[act four; chapter two - for those who hold blood of gold]
Adonis Storm had, well, he had trouble controlling his tears. It was like they hadn't stopped, not since that cavern caved in and blocked any way of getting to his sister. He had watched her fall, watched her release Percy's hand and let go, watched her be the one to sacrifice everything once again.
He didn't want to worry anyone with his silence and his tears, so he stuck to helping the others—consoling them, giving them space, giving hugs and whatever else they might have needed, all so he did not have to worry about himself.
But when he did, he chose to do so by returning to his bedroom that he shared with his twin. It was empty of life, barren—or at least that was how it felt. Without her there, without her presence, her laughter and her smile, without the smell of lavender and strawberries, it felt cold and desolate.
He ran his hands over the bookshelf that Leo had installed for her, filled to the brim with books that told the history of their ancestors, of the people that had come before them...their namesakes.
His fingers feathered over a certain book, one that had been handcrafted by Apollo himself, that contained the entire history of the Storm family and their Fates. Its leather cover was beige, with no writing or sign of ink. But there was a pressing of letters into the cover, underneath the gold chains that kept it locked. Only those with the blood of the prophetic god could open it, but Donnie had never tried to. He had never attempted to open it or look inside, but he knew his sister had, many times, in fact.
He pulled it from the shelf and held it flat in his palm, looking at the letters that had been pressed by metal, no doubt, once the cover was finished.
For those who hold blood of gold,
To my loves, I wish for you to truly hold,
The truth of the names that you behold,
And know, you shall remain forever uncontrolled
Donnie didn't know what it meant, really, not at first. But then he understood. He remembered all of the small scars and scabs on his sister's palms and her fingers. His blood...for those who hold blood of gold...would unlock the book and learn...for you to truly hold...about why they had been named as they had...the truth of the names that you behold...but the ending, the ending did not make sense to him.
Setting the book down on the desk beside the bookshelf, Donnie scanned the room for something sharp, a blade of some sort. His wine coloured eyes landed on his sister's pillow. Andy always slept with a blade...
Sure enough, a knife lay beneath her pillow. Carefully, cradling the blade in his hand, he drew it across his palm, watching as crimson blood pooled across his skin. With a small breath, Donnie reached into his power, digging deep into that well, and watched as crimson became gold, as though it had always been as such.
Quickly, he squeezed his hand, gold blood dripping onto the chain that guarded the book. Sure enough, the book began to unlock. The chains clicked and shuddered, and the sound reminded him of Festus communicating with Leo. Seconds later, the book was unchained and open on the desk.
Donnie moved through the pages slowly, taking in information and pictures that were printed on the paper. There were photos of people with the Storm name—though it had not always been Storm—going all the way back to the time of ancient Greece and Rome. Photos of warriors and lords and ladies, of kings, queens, and squires. Artwork of those who had been born and lived, and those who had not yet completed their Fate—aka, Donnie and Andy.
Pausing on his page, the photo that was there was of him of course, but he looked several years older, maybe in his early twenties. His eyes drifted around the page, observing every detail, every bit of information about who he was and what his life would look like. He didn't ponder on it too much before he flipped to the next page, finding it to be about his sister.
There was a photo of her, just as there had been on every individual's page. She looked the same age as she did currently, and her page—it wasn't finished. There was still so much of it that was empty, almost like it was mirroring her life that was not yet finished. It had information about her birthday, her appearance, her relationships and abilities, everything that there was to know about Andromeda Storm was there.
But then he began to think about that prophecy Percy had heard—the one about the Daughter of Madness. Well, the single part of it, at least.
He scoured the pages of the book, looking for a sign, just one thing, even a single word, that could tell him what it meant. Anything.
But then he saw it. Old writing, handwritten, ink from an older time, another era.
Daughter of Madness will face the dawn
She shall topple those from their thrones
And build a new world all her own
Daughter of Madness must prevail
Otherwise all plans will fail
Love and lust and madness and mania
Should she hail the next era of heroes
But what he saw on the next pages, well, it was something that would plague his mind for the coming hours. Maybe even for the rest of his life.
"Holy shit."
—🌓—
Zara didn't know what to do to help. She felt useless, like an unread book that had sat on a bookshelf for years. She wandered back and forth from the deck to check on Leo, then check on Percy and Annabeth, and Donnie, and would stop in the lounge room to make sure Jason was okay.
She went back and forth, back and forth, never stopping, never breathing—or that's how it felt, at least.
She didn't stop until Jason grabbed her around the waist as she went to walk away, and pulled her down onto his lap, curling his arms around her, his face in her hair.
Jason Grace, even with all of his pride and power, had broken down several times in the last few hours, ever since they watched that cavern collapse in on itself, keeping him from following his old friend into hell. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was red from crying, tear stains dried on his cheeks.
But Zara would stay, she would wipe away his tears even when she held back her own. She would hold him and soothe his cries when her own threatened to break through. She would stay, as she always had, and place their needs over her own.
But that night, as the sun had begun to set, Zara locked herself in her room and cried. Cried for her sister whose life was about to be altered in a way no one but Nico di Angelo could imagine. Cried for her friends who were fighting a war that was not their own. Cried for all of the half-bloods whose lives were being threatened. Cried for herself and the childhood that she had loved and lost.
Cried, for the first time in years, for a life that she had deserved, yet never had.
It was a hard pill to swallow, she realised as she thought about it more and more. She had just been a kid when her mom died, had been a kid when her family was stripped apart like pieces of rope, had been a kid when her life was placed below that of an immortal being. She had the life that she deserved at one point—a life with parents and friends, with people who loved her in a safe place where they could live without fear of death lurking around every corner. A life where she felt seen and heard, where people noticed her shaking hands and scabbed nail beds, where she was not a forgotten book on a bookshelf.
Yet that was her life now, wasn't it? A forgotten, unread book. Bitten nail beds and shaking hands. Laboured breaths and tear-filled eyes. Forced smiles and a shoulder meant for everyone but herself.
A life that she lived for others. A life that, at the end of the day, hung in the balance because of people like the gods.
And gods, was Zara tired. She was exhausted everyday. Her eyelids weighed five pounds each and her arms were even heavier than ever before. She had to work to lift her feet and force a smile. It was hard to be around anyone, it was draining in a way that she could not even explain fully.
There were no words to describe such a feeling.
She curled herself onto her bed, tucking herself beneath the covers. She didn't read a book like she usually did, having no energy left to do even that. Her hair was a greasy mess tied in a messy bun atop her head and her skin was, no doubt, oily as ever. Her clothes, at least, she had changed. But she couldn't find the energy in her tired body and exhausted mind to force herself to get up and wash her face or wash her hair. She couldn't do it, not today. Not right now.
She knew that she should go check on the others—Piper, Hazel, Frank, and Nico—but they had each other, and that would have to be enough for now.
With a heavy sigh, one that felt almost as heavy as her body, Zara closed her eyes and let herself be lulled into the world of dreamless sleep.
—🌓—
Leo had designed the mess hall's walls to show real-time scenes from Camp Half-Blood. At first, it seemed like a good idea since it provided comfort to those who called it home, but now, it didn't give comfort to anyone.
The scenes from the camp—campfire sing-alongs, dinners at the pavilion, volleyball games outside the Big House—just seemed to make Zara's friends sad. The further they got from Long Island and California, the worse it got. The time zones kept changing, making her feel the distance every time she looked at the walls, even if she had never stepped foot in Camp Half-Blood.
Here in Italy the sun had just come up. Back at Camp Half-Blood it was the middle of the night, and at Camp Jupiter, it was only a few hours earlier.
Torches sputtered at the cabin doorways. Moonlight glittered on the waves of Long Island Sound. The beach was covered in footprints, as if a big crowd had just left.
With a start, Zara realised that yesterday—last night, really—had been the Fourth of July. That meant it was three days till Andy and Donnie's birthday, as well as Leo's, as she had come to learn.
Who knew that all three of them would end up sharing July 7th with each other?
The daughter of Flora spread maple syrup around her waffles, watching it sink into the holes and melt with the butter.
"So," Jason said from where he sat next to her, "now that we're here..."
He sat at the head of the table, kind of by default. His hair was unusually messy and his electric blue eyes were dazed, as though he wasn't fully there, not really with them, with her. It was a strange sight, seeing him without Andy by his side. The two of them and Annabeth and Percy had taken to leading their group of demigods, but now one of them was gone, and one hadn't said a word since she watched her best friends fall into Tartarus and the other was...well, Zara wasn't completely sure. And now that pressure had fallen onto Jason's shoulders.
Zara glanced around the table at everyone else. Hazel was bleary-eyed, too, but of course she'd been up all night guiding the ship through the mountains. Her curly cinnamon-coloured hair was tied back in a bandanna.
Next to her sat her boyfriend Frank Zhang, dressed in black workout pants and a Roman tourist T- shirt that said CIAO!. Frank's old centurion badge was pinned to his shirt, despite the fact that the demigods of the Argo II were now not in the good graces of Camp Jupiter. His grim expression just reinforced his unfortunate resemblance to a sumo wrestler.
Then there was Nico di Angelo. He sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black T-shirt and jeans, a silver skull ring on his finger and his Stygian sword at his side. His tufts of black hair stuck up in curls like baby bat wings, and Zara couldn't help but think he was adorable, even in all of his personal darkness. His eyes were sad and seemed empty, as if he'd stared into the depths of Tartarus—which he had.
And next was Annabeth, who had somehow managed to drag herself to the meeting. She had seemed reluctant yet incredibly determined. She had changed her clothes and showed off all of the blood, grime, sweat, tears, and spider webs. Her curly blonde hair was in its usual ponytail, and just glancing at her, you would never know what she went through less than 24-hours ago.
Sitting across the table from her, next to Leo and Donnie, was Percy. He had seemingly gone through the stages of grief within hours, except now he was permanently stuck in anger. His sea green eyes were set and hard, and his jaw was permanently clenched. He must have raided Andy's closet at some point because he was wearing one of her flannels, a light, mute blue one. There were dark circles under his eyes and he glared at just about anyone who looked his way. Zara was intimidated, sure, but it would have been worse if not for the dull, empty look in his eyes that had once looked at the daughter of Dionysus as though she were something more magnificent than the sun, moon, and stars. Like she was the entire universe. But now that love was gone, replaced by burning rage and persistent numbness.
Donnie, who sat next to Leo, looked as though he was perfectly fine, as though nothing had even happened, which, in hindsight, was probably the worst thing that could happen. His eyes were brighter than ever before, lit up with a kind of crazed rage that only someone of relation to Dionysus could carry. His hair was freshly cleaned and incredibly curly, and his skin was back to his golden tan tone. His jaw was clenched and he had hardly spoken, yet when he did, all that was there was anger. Anger for the sister who was gone, anger for the Fate that had been dealt to the Storm family, and anger that was indefinitely directed at the gods and Fates. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his legs were crossed at his ankles. To anyone who didn't know him, Donnie would come across as someone who got yelled at or was frustrated by something random, but in reality, he was something so much worse.
It was the first time—on top of everything—that Zara had ever witnessed a flicker of that deadly madness in the son of Dionysus' wine coloured eyes. Perhaps with everything going on, the true extent of Donnie's powers was waking up, coming to light.
Next to him was Leo, whose face was covered in oil, cheeks red, and eyes glancing nervously around the room. Zara's eyes paused on his arm, as well as her brothers, because it appeared, from her view at least, as though they were holding hands. He was on edge, as was everyone else, but mostly because of all of the tension in the room. Zara was well aware that he blamed himself for Andy falling into Tartarus, and she could tell that there was some turmoil about his possibility thinking that the others—namely Percy, Annabeth, Donnie, and Jason—would blame him for it. Zara really hoped that he knew that it was far from that.
The only absent demigod was Piper, who was taking her turn at the helm with Coach Hedge, their satyr chaperone.
Zara couldn't help but wish that Piper were here. She had a way of calming things down with that Aphrodite charm of hers, and she was incredibly good at diffusing situations with high tension.
On the other hand, it was probably good she was above deck chaperoning their chaperone. Now that they were in the ancient lands, they had to be constantly on guard. Zara—and everyone else, she guessed—was nervous about letting Coach Hedge fly solo. The satyr was a little trigger-happy, and the helm had plenty of bright, dangerous buttons that could cause the picturesque Italian villages below them to turn into dust.
Zara blinked, not realising that Jason had been talking. "—the House of Hades," he was saying. "Nico?"
Nico sat forward. "I communed with the dead last night."
He just tossed that line out there, like he was saying he got a text from a buddy. Which, the more Zara thought about it, kind of made sense. She had inherited abilities having to do with communicating with the dead, just like Nico, except hers had a little less to do with speaking and having meetings with them, and a little more with getting their help and summoning them.
"I was able to learn more about what we'll face," Nico continued. "In ancient times, the House of
Hades was a major site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honour their ancestors."
Leo frowned. "Sounds like Día de los Muertos. My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously."
Frank grunted. "Chinese have that, too—ancestor worship, sweeping the graves in the springtime." He glanced at Leo. "Your Aunt Rosa would've got along with my grandmother."
Zara glanced between the two, twisting her rings around her fingers. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, hidden from the eyes of the people around her.
"Yeah," Leo said. "I'm sure they would've been best buds."
Nico cleared his throat. "A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honour the dead, but the House of Hades was open year round. Pilgrims could actually speak to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the Necromanteion, the Oracle of Death. You'd work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions—"
Donnie let out a grumble that sounded strangely like his father. "Well, duh." Then he cleared his throat. "Andy used to talk about all of this stuff. Traditions and history. We have lots of family members dating back to ancient Greece, I'm sure we could get in contact with some of them if we needed to."
Jason shot him a look after his first two words, trying to get him to simmer down without starting an argument.
Nico continued. "The pilgrims believed that each level of the temple brought you closer to the Underworld, until the dead would appear before you. If they were pleased with your offerings, they would answer your questions, maybe even tell you the future."
Frank tapped his mug of hot chocolate. "And if the spirits weren't pleased?"
"Some pilgrims found nothing," Nico said. "Some went insane or died after leaving the temple. Others lost their way in the tunnels and were never seen again."
"The point is," Jason said quickly, "Nico found some information that might help us."
"Yeah." The son of Hades didn't sound very enthusiastic. "The ghost I spoke to last night...he was a former priest of Hecate. He confirmed what the goddess told Hazel yesterday at the crossroads. In the first war with the giants, Hecate fought for the gods. She slew one of the giants—one who'd been designed as the anti-Hecate. A guy named Clytius."
"Dark dude," Leo guessed. "Wrapped in shadows."
Hazel turned towards him, her gold eyes narrowing. "Leo, how did you know that?"
"Kind of had a dream."
No one looked surprised. Most demigods had vivid nightmares about what was going on in the world.
Everyone paid close attention as Leo explained his dream.
Jason pushed away his plate of pancakes. "So the giant is Clytius. I suppose he'll be waiting for us, guarding the Doors of Death."
Percy let out a deep breath, looking down at the table. His body was tense and tight, his shoulders pulled back and his hands balled into tight fists.
Frank rolled up one of the pancakes and took a bite. "And the woman in Leo's dream?"
"She's my problem." Hazel passed a diamond between her fingers in a sleight of hand. "Hecate mentioned a formidable enemy in the House of Hades—a witch who couldn't be defeated except by me, using magic."
"Do you know magic?" Leo asked.
"Not yet."
Zara could tell no one really knew how to respond to that, so she asked the only obvious question, in her opinion. "Do you know who she is?"
Hazel shook her head. "Only that..." She glanced at Nico, and some sort of silent argument happened between them, and then back at Zara, as if that would translate what was just not said. Later. "Only that she won't be easy to defeat."
"But there is some good news," Nico said. "The ghost I talked to explained how Hecate defeated Clytius in the first war. She used her torches to set his hair on fire. He burned to death. In other words, fire is his weakness."
Everybody looked at Leo.
"Oh," he said. "Okay."
Jason nodded encouragingly, like this was great news—like he expected Leo to walk up to a towering mass of darkness, shoot a fire and solve all their problems.
Zara was pretty sure it would take more than a few matches to set this giant ablaze.
"It's a good lead," Jason insisted. "At least we know how to kill the giant. And this sorceress...well, if Hecate believes Hazel can defeat her, then so do I."
Hazel dropped her eyes. "Now we just have to reach the House of Hades, battle our way through Gaia's forces—"
"Plus a bunch of ghosts," Nico added grimly. "The spirits in that temple may not be friendly."
"—and find the Doors of Death," Annabeth said coolly, speaking for the first time. "Assuming we can somehow arrive at the same time as Andy and rescue her."
Frank swallowed a bite of pancake. "We can do it. We have to."
"So, with this detour," Leo said, "I'm estimating four or five days to arrive at Epirus, assuming no
delays for, you know, monster attacks and stuff."
Jason smiled sourly. "Yeah. Those never happen."
Leo looked at Hazel. "Hecate told you that Gaia was planning her big Wake Up party on August
First, right? The Feast of Whatever?"
"Spes," Hazel said. "The goddess of hope."
Maybe Zara would pray to Spes, pray that she spare some hope for them all, for Andy, hope that they all make it out of this alive.
Jason turned his fork. "Theoretically, that leaves us enough time. It's only July fifth. We should be able to close the Doors of Death, then find the giants' HQ and stop them from waking Gaia before August first."
Annabeth let out a bitter chuckle. "Theoretically." She tilted her head slightly, that Athena brilliance glinting in her stormy eyes. "And how do you suppose we get through the House of Hades without going insane if the one person who would actually be able to stop that isn't here?"
Nobody volunteered any ideas.
Frank set down his pancake roll like it suddenly didn't taste so good. "It's July fifth. Oh, jeez, I hadn't even thought of that..."
"Hey, man, it's cool," Leo said. "You're Canadian, right? No one expected you too..."
"It's not that. My grandmother...she always told me that seven was an unlucky number. It was a ghost number. She didn't like it when I told her there would be seven demigods on our quest. And July is the seventh month."
"Yeah, but..." Donnie trailed off. He looked down subconsciously, almost like he was just now realising his birthday fell on the seventh day of the seventh month, and his sister would have their birthday in Tartarus—a terrible birthday party, if you asked Zara. "That's gotta be just a coincidence, right?" He paused briefly. "Of just the gods fucking with us again?"
Frank's expression didn't reassure anyone.
"Back in China," he said, "in the old days, people called the seventh month the ghost month. That's when the spirit world and the human world were closest. The living and the dead could go back and forth. Tell me it's a coincidence we're searching for the Doors of Death during the ghost month."
No one spoke.
Zara wanted to think that an old Chinese belief couldn't have anything to do with the Romans and the Greeks. But they were completely different. Yet Frank's existence was proof that the cultures were tied together. The Zhang family went all the way back to Ancient Greece, maybe just as much as the Storm family. They'd found their way through Rome and China and finally to Canada.
Jason pressed his hands against the arms of his chair. "Let's focus on the things we can deal with. We're getting close to Bologna. Maybe we'll get more answers once we find these dwarfs that Hecate—"
The ship lurched as if it had hit an iceberg. Leo's breakfast plate slid across the table. Nico fell backwards out of his chair and banged his head against the sideboard. He collapsed on the floor, with a dozen magic goblets and platters crashing down on top of him.
Zara was thrown from her seat, narrowly missing Jason, who she managed to grab onto, stopping herself from toppling to the floor.
"Nico!" Hazel ran to help her brother.
"What—?" Frank tried to stand, but the ship pitched in the other direction. He stumbled into the table and went face-first into Leo's plate of scrambled eggs.
"Look!" Jason pointed at the walls. The images of Camp Half-Blood were flickering and changing.
"Not possible," Leo murmured.
No way those enchantments could show anything other than scenes from camp, but suddenly a huge, distorted face filled the entire port-side wall: crooked yellow teeth, a scraggly red beard, a warty nose and two mismatched eyes—one much larger and higher than the other. The face seemed to be trying to eat its way into the room.
The other walls flickered, showing scenes from above deck. Piper stood at the helm, but something was wrong. From the shoulders down she was wrapped in duct tape, her mouth gagged and her legs bound to the control console.
At the mainmast, Coach Hedge was similarly bound and gagged, while a bizarre-looking creature—a sort of gnome/chimpanzee combo with poor fashion sense—danced around him, doing the coach's hair in tiny pigtails with pink rubber bands.
On the port-side wall, the huge ugly face receded so that they could all see the entire creature—another gnome chimp, in even crazier clothes. This one began leaping around the deck, stuffing things into a burlap bag—Piper's dagger, Leo's Wii controllers. Then he prised the Archimedes sphere out of the command console.
"No!' Leo yelled"
"Uhhh," Nico groaned from the floor.
"Piper!" Zara cried.
"Monkey!" Frank yelled.
"Not monkeys," Hazel grumbled. "I think those are dwarfs."
As Leo ran for the steps, Percy, from where he now stood beside Zara, Riptide in hand, grumbled, "Lea always said never to trust dwarfs, but I really think she got them mixed up with goblins from Harry Potter." He huffed out a breath and looked down at his sword's handle, where a faint amethyst glowed. "Fuck my life."
—🌓—
At this point, all Percy wanted was to lay in his bed in New York with Andy in his arms and sleep. But there were a few problems with that plan—one: he had no time to just lay in bed, two: he wasn't in New York, hell, he wasn't even in America, three: Andy was gone, and four: he didn't think he'd be able to sleep regardless.
Though, during the sleep he did get, he was plagued by nightmares and things he wished to never see or hear ever again. Out of all of the things, it was the voice he knew all too well that had haunted him, her voice broken and empty of all of that fire. "I don't want to be here anymore."
Coach Hedge and Piper were struggling against their duct-tape bonds while one of the demon monkey dwarfs danced around the deck, picking up whatever wasn't tied down and sticking it in his bag. He was maybe four feet tall, even shorter than Coach Hedge, with bowed legs and chimp-like feet, his clothes so loud they gave Percy vertigo. His green-plaid trousers were pinned at the cuffs and held up with bright-red suspenders over a striped pink-and-black woman's blouse. He wore half a dozen gold watches on each arm and a zebra-patterned cowboy hat with a price tag dangling from the brim. His skin was covered with patches of scraggly red fur, though ninety percent of his body hair seemed to be concentrated in his magnificent eyebrows.
Percy felt goosebumps run down his arms, and it took him a second to grab anyone who was close to him, which was a few people, as Leo yelled, "Duck!" as an explosion rocked the ship.
The son of Poseidon went to turn the moment he was back on his feet, but he was slammed over the head with something that felt strangely like a book—a very thick book that would no doubt leave a bruise.
When the raven haired boy managed to look up, he saw Jason was already on his feet, stumbling and running into things, pulling Zara with him, the daughter of Flora tripping over nearly everything that came their way. Frank had turned into a silverback gorilla (why, Percy wasn't sure; maybe to commune with the monkey dwarfs?) but the flash grenade had hit him hard. He was sprawled on the deck with his tongue hanging out and his gorilla eyes rolled up in his head.
"Piper!" Zara and Jason staggered to the helm and the elder girl carefully pulled the gag out of her mouth.
"Don't waste your time on me!" she said. "Go after them!"
At the mast, Coach Hedge mumbled, "HHHmmmmm hmmm!"
That was when Percy realised he had lost sight of a certain daughter of Athena.
Annabeth, too, had been trying to bypass all of the strewn around items, trying to stay upright and on her feet. She stumbled towards him, her hands reaching blindly for something to hold onto.
The two ran into each other—literally. The son of Poseidon, out of instinct, wrapped his arms around Annabeth and acted as a human shield, keeping her from getting hit by the many objects that rained down on them. Her hands were clutching onto his shirt, her face hidden in his shoulder as he steered them away from the edge of the ship.
Below him spread the city of Bologna—a jigsaw puzzle of red-tiled buildings in a valley hemmed in by green hills.
The next thing Percy knew, Jason and Leo were gone, disappearing into the city, and Donnie was looking between all of them that remained, his face pale and covered in soot, shaking hands holding a golden book.
"I have to tell you something."
—🌓—
Donnie had recited the entire prophecy, from beginning to ending, every word, and explained what he believed everything meant.
Andy, long prophesied to become one of the most famous demigods to ever live, surpassing her great ancestor, Achilles, would be the one to bring forth the next generation of demigods. Whether that meant she was supposed to lead their group, Donnie wasn't sure. It meant either that, or by her sacrifice and falling into Tartarus. He hoped, truly, truly hoped, that there wasn't an underlying meaning to those words, that there wasn't another sacrifice in the future...
Percy had been the quietest out of all of them since the son of Dionysus repeated the prophecy. Even Annabeth had spoken, giving insight of what she thought it might mean.
But the son of Poseidon was frozen in his place, his face stricken in so many emotions, too many that Donnie could not decipher them all if he tried. His sea green eyes held a depth that they hadn't before, as though he had aged decades in minutes.
Then he croaked, "I had a dream." His voice was quiet and...shattered. Like his heart was breaking, a new shard splitting free with every word. "She was...she was stuck there, in Tartarus, like she couldn't get out. Like something was in her way. She just kept saying that she didn't want to be there anymore. But then it seemed like something was keeping her there, like she couldn't get out."
Zara looked down thoughtfully, her brows furrowed. "What if—what if she really can't get out? If she really is stuck?"
"Then we get her out."
Donnie was surprised when Frank spoke, to be fair. The son of Mars hadn't known Andy for more than a few days and out of everyone on the Argo II, they seemed to be two of the people farthest apart.
Yet here Frank was, sounding more confident than he usually did. Like he was convinced they would find Andy and get her out of Tartarus, and if they couldn't, he would go down himself.
It made a buzz of adrenaline rush through Donnie's veins. "Frank's right. We will get her out. We have to. With everything that she's sacrificed, we have to."
Hazel turned to Nico. "Is she still alive?"
The son of Hades nodded slowly, almost like he was unsure, which wasn't exactly a good thing. Actually, it was probably one of the worst things that could happen. "She is. It feels like she was somewhere in between not that long ago, like she was holding on to that place between life and death."
"Well, that's good," Piper said quietly, nodding her head absentmindedly. She picked at her nails, the shimmery navy nail polish flaking off in small pieces. "She's fighting."
"And she'll keep fighting. It's who she is." The daughter of Aphrodite, just like Frank, seemed confident, and Donnie felt nauseated at the thought of having to ruin that.
"One more thing." He said, clearing his throat. "Um, well, as it turns out, there may be one other person out there who might be able to help us. She also happens to live in Greece right now."
Pulling a picture from his pocket, he set it on the table, allowing everyone else to observe her sky blue eyes, that onyx curly hair, those defined cheekbones and sharp jawlines, that distinct curve of her nose and dip of her brow.
"Eden Storm, my cousin."
BUM BUM BUM! As you probably already know, I'm a lover of leaving cliffhangers, so here's another one for you all to mull over.
And yes, Eden Storm, whomever she may be (you'll find out soon, I promise!) will appear at some point this act, the exact part, I'm not sure yet, but she will. Also, another thing, just so everyone is aware of my little plans, Eden is a love interest for a certain daughter of the dove. Eden is also about a year older than Andy and Donnie, just for age reference, but I'll get into that whole thing a little later.
Anywho, I've been gone for a long while, but I swear, I'm trying to come back more regularly! As I said before, I'm a fairly busy person and I had my first day of school yesterday, but I'll try to update whenever I can, so expect some little breaks in between.
On another note, expect me to go absolutely feral and start naming more chapters after Taylor Swift because I'm so excited for October 21st!
Well, that's all I've got for today. I'm going to try and start the next chapter, so hopefully that'll be out sooner than the next few weeks!
BYE!