh...I'm the son of Poseidon. Maybe I can summon a new water source."
"Ha!" Hagno cried, and the other eight echoed, "Ha! Ha!"
"Indeed, son of Poseidon," Hagno said. "I know your father well. Ephialtes and Otis promised you would come."
Andy gripped onto the back of his shirt.
"The giants," she said, though her words were not a question, not in the slightest. "You're working for them."
"They are our neighbours, Daughter of Madness." Hagno smiled. "Their chambers lie beyond this place, where the aqueduct's water was diverted for the games. Once we have dealt with you...once you have helped us..the twins have promised we will never suffer again."
Hagno turned to Jason. "You, child of Jupiter—for the horrible betrayal of your predecessor who brought us here, you shall pay. I know the sky god's powers. I raised him as a baby! Once, we nymphs controlled the rain above our wells and springs. When I am done with you, we will have that power again. And Percy Jackson, child of the sea god...from you, we will take water, an endless supply of water."
"Endless?" Percy's eyes darted from one nymph to the other. "Uh...look, I don't know about endless. But maybe I could spare a few gallons."
"And you, Piper McLean." Hagno's purple eyes glistened. "So young, so lovely, so gifted with your sweet voice. From you, we will reclaim our beauty. And from the daughter of Flora we will take the eternal youth of a flower, we will restore ourselves completely. And you, oh, the daughter of Dionysus. From you we will take power, power that should not be harboured by such a mortal body, but by that of a gods. We will drive the world mad as they have done to us. We have saved our last life force for this day. We are very thirsty. From you three, we shall drink!"
All nine niches glowed. The nymphs disappeared, and water poured from their alcoves—sickly dark water, like oil.
And at that moment, Andy couldn't help but think it was as though all happiness had gone from the world.
—⏳—
The room began to fill at an alarming speed. Four of the five demigods pounded on the walls, looking for an exit, but they found nothing. Andy, meanwhile, had leaned against one of the walls, her arms crossed over her chest. She watched as they climbed into the alcoves to gain some height, but with water pouring out of each niche, it was like trying to balance at the edge of a waterfall.
She wanted to tell them that it was no use, that they were trapped, that the water level was getting too high, too fast. That they were stuck and that there weren't any weird or mysterious doors in the walls that would lead them out, that it wasn't like in the movies.
But she didn't. She didn't want to get rid of their last bit of hope. Not while all of hers had been dwindling for the last few days.
"I could try lightning," Jason said. "Maybe blast a hole in the roof?"
"That could bring down the whole room and crush us," Piper said.
"Or electrocute us," Percy added.
Andy cleared her throat. "Or not work at all."
"Not many choices," Jason said.
"Let me search the bottom," the son of Poseidon said. "If this place was built as a fountain, there has to be a way to drain the thing. You guys, check the niches for secret exits. Maybe the seashells are knobs, or something."
Percy jumped in the water. Jason, Zara, and Piper climbed from niche to niche, kicking and pounding, wiggling seashells embedded in the stone; but they had no luck.
Sooner than Andy expected, Percy broke the surface, gasping and flailing. She put her hands out without question, his own grasping onto hers, tugging so hard she nearly fell into the water with him.
"Couldn't breathe," he choked. "The water...not normal. Hardly made it back."
As the water rose around her, Andy felt it affecting her too. Her leg muscles trembled like she'd been running for miles. Her hands turned wrinkled and dry, despite being in the middle of a fountain and old wounds began to ache as though they had never healed.
Piper and Zara were holding hands, trying to help keep each other standing, their faces pale and hands clammy. Jason's face was pale. He seemed to be having trouble holding his sword. Percy was drenched and shivering. His hair didn't look quite so dark, as if the colour was leaching out.
"They're taking our power," Piper said. "Draining us."
"Jason," Percy coughed, "do the lightning."
Jason raised his sword. The room rumbled, but no lightning appeared. The roof didn't break. Instead, a miniature rainstorm formed at the top of the chamber. Rain poured down, filling the fountain even faster, but it wasn't normal rain. The stuff was just as dark as the water in the pool. Every drop stung the redhead's skin.
"Not what I wanted," Jason said.
The water was up to their necks now.
Percy started pushing the water away with the back of his hand, like he was shooing a bad dog. "Can't—can't control it!"
Andy grabbed onto his hand and pulled him back, pulled him close. She held onto his body, even when the shaking grew worse, and just held him. Felt his heart and heard his breathing, knew he was alive as he did the same thing to her.
"We can't fight this," Zara said, her hair now almost completely soaked and floating around her like a wreath.
Piper looked like she was having the same idea. "If we hold back, that just makes us weaker."
"What do you mean?" Jason shouted over the rain.
The water was up to their chins. Another few inches, and they'd have to swim. But the water wasn't halfway to the ceiling yet.
"The horn of plenty," Piper said. "We have to overwhelm the nymphs with fresh water, and give them more than they can use. If we can dilute this poisonous stuff—"
"Can your horn do that?" Percy struggled to keep his head above water, which was obviously a new experience for him. He looked scared out of his mind.
Andy was right beside him, occasionally trying to push him closer to the surface, to keep him breathing and his heart pumping, his lungs free of drawing. She would push him as high as she could, even if it meant she went deeper underwater.
"Only with your help." Piper was beginning to understand how the horn worked. "I need you both to channel everything you've got into the cornucopia," she said. "Percy, think about the sea."
"Salt water?"
"Doesn't matter! As long as it's clean. Jason, think about rain storms—much more rain. Zara, think about creating plants and flowers, life! And Andy, Andy think about clearing consciousnesses, think about curing madness, sanity. Think about sanity. All of you hold the cornucopia."
They huddled together as the water lifted them off their ledges. Nothing happened. The rain came down in sheets, still dark and acidic.
Andy's legs felt like lead. The rising water swirled, threatening to pull her under, but she kept a hand on Percy, kept one on Zara, too. She wished she could have the same for Jason and Piper, but she only had two hands, two hands to push two people higher as her own head dipped under the water every few seconds. She could feel her strength fading.
"No good!" Jason yelled, spitting water.
"We're getting nowhere," Percy agreed.
"You have to work together," Piper cried, hoping she was right. "Both of you think of clean water—a storm of water. Don't hold anything back. Picture all your power, all your strength leaving you."
"That's not hard!" Percy said.
"But force it out!" she said. "Offer up everything, like—like you're already dead, and your only goal is to help the nymphs. It's got to be a gift...a sacrifice."
They got quiet at that word.
"Let's try again," Jason said. "Together."
This time Andy bent all her concentration toward the horn of plenty as well. Andy pictured helping her father help clear Chris Rodriguez's mind, thinking about pushing away every dark thing she could in Donnie's mind, doing what she could for her own.
They wanted to feel the opposite of her worst? She would give them her clarity, her sanity, the most coherent lens she could offer.
Clear water blasted from the horn with such force, it pushed them against the wall. The rain
changed to a white torrent, so clean and cold, it made Andy let out a relieved laugh.
"It's working!" Jason cried.
"Too well," Percy said. "We're filling the room even faster!"
He was right. The water rose so quickly, the roof was now only a few feet away. The redhead could have reached up and touched the miniature rain clouds.
"Don't stop!" she said. "We have to dilute the poison until the nymphs are cleansed."
"That might be hard to do if we can't breathe, Piper!" Zara shouted, one of her arms around Jason's neck as she struggled to stay above water.
"What if they can't be cleansed?" Jason asked. "They've been down here turning evil for thousands of years."
"Just don't hold back," Piper said. "Give everything. Even if we go under—"
The next thing Andy knew, she was underwater. She was pulled under by something, not just water. When she glanced down, she swore she saw a vine or a root wrapped around her ankle, tugging and tugging, until she was more than seven feet from her friends. She reached down as her hands clawed at the vine, the plant that was wrapped around her that shouldn't even be in the room, shouldn't even be alive. Before she knew it, she was at the bottom of the room again, her feet against the floor as the vine continued to pull, not letting her go.
Darkness clouded her vision, creeping in on the edges like fog crawling over a lake on a rainy day. She was losing air, her breath escaping her as her lips parted, desperate. She wondered if she were crying from the pain she felt in her ears, in her lungs, in her entire body. It's not like she would know if she was or not, she couldn't feel the tears or hear the sobs. She could only feel the extreme pain turn to nothingness, numb as her senses and body gave out.
Her vision went dark.
Then, all of a sudden, she was on the floor in someone's arms, gasping for air. The most comforting smell flooded her nose. Percy. She was in Percy's arms. He was holding onto her tighter than he ever had before, and she briefly wondered if this felt like St. Louis to him all over again. The day she had been thrown from the arch and into the river where she nearly drowned, where he had saved her.
He placed a hand on the back of her head, over her sopping wet hair, and just held her. He whispered over and over again, "You fucking scared me." And, "You're okay, you're okay."
It was almost amusing to see him so freaked out. It was a taste of his own medicine, Andy thought.
He stood, bringing her with him, though his arms never let go, never released her from his hold. Well, that was until Zara and Piper wedged themselves between the two and wrapped their arms around the daughter of Dionysus.
"Fuck, Pipes." Andy murmured as she held onto the two girls. "You just saved all of us."
"Yes, she did." A voice said.
The niches glowed. Nine figures appeared, but they were no longer withered creatures. They were young, beautiful nymphs in shimmering blue gowns, their glossy black curls pinned up with silver and gold brooches. Their eyes were gentle shades of blue and green.
As they watched, eight of the nymphs dissolved into vapour and floated upward. Only the nymph in the centre remained.
"Hagno?" Piper asked.
The nymph smiled. "Yes, my dear. I didn't think such selflessness existed in mortals...especially in demigods. No offence."
Percy made a face and took a step towards his girlfriend, his hand finding hers. "How could we take offence? You just tried to drown us and suck out our lives."
Hagno winced. "Sorry about that. I was not myself. But you have reminded me of the sun and the rain and the streams in the meadows. Percy and Jason, thanks to you, I remembered the sea and the sky. And to Zara for reminding me of the beauty of life, and to Andromeda for giving me a type of clarity I have not had in many centuries. I am cleansed. But mostly, thanks to Piper. She shared something even better than clear running water." Hagno turned to her. "You have a good nature, Piper. And I'm a nature spirit. I know what I'm talking about."
Hagno pointed to the other side of the room. The stairs to the surface reappeared. Directly underneath, a circular opening shimmered into existence, like a sewer pipe, just big enough to crawl through.
"You may return to the surface," Hagno said. "Or, if you insist, you may follow the waterway to the giants. But choose quickly, because both doors will fade soon after I am gone. That pipe connects to the old aqueduct line, which feeds both this nymphaeum and the hypogeum that the giants call home."
"Ugh." Percy pressed on his temples, sticking his tongue at Andy when she mocked his words and said something that sounded like, "Oh, you demigod baby." "Please, no more complicated words."
"Oh, home is not a complicated word." Hagno sounded completely sincere. "I thought it was, but now you have unbound us from this place. My sisters have gone to seek new homes...a mountain stream, perhaps, or a lake in a meadow. I will follow them. I cannot wait to see the forests and grasslands again, and the clear running water."
"Uh," Percy said nervously, "things have changed up above in the last few thousand years."
"Nonsense," Hagno said. "How bad could it be? Pan would not allow nature to become tainted. I can't wait to see him, in fact."
Percy looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself and shared a look with Andy at the mention of Pan.
"Good luck, Hagno," Piper said. "And thank you."
"Bye!" Zara waved.
The nymph smiled one last time and vaporised.
Briefly, the nymphaeum glowed with a softer light, like a full moon. Andy smelled exotic spices and blooming roses. She heard distant music and happy voices talking and laughing. She guessed she was hearing hundreds of years of parties and celebrations that had been held at this shrine in ancient times, as if the memories had been freed along with the spirits.
"What is that?" Jason asked nervously.
The daughter of Flora grasped his hand in hers. "The ghosts are dancing. Come on. We'd better go meet the giants."
Am I being lazy and choosing not to write all of the parts with Donnie, Leo, Hazel, and Frank? Yes.
I'm trying to prioritize these parts (with Andy and all of them) cause they seem much more streamline and ✨Lonnie✨ will have it's time to shine next act.
Also, can we just love the fact that the scene with Andy drowning is pretty much Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers? Well, I am. Another thing, we're almost done with MOA, which means ⛰🔥🗡 is coming soon. . .
Well, that's all I've got for today, BYE!