IT'S FUNNY HOW humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told Percy that long ago. He didn't appreciate his wisdom until much later.
According to L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.
This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a Ares) was the same man who abducted Percy and three other adolescents in New York and brought them across the country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.
Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't a national criminal, after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterwards, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on this bus– "Why didn't I remember him before?")
The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St Louis Arch. After all, no kids could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo and notified the police.
Finally, brave Percy Jackson (Loralai was starting to like this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred.
Percy Jackson and his three friends (Loralai didn't like the friends part, they were co-workers at the most, but it helped their case) were safely in police custody.
The reporters fed them the whole story. They just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't that hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras.
"All I want," Percy said, choking back tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew... somehow... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number."
The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around a hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York.
Loralai knew there was no choice but to fly. She hoped Zeus would cut them some slack, considering the circumstances.
It was still hard for them to get on the flight. Loralai had to drag Percy by his shirt through the gate because he was taking too long. When onlookers looked concerned she just called out tearfully, "Trauma." The other passengers nodded sympathetically, recognizing him from the media.
Takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. Percy didn't unclench his hands from the armrests until they touched down safely at LaGuardia.
The local press was waiting for them outside security, but they managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!", then rejoined them at baggage claim.
They split in half at the taxi stand. Percy told Loralai, Grover and Annabeth to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. Loralai quickly rebuked this, saying that she needed to see her father. The others protested, too, but eventually they decided that Percy and Loralai needed to do the last part of the quest themselves.
If things went wrong and the gods didn't believe him... he wanted Annabeth and Grover to survive to tell Chiron the truth. And, truthfully yet hesitantly, Percy thought that Loralai had enough spark to defend him against all of them Olympians.
They hopped into a taxi and headed into Manhattan.
Thirty minutes later, Loralai and Percy strolled into the lobby of the Empire State building.
They must've looked like a couple of homeless kids, with their tattered clothes and their scraped-up faces. They hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours, and being "dead" for a lot of those hours really added to Percy's look.
Loralai strutted up to the guard at the front desk and said, "Six-hundredth floor, please."
He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. She wasn't much into fantasy, but the book must've been good, because the guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddo," he told her.
Percy gently nudged Loralai to the side, slamming his hands down on the desk harder than he intended and declared, "We need an audience with Zeus."
"And Hephaestus, if it's possible, sir," Loralai chimed from behind the boy, annoyed that he had nudged her away from the desk.
He gave the boy a vacant smile. "Sorry?"
The two exchanged looks. They were about to decide that this guy was a regular mortal, and that they'd better run for it before he called the straitjacket patrol, when he said, "No appointment, no audience, kiddos. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."
"Oh, I think he'll make an exception." Percy slipped off his backpack and unzipped the top.
The guard looked inside at the metal cylinder, not getting what it was for a few seconds. Then his face went pale. "That isn't..."
"Yes, it is," Percy promised. "You want me to take it out and–"
"No! No!" He scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, then handed it to Percy. "Insert this into the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."
Percy did as the man told him. As soon as the elevator door closed, both of them inside and no one else, he slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared and a new button appeared on the console, a red one that said 600. The boy pressed it and they waited, and waited.
Loralai coughed awkwardly. "Excited for this to be done with?" she asked. Percy yawned and mumbled tiredly, "I guess."
Muzak played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head..."
Finally, ding. The doors slid open. They stepped out and almost had a heart attack.
They were standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below them was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of them, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. Loralai's eyes followed the stairway to its end, and struggled to believe what she was seeing.
From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summer covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multi leveled palaces– a city of mansions– all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires.
Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebush, she could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must've looked twenty-five years ago.
Loralai was still trying to grasp her reality. For years, she dreamed of being claimed, of being more likely to be picked to go on quests because of it, to have a family, and, finally, to be able to visit Olympus at a solstice.
Looking at the architecture, it was amazing to Loralai how Annabeth had survived her trip here without completely dying from a heart attack. Her little wannabe engineer heart was beating so fast, she thought she might have one.
There were dozens of what looked like mini hot air balloons flying around delivering packages, with little angel wings on the sides. Must've been Hermes doing, she guessed. Machines were everywhere, perfectly fit for their purpose, perfectly designed to blend in. Loralai felt as though she might explode.
Their trip through Olympus was a daze. They passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at Percy from their garden. Hawkers in the market offered to sell them ambrosia-on-a-stick, and a new shield, and a genuine glitter-weave replica, as seen on Hephaestus-TV.
The nine muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered– satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who might've been minor gods and goddesses. Nobody seemed worried about the impending civil war. In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch them pass, and whispered to themselves.
They climbed the main road, towards the big palace at the peak. It was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld. There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver.
With a pang in her chest, Loralai came to the conclusion that Hades must've built his palace to resemble this one. He wasn't welcomed in Olympus except on winter solstice, so he'd built his own Olympus underground.
Despite his somewhat bad first impression as a grandfather, Loralai felt truly sorry for him. To be banished from doing his job... It seemed pretty unfair. It would make anybody bitter.
Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.
Room really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom closet. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.
Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit.
The gods like using fire as decoration a lot. It was weird, but Loralai almost felt sorry for every flame that was forced to put on a show and look pretty.
The thrones were empty except for three.
Loralai's hands shook as she stared up at her father, in his giant human form. Hephaestus, the God of artisans, blacksmiths, carpenters, craftsmen, fire, metallurgy, metalworking, sculpting and volcanoes was strong. His arms were dotted with various scars, his skin tan and wrinkly from working in the sun.
He was wearing a leathery toga, with sandals to match. Loralai had a feeling that there were hidden compartments in his clothing, filled with mechanics because there was a faint whirring sound if she focused hard enough.
He had unruly and unkempt hair sprouting from his chin, a scruffy beard. His thinning hair was brown, like the rest of his hair, and went to the right where his shoulders ended.
Bushy eyebrows framed his dark eyes and Greek nose. From this angle of inferiority, he looked menacing, but it was just her dad.
Loralai hated to admit it, considering she was his daughter, but he resembled a remarkably buff caveman. She was glad her mother was responsible for most of her looks.
The throne he sat on was a La-Z-Boy type design, splattered with various metals such as silver and bronze. Loralai figured out where the whirring was from: millions of gears turning with secrets and mechanics, each probably with their own purpose.
Her father reciprocated her fluttering gaze for a moment, a glint of sadness that Loralai just caught in his eyes, before glancing at Zeus, who was glaring at Percy.
Zeus, the Lord of the Gods, wore a dark blue, pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and a black like storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray.
As Percy got closer to him, the air crackled and smelled of ozone.
The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He reminded her of a tourist on holiday. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was jet black, like Percy's. His face had that same brooding look that always had got him branded as a rebel. But his eyes, see green like Percy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that told her he smiled a lot, too.
The three gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument. Loralai's feet were stuck to the floor, staring up at her father in awe. She wondered if all the gears in his throne had a specific purpose. Was one of them especially made to get him a drink of his choice? Right now, it seemed like that drink would be straight vodka.
Percy approached the fisherman's throne and knelt at his feet. "Father." He dared not look. His heart was racing. The energy emanating from the two gods was almost overwhelming. If Percy said the wrong thing, he had no doubt they could blast him into dust.
Loralai tucked her lips in at his gesture, looking at Zeus nervously. Annabeth had gone through 'throne room etiquette' with her.
To Percy's left, Zeus spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?" Stupidly, Percy kept his head down, and waited. Loralai stepped forward and knelt. "Lord Zeus."
The two waited on their knees. "Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. "The boy defers to his father. This is only right."
Loralai wondered if they'd ever stop talking so that she could meet her father. But she figured they didn't care too much about a family reunion when there was a potential war at hand.
"You still claim him then?" Zeus asked acutely. "You claim this child whom you sired against our sacred oath?"
"I have admitted my wrongdoing," Poseidon said. "Now I would hear him speak."
Wrongdoing.
Loralai glanced at Percy, who was trying to hide that one word hadn't brought a lump to his throat. It almost made her forget that the gods hadn't acknowledged her once.
She wanted to say something, but it wasn't really her role in all of this. Her role was to meet her father, that's it. Suddenly, she felt like a burden.
"I have spared him once already, and the girl," Zeus grumbled, glaring at Hephaestus for a second. "Daring to fly through my domain... pah! I should have blasted them out of the sky for their impudence."
"And risk destroying your own master bolt, father?" Hephaestus inquired calmly. Poseidon took the opportunity of support and said, "Let us hear him out brother."
Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall make my mind up on whether or not to cast this boy down from Olympus."
Hephaestus frowned. "My daughter is here," he reminded him. Zeus squinted and said sharply, "An accomplice. I will decide on the same."
Loralai knew her father had the right idea, reminding him that she was there, but it had completely gone the wrong direction. Now she was being lumped with Percy.
"Perseus," Poseidon said. "Look at me."
Percy looked up. Loralai couldn't read his emotions, it was a mix of confusion and disappointment, like he'd expected the god to give him a gold medal or a bear hug.
Hephaestus declared, "My daughter, you may look, as well."
Hesitantly, Loralai looked up. That warm, familiar glow from her dream beamed in her stomach. Her breath hitched. She saw a serious expression, nothing like approval etched on his features. She wondered if he was actually angry that she and Percy had outsmarted him, or if it was just the stress of the potential war causing a wrinkle in his brow.
In a way, she was grateful for it. If he'd apologized to her for ignoring her all those years, or leaving her alone with her unfit mother, or made some other boring excuse as to why he wasn't around, it'd feel plastic. Still, if he did, Loralai was sure she wouldn't be able to contain her rage.
"Address Lord Zeus, boy," Poseidon told Percy. "Tell him your story."
So Percy told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. Well, Loralai interjected for some key details. He was talking so fast he almost missed mentioning Kronos.
He took the metal cylinder, which began sparkling in the Sky God's presence, and laid it at his feet.
There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.
Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a five-meter javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on Loralai's scalp rise.
"I sense the children tell the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing... it is most unlike him."
"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon remarked. "It runs in the family."
"Lord?" Percy asked.
Both Zeus and Poseidon said, "Yes?" Loralai was glad her dad was at least a little more socially aware than these two.
"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else– something else– came up with the idea."
Percy described his dreams, and the feeling he'd had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world and made Ares back off from killing him.
"In the dreams," Percy said, "the voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start war."
Loralai gulped. The momentary breath of evil, as Percy described it. Breath... it hadn't been her grandfather, Hades.
"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked.
"No," Percy said quickly, glancing warily back at Loralai who had her arms crossed. "I mean, Lord Zeus, I've been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit. That was the entrance to Tartarus, wasn't it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there... something even older than the gods."
Loralai stepped forward. "Lord Zeus, he's right. I've felt this feeling inside and outside of dreams. It, well... talked to me at camp. I think Ares was hearing its voice, being directed to do things."
Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in ancient Greek. Hephaestus joined in, muttering some words so quick Loralai couldn't even distinguish except for one: grandfather.
Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily. "We will speak of this no more," Zeus said in English. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."
He rose and looked at Percy. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished much."
"I had help, sir," Percy said. "Loralai Fotia, Grover Underworld and Annabeth Chase–"
The god cut him off, but Loralai was grateful for Percy trying, "To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life and the girls. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."
"Um... thank you, sir."
"Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt; it shall be your last sensation."
Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.
The two, Loralai and Percy, were left alone in the throne room with their fathers. "Your uncle, Poseidon sighed, looking at Percy, "has always had a flair for dramatic exits. I think he would've done well as the god of theater."
An uncomfortable silence.
"Father," Loralai asked, "what was in that pit?"
Hephaestus regarded her. "You have not guessed?"
She had a theory, but it was daunting for her to say aloud, "Kronos. The king of the Titans."
Even in the throne room of Olympus, far away from Tartarus, the name Kronos darkened the room, making the hearth fire seem not quite so warm on her neck.
Poseidon gripped his trident and Hephaestus scrunched his fingers around his hammer tighter.
"In the first war, Percy," Zeus said, "Zeus cut out father, Kronos, into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had done to his own father, Ouranos. Zeus cast Kronos' remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The Titan army was scattered, their mountain fortress on Etna destroyed, their monstrous allies driven to the furthest corners of the earth. And yet Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can. Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive in some hideous way, still conscious in his eternal pain, still hungering for power.
"He's healing," Percy said. "He's coming back."
Poseidon shook his head. "From time to time, over the eons, Kronos has stirred. He enters men's nightmares and breathes evil thoughts. He awakens restless monsters from the depths. But to suggest he could ever rise from the pit is another thing."
"That's what he intends, Father. That's what he said."
Poseidon was silent for a long time.
"Lord Zeus has closed discussion on this matter," Hephaestus declared. "He will not allow talk of Kronos."
Poseidon nodded. "You have completed your quest; that is all you need to do," he agreed. "But–" Percy stopped himself, arguing against two gods would do no good. It would possibly anger the only god who he had on his side.
"As... you wish father," Percy forced himself to say. A faint smile played on Poseidon's lips. "Obedience does not come naturally to you, does it?"
"No... sir."
"I must take some blame for that, I suppose. The sea does not like to be restrained." He rose to his full height and took up his trident. Then he shimmered and came to the side of a regular man, standing directly in front of Percy. Loralai tried not to eavesdrop as they converse. All she caught was, "You must go, your mother has returned."
Hephaestus did the same, grabbing his hammer and shrinking in front of Loralai. "You did well out besting me, my daughter," he said. Loralai furrowed her brows, she wasn't interested in compliments. The man had a hint of sadness as he looked into his daughter's eyes. "I had my reasons for..." his voice trailed off.
There was silence, apart from the faint talking between Percy and Poseidon.
"You are strong, Loralai," Hephaestus finally said. "This has made you stronger."
Loralai swallowed the growing lump in her throat. "I was just a kid. Did I really need to be stronger?"
Hephaestus smiled sympathetically, changing the topic. "Your mother was uncontrollable when she took off the necklace... you will have more difficulties if you keep on wearing it," he advised. Before Loralai had time to respond, he said, "And your sword's name is Blackfire. I sent it to you, so don't go acting like I was ignoring you the whole time."
Loralai frowned, glancing down at her belt where the leather of her sword was poking out. "Thanks," she mumbled. Before she knew it, Hephaestus had Blackfire in his hands. The blade began to change colors, from the pinkish bronze to a dark black.
"This will help you more," he insisted. "Stygian iron."
Nodding, Loralai took back the sword when he offered it, placing it in her belt. "Thank you, father. I..." Hephaestus raised a brow, urging her to finish. "I'm glad I'm your daughter," she finally said.
The Blacksmith smiled warmly. "I am glad you are my daughter," he replied. Of course, he couldn't say that without a few ominous words, "But you ought to be careful, with everything."
Loralai nodded again, slowly and carefully as silence yet again fell between them. Her father's gaze softened. "You have the best qualities of your mother," he said. Loralai inhaled sharply at the compliment.
She hadn't even remembered that he had probably loved her mom, too. And that 'probably' turned into 'definitely' when he said, "I will spend eons searching for a spirit and love like hers again."
Loralai was speechless. She hadn't really grasped how much gods could love mortals until now; until she saw that look in his eye, desperate and longing. "You are a brave and fierce daughter of mine. You will do well, Loralai."
Loralai watched Percy turn around and begin to leave. Hurriedly, she said, "Goodbye, dad." She wanted to give him a hug or something, despite their rollercoaster of a father-daughter relationship, but Percy was a fast walker.
They were five steps away when Poseidon called, "Perseus."
Percy turned. There was a light in his father's eyes, a fiery kind of pride. "You did well, Perseus. Do not misunderstand me. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine. You are a true son of the Sea god."
As they walked back through the city of the gods, conversations stopped. The muses paused their concert. People and satyrs and naiads all turned towards them, their faces filled with respect and gratitude and, as they passed, they knelt, as if they were some kind of hero.
-
PERCY HAD TO visit his mom. He had urged her to go ahead to camp, but Loralai said that it'd be best for them to travel in pairs, especially since they were obviously now well-known and someone who wanted the war might go after them.
So, here she was, ten minutes later, standing outside the door of Percy's apartment. Percy rang the doorbell, and there she was, Sally Jackson. Loralai thought she was beautiful, something Percy had not inherited. She looked nice, too, engulfing her son in an air-crushing hug as she exclaimed, "Oh thank goodness. Oh, my baby."
Loralai felt awkward standing there, but smiled. The two stood in the hallway as Sally cried and ran her hands through Percy's hair.
After a few moments, she looked at Loralai. "And you must be..."
"Loralai," she said. "Um, I helped Percy with his quest."
Sally looked like she had registered something, glancing at Percy. "Oh, well, I'm glad you are friends now," she said, then gave her a warm hug.
Going red, Percy mumbled an embarrassed, "We're not, mom." But Loralai didn't say anything. Technically, she didn't think they were friends, just quest mates, but she couldn't exactly say anything to Sally.
It felt foreign, being hugged by a mother, if Loralai wasn't so worn out, she would've burst out into tears.
"Thank you for helping my boy," Sally mumbled into her shoulder then pulled away with a grin. "It's no problem, Mrs. Jackson," Loralai replied, smirking. "He really needed it."
Percy rolled his eyes. "Whatever."
"Oh, call me Sally, Loralai," Sally insisted, chuckling at the two.
The three entered the apartment. Loralai was hesitant, but Sally insisted she come in. As soon as they stepped foot through the door, Percy's step-father was calling out commands to Sally like a dog.
Sally told Percy that he'd been receiving half a million phone calls all day, something about free appliances. Loralai hid her smile, from how Gabe was talking to Sally, she understood why Percy thought he deserved it.
Throughout his and Percy's interaction Gabe mocked him, mocked Sally, mocked his friends, threatened to call the police, got angry when Sally said 'no', then complained that he had to return Sally's life insurance money.
Quickly, Sally directed the kids to Percy's room, her hands shaking. "What a jerk," Loralai mumbled when they were alone. Looking around, she scanned Percy's room. It was messy, with painted blue walls and a twin sized bed. There was a window that had a fire escape out of it, but it was looking straight at a wall.
It looked like Gabe had thrown a trash can in here. There were beer cans, random cards everywhere. The room reeked of Percy's step father.
Loralai tuned into their conversation. "Mom, it'll never work out. Not as long as Gabe's here," Percy was saying to his mom. She wrung her hands nervously. "I can... I'll take you to work with me for the rest of the summer. In the autumn, maybe there's another boarding school–"
"Mom."
She lowered her eyes. "I'm trying, Percy. I just... I need some time."
Loralai's eyes flickered over to Percy's bed. She could've sworn that it wasn't there before. A familiar large battered cardboard box was sitting on Percy's sheets. The address on the mailing slip was in Percy's handwriting:
The Gods
Mount Olympus
600th Floor,
Empire State Building
New York, NY
With best wishes,
PERCY JACKSON
Over the top in black marker, in a man's clear bold print, was another address, and the words: RETURN TO SENDER.
Suddenly Percy understood what Poseidon had told him on Olympus. A package. A decision.
Loralai and Percy exchanged a knowing look. Percy looked back at his mother. "Mom, do you want Gabe gone?"
"Percy, it isn't that simple–"
"Mrs. Jack– Sally. It is that simple. He's a total douche. Do you want him gone?" Loralai chimed in, standing behind the box.
"Yes, I do. And I'm trying to get up my courage to tell him. But you guys can't do this for me. You can't solve my problems."
Percy looked at the box. They could solve her problem. He wanted to slice that package open, plop it on the poker table, and take out what was inside of him. He could start his own statue garden, right there in the living room.
That's what a Greek hero would do. A month ago, Percy would have hesitated, now...
"I can do it," Percy told his mom. "One look inside this box, and he'll never bother you again.
She glanced at the package, and seemed to understand immediately. "No, Percy," she said, stepping away. "You can't."
"Poseidon called you a queen," he told her. "He said he hadn't met a woman like you in a thousand years."
Her cheeks flushed. "Percy–"
"You deserve better than this, Mom. You should go to college, get your degree. You can write your novel, meet a nice guy maybe, live in a nice house. You don't need to protect me anymore by staying with Gabe. Let me get rid of him."
She wiped a tear off her cheek. "You sound so much like your father," she said. "He offered to stop the tide for me once. He offered to build me a palace at the bottom of the sea. He thought he could save all my problems with a wave of a hand."
"What's wrong with that?"
Her multicolored eyes seemed to search inside him. "I think you know, Percy. I think you're enough like me to understand. If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself. I can't let a god take care of me... or my son. I have to... find the courage on my own. Your quest has reminded me of that."
Sally weakly smiled in Loralai's direction and she managed to offer once back, still standing near the package. They listened to the sound of poker chips, swearing and ESPN from the living-room television.
"I'll leave the box," Percy decided. "If he threatens you..."
She looked pale, but she nodded. "Where will you and Loralai go, Percy?"
"Half-Blood Hill."
"For the summer... or forever?" Sally asked Percy.
"I guess that depends."
The mother and son locked eyes, and he sensed they had an agreement. They would see how things stood at the end of the summer. She kissed Percy's forehead. "You'll be a hero, Percy. You'll be the greatest of all."
Loralai smiled faintly watching them interact. Sally truly loved her boy.
Percy took one look around his bedroom. He had a feeling he'd never see it again. "Ready to go?" Loralai assumed. Percy nodded, and they walked with Sally to the front door.
"Leaving so soon, punk?" Gabe called after him. "Good riddance."
Percy's steps faltered, he had one last twinge of doubt. How could he turn down the perfect chance to take revenge on him? He was leaving here without saving his mother.
"Hey, Sally," he yelled. "What about that meat loaf, huh?"
A steely look of anger flashed in the woman's eyes, and Percy thought that just maybe he was leaving her in good hands. Her own.
Loralai pitched her head, looking at Sally with clear advice. "Good luck, Sally," she said. "Thank you for having me." The mother smiled.
She then called out to Gabe, "The meatloaf is coming right up, dear."
"Meat loaf surprise," she clarified. She looked at the two and winked.
The last thing they saw, as the door swung closed was Percy's mother staring at Gabe, as if she were contemplating how he would look as a garden statue.
-
(a/n)
- thank you so much for 1k reads!!!!!
- ok double chapter writing today, but i will upload the final chapter for act 1 tomorrow (schedule) because i need to get this b finished. i have a one week hiatus next week bc im going on a roadtrip with my family, but act one will be finished before then.
- so excited to get into the sea of monsters nextttt
- if there are any mistakes please tell me bc i had a late night and an early morning so im bound to miss something
please remember to vote and interact in any way you can! thank you to everyone so far!
funfact of this chapter: sea slugs are almost invicible.
-eustelia
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