(Y/N)'s POV
It appeared suddenly like it was always there, travelling a distance that would have killed (Y/N) to attempt in a moment, slipping through the shadow beneath him. Being closer to death made him stronger, that was the only reason (Y/N) was able to even move.
The shadow lunged at him, it's claws extended, each like chef's knives. (Y/N) threw his head to the side. His ear was still nicked, causing blood to run down the side of his face as the creatures fingers jammed into solid stone like it was a spoon through ice cream.
Not content to just run away, (Y/N) countered by using the shadows momentum to smack it in the chin. Not really a punch, he was almost too weak to form a fist, but he basically slapped the creature in the face, then ducked under it's arm and swiveled around so he was behind it,
Where he was facing it's protruding, spiky spine, it looked different than the last time he had seen it, the skeletal figure that hid underneath the hood was less of a skeleton.
It had muscles, grey and bluish, intertwined over it's bones, its eyes were more alive and ferocious. It was humanoid, human even at a glance, but anyone could tell you that something wasn't right. Shadows, ginn, and daimon, they were creatures of spirit, born of a person, their forms would always resemble their creators, but they were never the same.
Incorporeal beings like ghosts were always in motion, in the smallest of ways, they would shift and move, their forms like the wind in some ways, that was their nature, and this thing, whatever it was, despite stealing from (Y/N)'s father, was still bound to that nature.
It's skin didn't fit right, the muscles were twisted at odd angles, and it's form was too lanky to be normal, it was so tall it was almost hunched, even as it stood up straight it loomed over (Y/N), once a shadow always a shadow.
(Y/N) raised a hand, and to test something, he tried to use a shadow to restrain the creature, this time, they answered, springing from the sides of the mausoleum and coiling around the creatures arms, the shadow was unfazed.
It turned it's head like the Pazuzu and laughed, using it's gangly legs to spring off the mausoleum, pulling it's arms free and landing on the pedestal next to the scythe. "Yes, clever boy."
"You removed the seal your father had on the scythe for me, thanks for that. After that, all I had to do was follow you." It reached it's hand out and began to lift the scythe free. "How did you know where I was?" (Y/N) asked, trying to distract it.
It scoffed. "You think I don't know you boy, you think I don't know every horrid, twisted thought that has ever crossed your mind, I'm not the monster here, I just wanted to be free. You were the one who denied me that, and after all your bluster about being free of the gods."
"Look at you, you are a monster!" (Y/N) snapped back, The shadow snapped, pulling the scythe free of its pedestal and chucking it at (Y/N), who dodged, just barely, thanks to his weird love hate relationship with scythes.
As he rolled out of the way the creature had already made its way to him, shadow travelling the distance and kicking him in the ribs so hard he was taken off his feet and landed on his hands and knees.
"For years you tormented me, in the dark and the cold, for years you betrayed me, and I'm THE MONSTER?" It kicked him in the back, "Of course that's what you called me isn't it?" It snarled. "I was the monster. I was the curse. I was the evil. Just because if I wasn't you would have to be!"
"Do you know what you turned me into? What I became because of you!" It screeched. (Y/N) tried to draw his weapon, but for some reason, as soon as his hand wrapped around the hilt of Glimmer, he felt...wrong. "I'm starting to...get an idea." He coughed.
"I was supposed to help you. To watch over you!" It said, pain clear in it's voice. "It was all I ever wanted to do! It was my purpose. But you..." It trailed off, and then kicked him in the chest. "YOU!-"
As (Y/N) fought to regain breath, it screamed at him, trying to explain it's pain and hatred for him. as best it could. "It was too much! Too much at once! I didn't know what to do. I didn't know!" It screeched.
(Y/N) grit his teeth, he knew that now, of course he did, what he did to that spirit was unforgivable. Forcing it to feel, forcing it to in a way, exist. Expecting it to help him just because he told it to, and then punishing it for not obeying him when he needed it most.
"I know..." (Y/N) said. "I know. I'm so-" (Y/N) was slammed lengthways into one of the nearby walls of a mausoleum. As he connected with it, all the air was shaken out of (Y/N)'s lungs. Tears welled up in his eyes.
As he fell to the ground, holding his chest and wheezing, the shadow loomed over him, taunting him, "You know? You know do you? I wasn't meant to feel, I wasn't meant to suffer, or fear, or hurt! But you made me, and you...know? You know nothing!"
"THAT WAS THE POINT!" It stomped on his chest so hard (Y/N) actually felt his ribs break. "You didn't know that pain, that suffering, that worry. That anger! Because you forced it onto me! You don't know!"
"In fact, I know things that you don't, secrets that would tear you apart boy, I know what happened to your mother, I know why she chose to abandon you and this world, and I know the darkness she tried to fight against,"
"I know it runs deeper then the queen of the night. I know all your secrets, and all of hers-" "Do you know how to SHUT UP!" (Y/N) screamed back through the pain and the hot tears in his eyes, he kicked up at the creature.
It caught his leg and smiled down at him. "I haven't talked in years, I enjoy it, and (Y/N) please, we know each other better than anyone else on the planet, I know every move you'll make, don't try to fight me, you know what will happen." "You will lose." (Y/N) retorted.
The shadow just frowned at him, lifting him from the ground like it was holding a fish it caught "No, you will die, and then, I'll find all your friends and kill them. The satyrs in the city, that was my idea. Reminded you of Grover didn't it?" It smiled at him, almost proud.
(Y/N) grit his teeth. The shadow interrupted him, "Yes, get angry, that was the point. I'm taking everything from you, even your confidence, I'm going to beat you to death at your best!" It threw him aside, he landed on the ground and rose to his feet as it gloated.
"You were right to fear me all these years, the monster you kept locked away. I'm the one monster you can't kill, the one thing you can never escape. I watched you fight, I helped you fight, but now I'm free, there's nothing stopping me teaching you why you were right to fear me!"
"I let you live this long so that you could spread the good word. So your friends would be just as afraid of me as you are. But now you've broken your old man's seal on the scythe, we don't need you anymore really, I mean, we have me now."
(Y/N) took the time to heal himself, the shadow did not stop him, keen to let him recover so it could cause as much pain as possible. "We?" He caught, the shadow nodded, "Yes, the witch and the sleeping one promised me what I wanted. If I retrieve the scythe-"
"You know why Circe wants it don't you?" (Y/N) said, it chuckled, "Of course I do! She's going to use it to separate me from her, to tear me away and then I'll fade away...gone, gone, gone," "So why would you help her!" (Y/N) shouted as best he could.
"Because I don't care. I'm like you, I always was. I want what you want. Vengeance." It looked at him manically, "I'm going to kill you! Nobody else has been able to do it, nobody else could kill you like I could. Only I have the right!" It shouted as it plunged forward toward him.
Hazel's POV
"YOUR BOW!" Hazel shouted. Frank didn't ask questions. He dropped his pack and slipped the bow off his shoulder. Hazel's heart raced. She hadn't thought about this boggy soil—muskeg—since before she had died.
Now, too late, she remembered the dire warnings the locals had given her. Marshy silt and decomposed plants made a surface that looked completely solid, but it was even worse than quicksand. It could be twenty feet deep or more, and impossible to escape.
She tried not to think what would happen if it were deeper than the length of the bow. "Hold one end," she told Frank. "Don't let go." She grabbed the other end, took a deep breath, and jumped into the bog. The earth closed over her head.
Instantly, she was frozen in a memory. "Not now!" she wanted to scream. "Ella said I was done with blackouts!" "Oh, but my dear, said the voice of Gaea, this is not one of your blackouts. This is a gift from me."
Hazel was back in New Orleans. She and her mother sat in the park near their apartment, having a picnic breakfast. She remembered this day. She was seven years old. Her mother had just sold Hazel's first precious stone: a small diamond. Neither of them had yet realized Hazel's curse.
Queen Marie was in an excellent mood. She had bought orange juice for Hazel and champagne for herself, and beignets sprinkled with chocolate and powdered sugar. She'd even bought Hazel a new box of crayons and a pad of paper.
They sat together, Queen Marie humming cheerfully while Hazel drew pictures. The French Quarter woke up around them, ready for Mardi Gras. Jazz bands practiced. Floats were being decorated with fresh-cut flowers.
Children laughed and chased each other, decked in so many colored necklaces they could barely walk. The sunrise turned the sky to red gold, and the warm steamy air smelled of magnolias and roses.
It had been the happiest morning of Hazel's life. "You could stay here." Her mother smiled, but her eyes were blank white. The voice was Gaea's. "This is fake," Hazel said. She tried to get up, but the soft bed of grass made her lazy and sleepy.
The smell of baked bread and melting chocolate was intoxicating. It was the morning of Mardi Gras, and the world seemed full of possibilities. Hazel could almost believe she had a bright future.
"What is real?" asked Gaea, speaking through her mother's face. "Is your second life real, Hazel? You're supposed to be dead. Is it real that you're sinking into a bog, suffocating?" "Let me help my friend!" Hazel tried to force herself back to reality.
She could imagine her hand clenched on the end of the bow, but even that was starting to feel fuzzy. Her grip was loosening. The smell of magnolias and roses was overpowering. Her mother offered her a beignet.
"No, Hazel thought. This isn't my mother. This is Gaea tricking me." "You want your old life back," Gaea said. "I can give you that. This moment can last for years. You can grow up in New Orleans, and your mother will adore you. You'll never have to deal with the burden of your curse. You can be with Sammy—"
"It's an illusion!" Hazel said, choking on the sweet scent of flowers. "You are an illusion, Hazel Levesque. You were only brought back to life because the gods have a task for you. I may have used you, but Nico used you and lied about it. You should be glad I captured him."
"Captured?" A feeling of panic rose in Hazel's chest. "What do you mean?" Gaea smiled, sipping her champagne. "The boy should have known better than to search for the Doors. But no matter—it's not really your concern."
"Once you release Thanatos, you'll be thrown back into the Underworld to rot forever. Frank and Percy won't stop that from happening. Would real friends ask you to give up your life? Tell me who is lying, and who tells you the truth."
Hazel started to cry. Bitterness welled up inside her. She'd lost her life once. She didn't want to die again. "That's right," Gaea purred. "You were destined to marry Sammy. Do you know what happened to him after you died in Alaska?"
"He grew up and moved to Texas. He married and had a family. But he never forgot you. He always wondered why you disappeared. He's dead now—a heart attack in the nineteen-sixties. The life you could've had together always haunted him."
The feeling almost washed over her, the tiredness almost took her, the thought of Sammy going through that because of her was almost unbearable. She heard something that she thought might have been her name.
"Stop it!" Hazel screamed. "You took that from me!" "And you can have it again," Gaea said. "I have you in my embrace, Hazel. You'll die anyway. If you give up, at least I can make it pleasant for you."
"Forget saving Percy Jackson. He belongs to me. I'll keep him safe in the earth until I'm ready to use him. You can have an entire life in your final moments—you can grow up, marry Sammy. All you have to do is let go."
Hazel tightened her grip on the bow. Below her, something grabbed her ankles, but she didn't panic. She knew it was Percy, suffocating, desperately grasping for a chance at life. Hazel glared at the goddess. "I'll never cooperate with you! LET—US —GO!"
Her mother's face dissolved. The New Orleans morning melted into darkness. Hazel was drowning in mud, one hand on the bow, Percy's hands around her ankles, deep in the darkness. Hazel wiggled the end of the bow frantically.
Frank pulled her up with such force it nearly popped her arm out of the socket. When she opened her eyes, she was lying in the grass, covered in muck. Percy sprawled at her feet, coughing and spitting mud.
Frank hovered over them, yelling, "Oh, gods! Oh, gods! Oh, gods!" He yanked some extra clothes from his bag and started toweling off Hazel's face, but it didn't do much good. He dragged Percy farther from the muskeg.
"You were down there so long!" Frank cried. "I didn't think—oh, gods, don't ever do something like that again!" He wrapped Hazel in a bear hug. "Can't—breathe," she choked out. "Sorry!" Frank went back to toweling and fussing over them.
Finally he got them to the side of the road, where they sat and shivered and spit up mud clods. Hazel couldn't feel her hands. She wasn't sure if she was cold or in shock, but she managed to explain about the muskeg, and the vision she'd seen while she was under.
Not the part about Sammy—that was still too painful to say out loud—but she told them about Gaea's offer of a fake life, and the goddess' claim that she'd captured her brother Nico. Hazel didn't want to keep that to herself. She was afraid the despair would overwhelm her.
Percy rubbed his shoulders. His lips were blue. "You—you saved me, Hazel. We'll figure out what happened to Nico, I promise." Hazel squinted at the sun, which was now high in the sky. The warmth felt good, but it didn't stop her trembling.
"Does it seem like Gaea let us go too easily?" Percy plucked a mud clod from his hair. "Maybe she still wants us as pawns. Maybe she was just saying things to mess with your mind." "She knew what to say," Hazel agreed. "She knew how to get to me."
Frank put his jacket around her shoulders. "This is a real life. You know that, right? We're not going to let you die again." He sounded so determined. Hazel didn't want to argue, but she didn't see how Frank could stop Death.
She pressed her coat pocket, where Frank's half-burned firewood was still securely wrapped. She wondered what would've happened to him if she'd sunk in the mud forever. Maybe that would have saved him. Fire couldn't have gotten to the wood down there.
She would have made any sacrifice to keep Frank safe. Perhaps she hadn't always felt that strongly, but Frank had trusted her with his life. He believed in her. She couldn't bear the thought of any harm coming to him.
She glanced at the rising sun....Time was running out. She thought about Hylla, the Amazon Queen back in Seattle. Hylla would have dueled Otrera two nights in a row by now, assuming she had survived. She was counting on Hazel to release Death.
She managed to stand. The wind coming off Resurrection Bay was just as cold as she remembered. "We should get going. We're losing time." Percy gazed down the road. His lips were returning to their normal color.
"Any hotels or something where we could clean off? I mean...hotels that accept mud people?" "I'm not sure," Hazel admitted. She looked at the town below and couldn't believe how much it had grown since 1942.
The main harbor had moved east as the town had expanded. Most of the buildings were new to her, but the grid of downtown streets seemed familiar. She thought she recognized some warehouses along the shore. "I might know a place we can freshen up."
(Y/N)'s POV
It began running towards him, (Y/N) raised his hands to defend himself. Using magic to shroud them in shadow and strengthen them against the onslaught to come. The shadow lashed out at him vindictively.
(Y/N) did his best to fend the shadow off, taking note of how different it looked now to how it had when it had last attacked him, and how he remembered it from the past. "Are you possessing a Eurynomoi?" (Y/N) said, wrinkling his nose.
"That is gross. I'd rather just be a spirit, the thing is falling apart." He said, gesturing to the arms of the creature, which were held on by tendons alone. It looked like a withered and ghoulish humanoid, but that was being generous.
Oh and the smell, for the love of the gods the smell. (Y/N) had been in Scylla's cave, he had been in a few harpy dens. He even caught a whiff of the flesh eating horse stables, but this was horrible beyond compare, a smell so bad you could taste it, and the taste was worse than a sewage grate sandwich.
"Good gods. Someone forget the embalming fluid or something?" (Y/N) thought as his stomach churned. The normally white glassy eyed creature smirked with it's cracked and crooked teeth and its eyes shone gold.
"Don't worry (Y/N)." the shadow said, "I'm about to get a replacement!" It rushed towards him. (Y/N) held out a hand to burn the monster, but it jumped into the air, (Y/N) heard the creature's knees crack as it did.
He dove to one side to avoid being crushed like a poor turtle in a retro game. He used the shadows around his hands to rake his fingers across the creatures stomach, only to wish he hadn't, as he exposed the green flesh beneath the grey skin.
As it jumped back, trying to hold itself together, it said "Eurynomoi. No I'm not Eurynomoi, I just needed something to kill you with. Do you know what I am now (Y/N)?" (Y/N) wiped away his tears of disgust, shaking his head. "Cacodemon" was all it said, swiping at him with it's claws.
(Y/N) had heard that term before, during the war maybe, "A cocoa demon?" (Y/N) said, imagining a guy with horns serving coffee and up charging a lot. The manifestation of a person's worst memories, his body told him, as if he had always known.
He recalled seeing Nyx using them in the past, "Those things are alive?" He thought, shuddering. "I thought they were Nyx's weird form of entertainment." He shivered as he remembered the countless times he had seen the queen of the night playing with creatures that looked like abominations.
"That's right! I'm your worst nightmare!" The shadow said. (Y/N) would have retorted, but he had to use all his focus to avoid being turned into the worlds most handsome salami slices. Even as big s it was, this thing was fast.
It had none of the normal limiters on it's body that a normal possessed body would to avoid damaging itself, since it was a spirit that had invaded a corpse. So it wasn't fazed when (Y/N) kicked its knee backwards and just kept speaking.
"I always hated you boy, even before any of this, do you know why?" It asked as it sprang back into the air and swept at him with it's claws, (Y/N) both avoided the attack and landed one of his own with a fortunate crescent kick that kept the shadow at bay.
As it rushed in it was knocked to the floor by the blow to the head and skittered away like an injured spider. As it held it's skull, it split apart from the damage, cracking like an egg near the temple, (Y/N) turned his head to retch, a normally deadly mistake.
The shadow was too busy talking and trying to put it's head together to capitalize on the opening. It spoke as it literally held it's own head together. A black ooze bubbled out of it.
"It's because you never did anything with the time you had. Sitting there watching the fake lives of actors and great heroes when you should have been raging against the unfair world, you should have fought the gods long before you finally did."
It let go of it's head to instead place it's bloodstained fingers on the center of it's twisted chest. "I know why you shut yourself away child, I am probably the only one who truly understood why you despaired for all those years. But you just sat and wallowed in self pity. The prince of the dead, a coward for so many years."
"Every night you feared him, and every day you fought him, but you were still too weak to realize your true potential, too afraid to act. Always running away, always hiding from what you were. What you were born to be!"
"Nyx tried to tell you, Kronos tried to tell you, Zeus saw it and so did everyone else, you were just too afraid to accept it for yourself. So you forced it on me! You needed to grow up! I think Hades did you a favor when he killed your mother." It smirked.
"Nasty thing, illness like that, it can creep up on you if you aren't careful. Saps you of all your strength, and then before you know it, you slip away. One minute you're healthy, the next well...you know all about it don't you?" He taunted, "Rough way to go. He did her a favor!"
Suddenly an image hit (Y/N) like he was experiencing it for the first time again. It was such a simple memory, one that had resurfaced once he had become whole, an image of his mother smiling at him as the two of them watched a movie together lying on her bed.
(Y/N) went into an absolute rage, not even thinking about it, he didn't draw his weapons, he would never have, he couldn't explain why, this place felt different, even from the church he was attacked in a few hours ago.
Still, he attacked, launching punch after punch at the shadow, who just slipped by them with ease, either with his speed or magic. Knowing this was getting him nowhere, (Y/N) lashed out with a spinning back kick, the ghost just caught his leg with its claws, digging them deep into his calf.
(Y/N) was so angry he didn't care, so before the monster could do anything worse than shred his jeans, he jumped up with his other leg and threw out another kick, leaving him in the air, this one did connect, hitting the shadow so hard it's jaw dislodged.
Still it remained unfazed and before (Y/N) could regain his balance it caught his other leg, but rather than shred it, the shadow opted to use (Y/N)'s momentum from the kick to launch him to the side.
Luckily, in doing so, he sent (Y/N) towards his father's scythe. For a moment, in his anger, (Y/N) forgot his normal reservations about weapons on hallowed ground. He pulled the weapon free of the gravestone it was embedded in.
It felt light. His whole body felt a rush of cold, his eyes burned with power and he immediately felt strong, he glared at the shadow, ready to destroy it in one slash, until a feeling passed by him.
He remembered his promise to Nico, he remembered that horrible feeling of dread in the air as he searched for Bianca, and he remembered the shadow's threats of killing everyone he cared for.
His vision was suddenly invaded with the sight of Hazel, who was in somewhere dark and crushing, she wasn't breathing, she was about to die. She was going to drown, Alaska. Percy was with her, he would suffocate, they needed help
With all that in his mind, he shouted "HAZEL!" As if he expected her voice to somehow reach out and save her, even though he couldn't. In his distracted state, the shadow took the initiative, punching (Y/N). Shredding his shirt in the process
His grip was released, he flew backwards, tumbling over a tombstone and landing on his head. He felt dizzy, and fresh blood pooled around him as the shadow continued to taunt him. "Oh, that's the dead one yes?" The creature said.
"I was thinking about killing her first. I want to see the boy lose his mind with anger. Like you." "I wonder what's worse. Watching me kill your friends. Or dying knowing that I'm going to kill them?" It asked as it stared down at him with contempt.
"Maybe I'll get Circe to raise you again and do both!" It said, as it walked towards the space where (Y/N) had dropped the scythe, (Y/N) tried to move but found himself unable to.
Hazel's POV
When they got into town, Hazel followed the same route she'd used seventy years ago—the last night of her life, when she'd come home from the hills and found her mother missing. She led her friends along Third Avenue.
The railroad station was still there. The big white two-story Seward Hotel was still in business, though it had expanded to twice its old size. They thought about stopping there, but Hazel didn't think it would be a good idea to traipse into the lobby covered in mud, nor was she sure the hotel would give a room to three minors.
Instead, they turned toward the shoreline. Hazel couldn't believe it, but her old home was still there, leaning over the water on barnacle-encrusted piers. The roof sagged. The walls were perforated with holes like buckshot.
The door was boarded-up, and a hand-painted sign read: ROOMS—STORAGE—AVAILABLE. "Come on," she said. "Uh, you sure it's safe?" Frank asked. Hazel found an open window and climbed inside. Her friends followed.
The room hadn't been used in a long time. Their feet kicked up dust that swirled in the buckshot beams of sunlight. Mouldering cardboard boxes were stacked along the walls. Their faded labels read: Greeting Cards, Assorted Seasonal.
Why several hundred boxes of season's greetings had wound up crumbling to dust in a warehouse in Alaska, Hazel had no idea, but it felt like a cruel joke: as if the cards were for all the holidays she'd never gotten to celebrate—decades of Christmases, Easters, birthdays, Valentine's Days.
"It's warmer in here, at least," Frank said. "Guess no running water? Maybe I can go shopping. I'm not as muddy as you guys. I could find us some clothes." Hazel only half heard him.
She climbed over a stack of boxes in the corner that used to be her sleeping area. An old sign was propped against the wall: GOLD PROSPECTING SUPPLIES.
She thought she'd find a bare wall behind it, but when she moved the sign, most of her photos and drawings were still pinned there. The sign must have protected them from sunlight and the elements.
They seemed not to have aged. Her crayon drawings of New Orleans looked so childish. Had she really made them? Her mother stared out at her from one photograph, smiling in front of her business sign: QUEEN MARIE'S GRIS-GRIS—CHARMS SOLD, FORTUNES TOLD.
Next to that was a photo of Sammy at the carnival. He was frozen in time with his crazy grin, his curly black hair, and those beautiful eyes. If Gaea was telling the truth, Sammy had been dead for over forty years.
Had he really remembered Hazel all that time? Or had he forgotten the peculiar girl he used to go riding with—the girl who shared one kiss and a birthday cupcake with him before disappearing forever?
Frank's fingers hovered over the photo. "Who...?" He saw that she was crying and clamped back his question. "Sorry, Hazel. This must be really hard. Do you want some time—" "No," she croaked.
"No, it's fine." "Is that your mother?" Percy pointed to the photo of Queen Marie. "She looks like you. She's beautiful." Then Percy studied the picture of Sammy. "Who is that?" Hazel didn't understand why he looked so spooked.
"That's...that's Sammy. He was my—uh—friend from New Orleans." She forced herself not to look at Frank. "I've seen him before," Percy said. "You couldn't have," Hazel said. "That was in 1941. He's...he's probably dead now."
Percy frowned. "I guess. Still..." He shook his head, like the thought was too uncomfortable. Frank cleared his throat. "Look, we passed a store on the last block. We've got a little money left."
"Maybe I should go get you guys some food and clothes and—I don't know—a hundred boxes of wet wipes or something?" Hazel put the gold prospecting sign back over her mementos. She felt guilty even looking at that old picture of Sammy, with Frank trying to be so sweet and supportive.
It didn't do her any good to think about her old life. "That would be great," she said. "You're the best, Frank." The floorboards creaked under his feet. "Well...I'm the only one not completely covered in mud, anyway. Be back soon."
Once he was gone, Percy and Hazel made temporary camp. They took off their jackets and tried to scrape off the mud. They found some old blankets in a crate and used them to clean up. They discovered that boxes of greeting cards made pretty good places to rest if you arranged them like mattresses.
Percy set his sword on the floor where it glowed with a faint bronze light. Then he stretched out on a bed of Merry Christmas 1982. "Thank you for saving me," he said. "I should've told you that earlier."
Hazel shrugged. "You would have done the same for me." "Yes," he agreed. "But when I was down in the mud, I remembered that line from Ella's prophecy—about the son of Neptune drowning. I thought. 'This is what it means. I'm drowning in the earth.' I was sure I was dead."
His voice quavered like it had his first day at Camp Jupiter, when Hazel had shown him the shrine of Neptune. Back then she had wondered if Percy was the answer to her problems—the descendant of Neptune that Pluto had promised would take away her curse someday.
Percy had seemed so intimidating and powerful, like a real hero. Only now, she knew that Frank was a descendant of Neptune, too. Frank wasn't the most impressive-looking hero in the world, but he'd trusted her with his life.
He tried so hard to protect her. Even his clumsiness was endearing. She'd never felt more confused—and since she had spent her whole life confused, that was saying a lot. "Percy," she said, "that prophecy might not have been complete. Frank thought Ella was remembering a burned page. Maybe you'll drown someone else."
He looked at her cautiously. "You think so?" Hazel felt strange reassuring him. He was so much older, and more in command. But she nodded confidently. "You're going to make it back home. You're going to see your girlfriend."
"You'll make it back, too, Hazel," he insisted. "We're not going to let anything happen to you. You're too valuable to me, to the camp, and especially to Frank." Hazel picked up an old valentine. The lacy white paper fell apart in her hands.
"I don't belong in this century. Nico only brought me back so I could correct my mistakes, maybe get into Elysium." "There's more to your destiny than that," he said. "We're supposed to fight Gaea together."
"I'm going to need you at my side way longer than just today. And Frank—you can see the guy is crazy about you. This life is worth fighting for, Hazel." She closed her eyes. "Please, don't get my hopes up. I can't—"
The window creaked open. Frank climbed in, triumphantly holding some shopping bags. "Success!" He showed off his prizes. From a hunting store, he'd gotten a new quiver of arrows for himself, some rations, and a coil of rope.
"For the next time we run across muskeg," he said. From a local tourist shop, he had bought three sets of fresh clothes, some towels, some soap, some bottled water, and, yes, a huge box of wet wipes.
It wasn't exactly a hot shower, but Hazel ducked behind a wall of greeting card boxes to clean up and change. Soon she was feeling much better. This is your last day, she reminded herself. Don't get too comfortable.
The Feast of Fortuna—all the luck that happened today, good or bad, was supposed to be an omen of the entire year to come. One way or another, their quest would end this evening. She slipped the piece of driftwood into her new coat pocket.
Somehow, she'd have to make sure it stayed safe, no matter what happened to her. She could bear her own death as long as her friends survived. "So," she said. "Now we find a boat to Hubbard Glacier."
"How are we-" 'Crash!' Something landed in the middle of the room, something fast, something...shirtless. All three of them drew their weapons this time, "Ouch." (Y/N) said, as he plucked a part of 'Generational Greeting Cards 1997' from his back.
"Sup guys what'd I-Ahhh!" He said as Frank shot an arrow towards his head. Percy struck down with Riptide, (Y/N) yelped and rolled to one side, off the pile of greeting cards and onto the floor. "Gross..." He said as he took note of the mud on the floor.
(Y/N) shot to his feet, they remained cautious, but didn't attack, he looked around. "Why does it smell like a horse stable in here and-" "Who are you!" Hazel demanded, "Oh no, I've been momento'd."
"My name is (Y/N) (L/N), I'm your friend, and oh my gods Hazel I'm so glad you're okay, Nico would never let me live it down if you died." Percy sighed and sat down. "It's him." He said.
"How can you be sure?" Frank said in a fierce tone, Percy sighed, "He isn't wearing a shirt." (Y/N) nodded, "It's a whole thing." They lowered their weapons. "How do we know we can trust you?" Hazel said, keeping her weapon out.
(Y/N) shrugged, "I dunno, I have this thing?" He said, holding up something in his hand, which Hazel had originally mistaken for a spear. Hazel thought her heart may have stopped right then, as she looked at the blade.
Her whole body felt numb, her mouth went dry. The stygian iron scythe, as weird as it was, felt like it was staring at her. Just by seeing it, Hazel felt like at any moment it may just slice right through her.
She looked at (Y/N), who was smiling at her, but she could only focus on his eyes, burning and golden, her whole body tensed, her first instinct was to run. She thought he may have come here killed her, until he said. "Frank can you pass me a shirt?"
She was snapped back to reality as he said "Actually, throw it to me, Its probably not a good idea to touch me right now, my powers are dialed up to like, twenty six." The tension was broken when a muddy shirt hit him in the face.
She was too shocked to speak as he dropped the weapon and pulled it off his face "What was that for!" He said angrily, Frank answered, but she didn't hear what he said. Again, she focused on the scythe.
Then she looked at (Y/N) as he threw the shirt over himself, then sighed as he realized it was on backwards. She looked down and took note of his chest. "Levesque. I do have eyes y'know." He smirked.
"Sorry." She said quickly. "Is' cool. So, anybody want to fill me in?" He asked, they tried their best to fill him in on what happened to him, leaving out some more embarrassing moments like their hiding place from the gryphons.
He just nodded, "Yeah, Circe wishes she was as cool as me, she's tried that trick before." "What have you been doing? Where were you?" Frank asked him, (Y/N) shrugged, "I was in New Orleans getting that thing "
She looked over to see that he had indented the blade into a cabin wall to keep it propped up, and hung the shredded remains his spare shirt over it. The thought made her chuckle.
One of the most powerful weapons ever made, able to kill anything with a single slash and sever souls from the land of the living, and (Y/N) was using it as a clothes hanger. The thought made her laugh, and sort of comforted her, it took some of the mystery from the weapon away.
"Is that how you got here?" She asked, he nodded, "Well, that and the help of a little gris gris, it's a long story. You see, I knew I couldn't let the shadow get the scythe, but I couldn't move, so I tried something crazy.-"