(Y/N)'s POV
Getting to the Argo II was the easy part. Dodging spears and swords with Annabeth by his side felt as if it were old times, in fact (Y/N) found it almost relaxing compared to his true burden. The weight on his shoulders.
Reyna's words had left him in a state of shock, his mind racing, he felt almost as if he shouldn't have been allowed to see the conversation between her and Annabeth. Because now he had, it was all he could think about.
Even as they escaped, even as the boat sailed away from the Romans and the storm pushed them out to sea, her words rung in his mind. "The legion will march on your territory. We will raze it and salt the earth." "The spear is thrown. Our people are at war."
There was something in Reyna's eyes as she said it that made him fear the outcome. The reluctance she spoke with, telling him that she was just doing what she was honor bound to do. Worst of all, that meant she believed it.
The threat of open war now loomed over him, much closer than it ever had before. When Leo attacked new Rome, (Y/N) really didn't think about it being a true war. Maybe it was immaturity, or ADHD, or whatever other reason, but he never seemed to grasp what it would mean.
So the romans were angry at him and his friends, who cares? (Y/N) didn't remember a time where his mere existence wasn't annoying someone, he barely remembered the last time he had a normal day without a monster or god trying to kill him.
So all the fear and anxiety that his friends were feeling up until now was lost on him, he figured it was no big deal so they go find the mark of Athena and problem solved. It hadn't hit him until he saw it in Reyna's eyes, the reluctance to fight is what made the fight real for him,
He recalled a conversation he once had as he and his friends made their way to Vegas, about how if war did break out, they had to pick sides. Of course (Y/N) knew what side he chose then and now.
But that was the gods, that was them wanting to take power or keep it, this, this was grounded, it was real and hung over him like the weight of the sky. Sinking into him and almost causing him to do something reckless.
As he watched the ship pull away, a few thoughts crossed his mind, the first was an option he would have personally hated the most, seeing as it would have been repeating history.
For a moment he thought to himself, What if I give myself up to them? Octavian hates me the most right? Would that stop the war. But the thought was perished before it was even completed.
He absolutely could have imagined that Octavian would not bring him to a jury or the senate, or wherever the Romans held executions these days, and would instead kill him before that, saying that (Y/N) had tried to escape. Then Octavian would march on Camp Half Blood anyway.
But that wasn't what really stopped (Y/N), because his next thought was to the person next to him, panting, shaking like a leaf and clearly terrified. "That was close. Are you okay?" He asked Annabeth.
She nodded and gave him a small smile, he knew that she was hiding something that had happened, but didn't press the issue, he realized he could never do that to her again, for Camp Half Blood, New Rome, or the world.
As their enemies faded off into the distance, obscured by storm clouds, other thoughts crossed his mind. The worst part of him that wasn't a murderous incarnation of hate began to rear it's head. The cold unfeeling part of him, that just began to run numbers.
He ran the numbers, not because he was angry with the romans, or afraid of them, it was because part of him was just curious. About how much he could affect the total number of deaths caused by the soon to be war
He wondered first that maybe if he went over to the docks and killed Octavian, his followers and maybe Reyna, maybe New Rome would back off and regroup. Or think twice about attacking the Greeks.
That unfortunately wasn't an option, because it makes the seven look liker heartless monsters, when really it was only (Y/N) that was willing to stoop that low, and if he had, it just would have martyred the two praetors.
His plans ranged from the desperate to the delusional. He could use the Lares of new Rome to overthrow it if he just borrowed a power from a god, or he could strike a deal with Hecate for some task that would cause the mist to make the demigods forget the attack on Rome.
His first gut instinct was to Iris message Chiron and tell the Greeks to be prepared, to muster all the Greek demigods around America, for example, he thought about pulling Clarisse out of college and saying "War time, do your thing. Burn the place up like Atlanta."
But to do that would only spark more conflict, it would put the Greeks on high alert and most likely amp them up just as much as the romans, which could lead to more bloodshed as now they were 'defending from invaders' not just fighting.
To cut a long thought process short, he knew he couldn't resolve the matter himself, but he did find some comfort in devising strategies to defend and protect both sides as best he could. In doing so, he realised this was most likely going to be an outcome of mutually assured destruction if they failed their quest.
Things had threatened the camp before, countless times, they had faced monsters and threats of war, invasion even, but this, a true war between demigods, it was something that he never wanted to consider, because if either side won, he lost.
If the war even began in earnest, with both sides killing, and there was open combat between the two forces, it would cause a rift in demigod life forever, no matter what happened with the giants or the earth mother.
He began to spiral, thoughts that only traced the back of his mind, but were still there. Horrible, wicked thoughts. Soon he found himself absentmindedly tracing the arrowhead that was still found in Glimmer, telling himself that he wouldn't let it happen again, he couldn't.
As the demigod made storm raged overhead, (Y/N) was in a bit of a daze, but not one of his normal ones from concussion or injury, this time it was worse, reality had just smacked him in the face, hard. He knew what he had to do, he had to break another promise.
He knew what would happen if he didn't, the number of deaths would be overwhelming. It was the curse of being the son of Thanatos, while yes the title came with a lot of perks, it had it's downsides too.
Every battle, every fight, every war, he could play them out in his head, even if he didn't mean to. He always knew the worst outcome, the most casualties, from a young age, like many other demigods. (Y/N) was faced with the reality that just because he was part immortal didn't make him or his friends any less mortal.
With the threat of Hades dragging him back to the underworld, plus whoever it was pulling the strings manoeuvring him around, (Y/N) felt like he was losing control of his life. Well, what little control he ever had.
As his wounds were cleaned, he thought, if these weren't shallow, if the romans had been a second faster, pierced a fraction deeper, it might have already been over. Again, he found himself tracing his thumb along the hilt of his dagger.
He knew that it wasn't just for first aid, he had been hurt worse than this on the lava wall, or in training with Annabeth, there was no way she was this concerned, it was an act. He just didn't know why.
"What are you thinking about?" She asked him gently as she wrapped up his hands. He pursed his lips before saying, "I think you know." She didn't verbally confirm, but the sadness in her eyes as she nodded was all he needed as confirmation.
"What are you thinking about?" He added quickly, out of habit really, in case she claimed to have scored a point, but she didn't, for a moment her eyes got dark, he felt her body shudder. Whatever she had seen had shaken her badly.
That wasn't what she spoke about though, like (Y/N), she was reluctant to face the new information she had been given, so instead, she changed the angle of the conversation. Wanting to break the news now, while they were alone.
She began to say, "(Y/N), it's about your mother-" "I don't want to think about that right now okay. With the mark of Athena, and the Romans, I have too much to worry about right now." He told her.
"I know you don't (Y/N)." She said, gently pressing him closer to her, "And I know you don't like to talk about it, but right now, for the sake of the mission we're on, I need you to know." He grumbled but nodded.
"Why is it important to the quest?" "I don't know." She admitted, "Just a feeling I have. Like it's going to play a part in all of this, same as your prophecy." He sat in silence as she took a deep breath and explained.
She told him about the meeting with Aphrodite, hinting at something deeper, she didn't say it explicitly, but (Y/N) could feel it in his gut that the goddess may have found an answer to the question that still plagued him. Who had taken his mother from him?
The moment his grandmother's suggestion left her lips (Y/N) felt sick, he was cold, ice cold, as the idea passed his mind a chill trailed down his neck and he had to fight back the feeling that he might have passed out.
It was like a joke, a truly horrible joke, something that Leo might have said and regretted later, the fact it came from Annabeth made it worse, the same as with Reyna, that meant that the daughter of Athena had thought about it and considered it a possibility.
It couldn't be though. "So Aphrodite thinks she did it to herself?" (Y/N) raged, "That makes no sense! After everything I had done for her, after all the pain I went through, you think she'd just throw that away? That's not possible!"
His mind began to warp with anger, any logical reasoning he had behind her being taken was overshadowed by the anger the thought clouded him with. "My mom had never used magic like that. She couldn't have done that."
"No. No! Aphrodite is wrong, it must have been someone else, someone-" Annabeth's expression softened, "(Y/N), I understand it's hard to hear but-" "No, It's not hard to hear, it's a lie!" He shouted.
"Aphrodite just wants to get the target off her back, she doesn't want to take the blame." "(Y/N) I don't think that's true." Annabeth insisted, but he couldn't even wrap his head around why that evil witch had planted such a ridiculous idea in her head.
"So now you're telling me that after everything I did, after all my trials, all the time I spent fighting for her, you think my mother would abandon me? Of her own volition? For what? For what purpose would she do that Annabeth?"
"I don't know." Annabeth said, "But if Aphrodite herself-" "If Aphrodite said it, it's A LIE!" He shouted. Standing up and pacing away from her. "It wasn't her, it was someone else, someone strong enough to get through all of Olympus' defences."
"(Y/N), I don't think that is the issue here." Annabeth said. She explained what Aphrodite had said about some sort of mastermind, who had been toying with his memories, making sure that the trail went cold.
"Why would anyone do that?" He asked, Annabeth sighed. "That's what I want to know. My running theory is that there is some detail, some piece in the puzzle that they wanted to keep you away from, something that would help you on the quest for the Mark of Athena."
"Someone old, someone powerful, has been leading you down a specific path, and we need to know why. Your friend 'Thomas.' Was scared of them, whoever they are. He kept you alive because he didn't want you off that path."
"He wasn't just a janitor (Y/N), you couldn't read his nametag is all, I ran some calculations, of Daedalus' laptop, searching for anyone who fit the description you gave me, related to the others, only one name popped up. Thaumas, a sea god, son of Pontus and Gaea."
"He was there watching over his siblings, making sure they fell in line. If someone that powerful is afraid of upsetting whoever it was behind this. It's something big." As she explained this, his mind drew a conclusion, his anger still present.
"Someone old, someone powerful, and I only know one person who it could have been...isn't it funny, how Nyx just happened to be there to save me? How every opportunity she wanted for a war lined up all because of what happened that night?"
"It had to be her, she was the only person it could have been, she did it to spark the war. I know she did. It's the only thing that makes sense!" He reasoned. "Maybe, but we can't assume, we need the truth. Maybe we could talk to her ask her." Annabeth suggested.
"Just to rule it out, nothing more." "Oh yeah, have fun trying to accuse Nyx of anything without getting your face torn off." He chuckled weakly, but part of him knew what she would say next. "I wasn't talking about Nyx."
He looked at her, incensed that she would even say that. "My mom is dead!" He snapped. "And they took her from me! That's all that matters!" "I understand that, but souls can be brought back. Even from Elysium. Bianca-"
"-Was a different story. She's a child of Hades, you think it's that easy to just pluck a soul from the underworld? You think I wouldn't have done that day one? And this is all assuming that I go along with your stupid idea. Which I will not."
Annabeth grit her teeth, clearly biting back anger as she said "It's not a stupid idea." She said bitterly. "I know what I'm asking you to do is horrible (Y/N) believe me, I do. But we need to talk to your mother."
"Even if Aphrodite is wrong, even if it doesn't lead anywhere, we need to know." There was a desperation to Annabeth' voice that was very uncommon for her, he could tell she wasn't doing this to hurt him, but to help him.
Still, there were lines he couldn't cross. "I'm not the one doing it, you'll have to wait until we get Nico back." He said firmly, looking away to avoid her eyes. "(Y/N) we don't have that kind of time." She said, "We need to talk to her, she could help us with Gaea. She could-"
"I can't do it." He said quickly, before she tried to convince him. "Why not, why can't you do it? If Nico could raise Bianca surely you should be the person to-" "-I won't do it!" He shouted turning to face her again, finally allowing her to see the anger in his eyes.
"Because if I do, if I even try, then I know" He explained, his expression turning more sad than upset. "It was why I didn't teach Nico magic, it's why I've never raised her before. Annabeth If I do this, and raise her spirit, then I know I can."
She caught on, "And then you'll never stop wanting to." He nodded as she pulled him into a hug. "Orpheus" He said quietly. He couldn't risk the temptation it would cause. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" She began to say, but he shook his head, still immersed in the comfort of the hug.
"It's fine, I understand it could be important, I just....I can't." Then, he said the one thing he wished he didn't have to, the one thing that he knew as much as he hated it, whatever path he was being led on, would get him to that point, one way or another.
"There is one person that might be able to help us, even if Nico can't." He said quietly, gritting his teeth silently in frustration. Annabeth's face turned sour. She nodded, "Hades." He fought back the urge to curse the name.
Knowing that it was for the sake of the quest and his own peace of mind, he had to visit his worst enemy. The god must have seen this coming, knowing (Y/N) would be forced into a corner and would have to rely on him.
"But I promised." He said, she nodded, "I know, but things have changed (Y/N). Breaking a promise to find a truth that might save the world is probably worth breaking a promise for." (Y/N) nodded.
"Ok." He said simply. "I'll talk to him, if I can. But I swear to you, no matter what. I'm coming back." She nodded, "I know, you'd better not make me come down there to save you from the underworld again."
"But first things first, we follow the map, plus, we better head up, before Hedge comes down here and accuses us of anything." She said, turning away. It took (Y/N) a second to respond, "Wait, what do you mean again? You never saved me from the underworld. Hey!" He said as she left.
Leo's POV
After raiding a museum full of Confederate ghosts, Leo didn't think his day could get any worse. He was wrong. They hadn't found anything in the Civil War sub or elsewhere in the museum.
Just a few elderly tourists, a dozing security guard, and—when they tried to inspect the artifacts—a whole battalion of glowing zombie dudes in gray uniforms. The idea that Frank should be able to control the spirits? Yeah...that pretty much failed.
By the time Piper sent her Iris-message warning them about the Roman attack, they were already halfway back to the ship, having been chased through downtown Charleston by a pack of angry dead Confederates.
Then—oh, boy!—Leo got to hitch a ride with Frank the Friendly Eagle so they could fight a bunch of Romans. Rumor must've gotten around that Leo was the one who had fired on their little city, because those Romans seemed especially anxious to kill him.
But wait! There was more! Coach Hedge shot them out of the sky; Frank dropped him (that was no accident); and they crash-landed in Fort Sumter. Now, as the Argo II raced across the waves, Leo had to use all his skill just to keep the ship in one piece.
Percy and Jason were a little too good at cooking up massive storms. At one point, Annabeth stood next to him, yelling against the roar of the wind: "Percy says he talked to a Nereid in Charleston Harbor!"
"Good for him!" Leo yelled back. "The Nereid said we should seek help from Chiron's brothers." "What does that mean? The Party Ponies?" Leo had never met Chiron's crazy centaur relatives, but he'd heard rumors of Nerf sword-fights, root beer–chugging contests, and Super Soakers filled with pressurized whipped cream.
"Not sure," Annabeth said. "But I've got coordinates. Can you input latitude and longitude in this thing?" "I can input star charts and order you a smoothie, if you want. Of course I can do latitude and longitude!"
Annabeth rattled off the numbers. Leo somehow managed to punch them in while holding the wheel with one hand. A red dot popped up on the bronze display screen. "That location is in the middle of the Atlantic," he said. "Do the Party Ponies have a yacht?"
Annabeth shrugged helplessly. "Just hold the ship together until we get farther from Charleston. Jason and Percy will keep up the winds!" "Happy fun time!" It seemed like forever, but finally the sea calmed and the winds died.
"Valdez," said Coach Hedge, with surprising gentleness. "Let me take the wheel. You've been steering for two hours." "Two hours?" "Yeah. Give me the wheel." "Coach?" "Yeah, kid?" "I can't unclench my hands."
It was true. Leo's fingers felt like they had turned to stone. His eyes burned from staring at the horizon. His knees were marshmallows. Coach Hedge managed to pry him from the wheel. Leo took one last look at the console, listening to Festus chatter and whir a status report.
Leo felt like he was forgetting something. He stared at the controls, trying to think, but it was no good. His eyes could hardly focus. "Just watch for monsters," he told the coach. "And be careful with the damaged stabilizer. And—"
"I've got it covered," Coach Hedge promised. "Now, go away!" Leo nodded wearily. He staggered across the deck toward his friends. Percy and Jason sat with their backs against the mast, their heads slumped in exhaustion.
Zoe and Piper were trying to get them to drink some water. As Leo arrived, so did Annabeth and (Y/N), they walked up the stairs together and met with the others. The two had disappeared below deck the moment they were away from the romans.
Now Leo was sure why, because (Y/N) was covered almost head to toe in bandages, likely to stave off using their dwindling supply of ambrosia and nectar, he looked as if he'd just been in a car crash, but didn't seem to notice that, he headed straight towards Leo.
He didn't say anything, but smiled at Leo, tussling his hair as he passed to sit beside Jason and Percy. Leo still saw something in his eyes though, an anger at something or someone that wasn't shown on his face.
Personally, Leo hoped this time it was aimed at Frank, for the bird deployment stunt mostly. But after (Y/N) interacted with him, Leo felt a lot better, the numbness in his hands and the tiredness in his body began to lift.
He wondered why as (Y/N) did the same to Percy and Jason. But was distracted from that thought by Hazel and Frank stood just out of earshot, having an argument that involved lots of arm waving and head shaking. Leo should not have felt pleased about that, but part of him did.
The other part of him felt bad that he felt pleased. The argument stopped abruptly when Hazel saw Leo. Everybody gathered at the mast. Frank scowled like he was trying hard to turn into a bulldog. "No sign of pursuit," he said. "Or land," Hazel added.
She looked a little green, though Leo wasn't sure if that was from the rocking of the boat or from arguing. Leo scanned the horizon. Nothing but ocean in every direction. That shouldn't have surprised him.
He'd spent six months building a ship that he knew would cross the Atlantic. But until today, their embarking on a journey to the ancient lands hadn't seemed real. Leo had never been outside the U.S. before—except for a quick dragon flight up to Quebec.
Now they were in the middle of the open sea, completely on their own, sailing to the Mare Nostrum, where all the scary monsters and nasty giants had come from. The Romans might not follow them, but they couldn't count on any help from Camp Half-Blood, either.
Leo patted his waist to make sure his tool belt was still there. Unfortunately that just reminded him of Nemesis's fortune cookie, tucked inside one of the pockets. "You will always be an outsider." The goddess's voice still wriggled around in his head. The seventh wheel.
He looked around, at Zoe and (Y/N), the two people on this ship who should have been outsiders, not a part of the seven like he was, but couldn't help but feel like he was so much further from being a part of the team than they were.
Forget her, Leo told himself. Concentrate on the stuff you can fix. He turned to Annabeth. "Did you find the map you wanted?" She nodded, though she looked pale. Leo wondered what she'd seen at Fort Sumter that could have shaken her up so badly.
"I'll have to study it," she said, as if that was the end of the subject. "How far are we from those coordinates?" "At top rowing speed, about an hour," Leo said. "Any idea what we're looking for?" "No," she admitted. "Percy?"
Percy raised his head. His green eyes were bloodshot and droopy. "The Nereid said Chiron's brothers were there, and they'd want to hear about that aquarium in Atlanta. I don't know what she meant, but..." He paused, like he'd used up all his energy saying that much.
"She also warned me to be careful. Keto, the goddess at the aquarium: she's the mother of sea monsters. She might be stuck in Atlanta, but she can still send her children after us. The Nereid said we should expect an attack."
"Wonderful," Frank muttered. "Wait, now we're going to have to fight kaiju. Man and I thought the sea of monsters was bad." (Y/N) said. Jason tried to stand, which wasn't a good idea. Piper grabbed him to keep him from falling over, and he slid back down the mast.
"Can we get the ship aloft?" he asked. "If we could fly—" "That'd be great," Leo said. "Except Festus tells me the port aerial stabilizer got pulverized when the ship raked against the dock at Fort Sumter."
"We were in a hurry," Annabeth said. "Trying to save you." "And saving me is a very noble cause," Leo agreed. "I'm just saying, it'll take some time to fix. Until then, we're not flying anywhere." Percy flexed his shoulders and winced. "Fine with me. The sea is good."
"Speak for yourself." Hazel glanced at the evening sun, which was almost to the horizon. "We need to go fast. We've burned another day, and Nico only has three more left." "We can do it," Leo promised.
He hoped Hazel had forgiven him for not trusting her brother (hey, it had seemed like a reasonable suspicion to Leo), but he didn't want to reopen that wound. "We can make it to Rome in three days—assuming, you know, nothing unexpected happens."
Frank grunted. He looked like he was still working on that bulldog transformation. "Is there any good news?" "Actually, yes," Leo said. "According to Festus, our flying table, Buford, made it back safely while we were in Charleston, so those eagles didn't get him. Unfortunately, he lost the laundry bag with your pants."
"Dang it!" Frank barked, which Leo figured was probably severe profanity for him. No doubt Frank would've cursed some more—busting out the golly gees and the gosh darns—but Percy interrupted by doubling over and groaning.
"Did the world just turn upside down?" he asked. Jason pressed his hands to his head. "Yeah, and it's spinning. Everything is yellow. Is it supposed to be yellow?" Zoe and Piper exchanged concerned looks.
"Summoning that storm really sapped your strength," Piper told the boys. "You've got to rest." "Save your strength for the battles ahead." Zoe reasoned, trying to coax Percy to sit. "Battles ahead, just what I need." He grumbled. "You must rest, the two of you."
"Wait, maybe I can-" (Y/N) said, reaching his hand to the boys "-No, (Y/N), remember our talk, you're injured too and we need you at full strength for your journey, worry about yourself for once." He sighed in response but nodded, "Let's lie them down."
Annabeth nodded agreement. "Frank, can you help us get the guys belowdecks?" Frank glanced at Leo, no doubt reluctant to leave him alone with Hazel. "It's fine, man," Leo said. "Just try not to drop them on the way down the stairs."
(Y/N)'s POV
All of them sat there in silence, Percy had his eyes closed and appeared to be sleeping, Jason was propped up in the cot, the rest of them just sat around in a dreary silence, (Y/N) couldn't stand it. "I'll start off with the elephant in the room. So we're at war now."
The silence was suddenly filled with sighs, "Like, as in not just us, both factions. If the Romans head to Camp Half Blood, they'll be treated as an invasion force, not friends." They all gave him a look as if to say 'yeah, we know that, let us mope.'
Jason spoke up first, offering his sympathies. "I'm sorry, but if the Roman's make it to your camp, it's finished." He said with fear clear in his voice, "Rome at war is not something anybody can withstand."
Partly because of the stress he was under, and partly because of his need to lash out, (Y/N) said "Camp half blood can." more because he wasn't able to process the possibility of the alternative than for the need to argue. "We faced Kronos, we've seen worse."
Frank shook his head, "No, you haven't, there is a reason that Rome had an empire back in the day, there's a reason they are still considered one of the strongest fighting forces in history."
"A lot has changed since now and then." Zoe said quietly, Jason retorted, "Not enough. I'm sorry guys but if you think one camp can survive the entire roman legion, you haven't seen a real roman legion."
"If Octavian can rally enough of the cohorts then I don't think there's anything we can do to stop him." Now, this may have been true, but something in (Y/N) wanted to refute that, wanted to defend his home, not just from invasion, but disrespect.
"If you think camp half blood is just another place to conquer you are in for a rude awakening." He defended, "You don't understand, we outnumber you five to one minimum-" Jason began, "No, you don't understand." (Y/N) said.
"Yeah you guys are better trained as a unit but we have stronger demigods in general. We're closer to the root power of the gods, always have been not some cheap knockoffs-" "Hey!" Frank shouted.
But (Y/N) paid him no mind and continued to explain. "Say each camper kills three Romans max. Say every councillor kills three times that. Add in people like Lou Ellen and Clovis. And numbers don't matter. Plus me, Nico, Percy, Zoe, Annabeth and Clarisse and you are in for the fight of your lives."
Jason sat up further, swaying, "You think one Greek kills three romans? We have combat training all our lives" "Yeah and it sucks. I stomped out almost the entirety of new Rome in a war game. That was me playing a game. You think I'll be playing if you attack my home?"
Jason grumbled. "That still doesn't make sense, you put too much faith in individuals, and you forget, we were playing back then too. Rome is a war machine, plain and simple. We have more numbers, better equipment, and more experience at war."
"At first." (Y/N) said. "All you have is Hazel, we have me and Nico, and more Hecate campers." "What difference does that make against war elephants and ballista?" Jason said, "And 'Just Hazel' What is that supposed to mean?" Frank also argued.
(Y/N) sighed, he didn't want to bring this up, but it was true. "Look at it like this. You outnumber us, yeah we're going to take heavy losses. But every loss we take you still have a soldier to fight regardless, and for every loss you take you have another soldier to fight. You'll outnumber us at first but not forever."
"You mean you would raise the dead as a fighting force." Frank said, looking at (Y/N) as though he'd just been cursed out in multiple languages. "If I had to. Nico can as well, Hazel, well, assuming she'd even fight, she can't."
"You would do that to your own people, that's horrible." Piper said, "That's war. All is fair in love and war." (Y/N) shrugged, "Plus, the counterattack against new rome would not be pretty. Those lares you keep floating around your city might as well be a walking invasion force."
"But the more important factor is that we have Annabeth and most likely we have Leo. That gives us a significant advantage from the very beginning. Strategically, and mechanically. Even if Leo sides with the romans they'll execute him for hurting their feelings."
"You sound like you've put a lot of thought into this." Jason said suspiciously, "No, I'm just good at knowing how to kill things, and I know that if new Rome threatens my home in any capacity, I swear to you I'll crush it to dust. Not just kill it."
"If you live that long." Jason said, "Excuse me?" "We have powerful demigods too." "Really? I can name like, four...and most of them aren't even that strong. Even with the same powers, just Greek Vs Roman, your sister would crush you." (Y/N) said, Jason frowned at him.
"That's not true and you know it." "Ahhh, but you had to think about it-" "-We aren't talking about my sister, we're talking about you!" Jason said, and the others were still in stunned silence, unable to interrupt.
(Y/N) chuckled. "You think you could beat me in a fight?" "Yeah. I'd fry you before you even get your sword out." "Well we're inside and I didn't say I'd need it." "You think you can beat me hand to hand " "Yes, I've proven it, and I can beat anyone hand to hand. It's kind of my thing. You do realise I can...ohhh"
"Right...I wasn't me me..." He realized as Jason glared at him, that same egotistical flair he got from his father acting up again "Want to prove it?" Jason offered. Despite the fact he was lying down, thinking about it afterwards, the boy may have been a little delirious.
In that scenario, who was worse, the delirious idiot, or the idiot about to fight the delirious idiot? The answer revealed itself pretty quickly as (Y/N)'s frustration and stress got the best of him.
(Y/N) said "Sure" and reached a hand out to Jason "Don't do it" Annabeth said "We shouldn't be fighting" "He offered. And it occurred to me that most of them might not even know." (Y/N) countered.
"Don't know what?" Jason said before (Y/N) put his palm to the son of Jupiter's forehead. "About this" It took about five seconds before Jason's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he began choking for air. Zoe knocked his hand away.
"(Y/N)!" She shouted as Jason collapsed onto the bed. (Y/N) sort of snapped back into the room, he was so caught up in his own fear that he got too invested in the argument and wanted to prove that the greeks weren't pushovers, he didn't really think about what he was doing.
"Sorry I didn't mean to hurt him so bad. Guess I've gotten a bit stronger. It's been so long I almost forgot what it felt like." "Hey what's your problem!" Piper said angrily, "He started it." "He's injured!" "So am I!"
"OK THAT IS ENOUGH!" Annabeth shouted. Glaring around the room with such intensity that all of them paused, "First off, no greek is going to kill any roman, no roman is going to kill any greek!"
She turned her eyes to (Y/N) and a knot of shame seemed to tighten in his chest, "Second. There is no 'them.' Or 'us'. Okay? We can't keep thinking like that. We are not enemies. Greek or Roman, it doesn't matter!"
"None of it matters. Because it's not going to happen! Do you understand, we are going to save Nico, we are going to stop Gaea and we are not going to war!" Annabeth said firmly.
"I know we're all stressed out and scared, I know that none of us want to imagine a world where our home is destroyed, but that is the reality we face if we don't WORK TOGETHER! We've had this conversation before, now just drop it!"
(Y/N) nodded, a lump in his throat, his fear about an invasion and his past experiences with loosing his friend to one had blinded him a little. If anything he wasn't just tying to convince Jason, he was trying to convince himself too.
Trying to reason that the romans wouldn't be able to destroy camp half blood, that they wouldn't be able to hurt his friends. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "You're right, I'm sorry, I went too far again. I just..."
He trailed off, fearing that his voice may have broken, now noticing the wound on his back aching, and remembering the pain in the back Lee Fletcher gave him to save his life the last time Camp Half Blood was invaded.
"I'm sorry." He repeated, "I was out of line. But here maybe this will help-" He began to use his healing on Jason, and as weary as Piper seemed, she let him. Knowing he meant no harm. Though through a twist of fate he did more of that than good.
Because as he reached his had out to heal Jason, the ship swayed violently, making everyone lose their footing, which also unfortunately meant that Jason, instead of being healed, was accidentally punched in the face. He woke up, startled. "What in the F-"
Leo's POV
Once the others were below, Hazel and Leo faced each other awkwardly. They were alone except for Coach Hedge, who was back on the quarterdeck singing the Pokémon theme song. The coach had changed the words to: Gotta Kill 'Em All, and Leo really didn't want to know why.
The song didn't seem to help Hazel's nausea. "Ugh..." She leaned over and hugged her sides. She had nice hair—frizzy and golden brown like curls of cinnamon. Her hair reminded Leo of a place in Houston that made excellent churros. The thought made him hungry.
"Don't lean over," he advised. "Don't close your eyes. It makes the queasiness worse." "It does? Do you get seasick too?" "Not seasick. But cars make me nauseous, and..." He stopped himself. He wanted to say talking to girls, but he decided to keep that to himself.
"Cars?" Hazel straightened with difficulty. "You can sail a ship or fly a dragon, but cars make you sick?" "I know, right?" Leo shrugged. "I'm special that way. Look, keep your eyes on the horizon. That's a fixed point. It'll help."
Hazel took a deep breath and stared into the distance. Her eyes were lustrous gold, like the copper and bronze disks inside Festus's mechanical head. "Any better?" he asked. "Maybe a little." She sounded like she was just being polite.
She kept her eyes on the horizon, but Leo got the feeling she was gauging his mood, considering what to say. "Frank didn't drop you on purpose," she said. "He's not like that. He's just a little clumsy sometimes."
"Oops," Leo said, in his best Frank Zhang voice. "Dropped Leo into a squad of enemy soldiers. Dang it!" Hazel tried to suppress a smile. Leo figured smiling was better than throwing up. "Go easy on him," Hazel said. "You and your fireballs make Frank nervous."
"The guy can turn into an elephant, and I make him nervous?" Hazel kept her eyes on the horizon. She didn't look quite so queasy, despite the fact that Coach Hedge was still singing his Pokémon song at the helm.
"Leo," she said, "about what happened at the Great Salt Lake..." Here it comes, Leo thought. He remembered their meeting with the revenge goddess Nemesis. The fortune cookie in his tool belt started to feel heavier.
Last night, as they flew from Atlanta, Leo had lain in his cabin and thought about how angry he'd made Hazel. He had thought about ways he could make it right. Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, Nemesis had said, though I could help you...for a price.
Leo had taken the fortune cookie out of his tool belt and turned it in his fingers, wondering what price he would have to pay if he broke it open. Maybe now was the moment. "I'd be willing," he told Hazel. "I could use the fortune cookie to find your brother."
Hazel looked stunned. "What? No! I mean...I'd never ask you to do that. Not after what Nemesis said about the horrible cost. We barely know each other!" The barely know each other comment kind of hurt, though Leo knew it was true.
"So...that's not what you wanted to talk about?" he asked. "Uh, did you want to talk about the holding-hands-on-the-boulder moment? Because—" "No!" she said quickly, fanning her face in that cute way she did when she was flustered.
"No, I was just thinking about the way you tricked Narcissus and those nymphs..." "Oh, right." Leo glanced self-consciously at his arm. The HOT STUFF tattoo hadn't completely faded. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."
"You were amazing," Hazel said. "I've been mulling it over, how much you reminded me of—" "Sammy," Leo guessed. "I wish you'd tell me who he is." "Who he was," Hazel corrected. The evening air was warm, but she shivered.
"I've been thinking...I might be able to show you." "You mean like a photo?" "No. There's a sort of flashback that happens to me. I haven't had one in a long time, and I've never tried to make one happen on purpose. But I shared one with Frank once, so I thought..."
Hazel locked eyes with him. Leo started to feel jittery, like he'd been injected with coffee. If this flashback was something Frank had shared with Hazel...well, either Leo didn't want any part of it, or he definitely wanted to try it. He wasn't sure which.
"When you say flashback..." He swallowed. "What exactly are we talking about? Is it safe?" Hazel held out her hand. "I wouldn't ask you to do this, but I'm sure it's important. It can't be a coincidence we met. If this works, maybe we can finally understand how we're connected."
Leo glanced back at the helm. He still had a nagging suspicion he'd forgotten something, but Coach Hedge seemed to be doing fine. The sky ahead was clear. There was no sign of trouble.
Besides, a flashback sounded like a pretty brief thing. It couldn't hurt to let the coach be in charge for a few more minutes, could it? "Okay," he relented. "Show me." He took Hazel's hand, and the world dissolved.
THEY STOOD IN THE COURTYARD of an old compound, like a monastery. Red brick walls were overgrown with vines. Big magnolia trees had cracked the pavement. The sun beat down, and the humidity was about two hundred percent, even stickier than in Houston.
Somewhere nearby, Leo smelled fish frying. Overhead, the cloud cover was low and gray, striped like a tiger's pelt. The courtyard was about the size of a basketball court. An old deflated football sat in one corner, at the base of a Virgin Mary statue.
Along the sides of the buildings, windows were open. Leo could see flickers of movement inside, but it was eerily quiet. He saw no sign of air conditioning, which meant it must have been a thousand degrees in there.
"Where are we?" he asked. "My old school," Hazel said next to him. "St. Agnes Academy for Colored Children and Indians." "What kind of name—?" He turned toward Hazel and yelped. She was a ghost—just a vaporous silhouette in the steamy air.
Leo looked down and realized his own body had turned to mist too. Everything around him seemed solid and real, but he was a spirit. After having been possessed by an eidolon three days ago, he didn't appreciate the feeling.
Before he could ask questions, a bell rang inside: not a modern electronic sound, but the old-fashioned buzz of a hammer on metal. "This is a memory," Hazel said, "so no one will see us. Look, here we come."
"We?" From every door, dozens of children spilled into the courtyard, yelling and jostling each other. They were mostly African American, with a sprinkling of Hispanic-looking kids, as young as kindergartners and as old as high schoolers.
Leo could tell this was in the past, because all the girls wore dresses and buckled leather shoes. The boys wore white collared shirts and pants held up by suspenders. Many wore caps like horse jockeys wear. Some kids carried lunches. Many didn't.
Their clothes were clean, but worn and faded. Some had holes in the knees of their trousers, or shoes with the heels coming apart. A few of the girls began playing jump rope with an old piece of clothesline.
The older guys tossed a ratty baseball back and forth. Kids with lunches sat together and ate and chatted. No one paid Ghost Hazel or Leo any attention. Then Hazel—Hazel from the past—stepped into the courtyard.
Leo recognized her with no problem, though she looked about two years younger than now. Her hair was pinned back in a bun. Her gold eyes darted around the courtyard uneasily. She wore a dark dress, unlike the other girls in their white cotton or pastel flowery prints, so she stood out like a mourner at a wedding.
She gripped a canvas lunch bag and moved along the wall, as if trying hard not to be noticed. It didn't work. A boy called out, "Witch girl!" He lumbered toward her, backing her into a corner.
The boy could have been fourteen or nineteen. It was hard to tell because he was so big and tall, easily the largest guy on the playground. Leo figured he'd been held back a few times. He wore a dirty shirt the color of grease rags, threadbare wool trousers (in this heat, they couldn't have been comfortable), and no shoes at all.
Maybe the teachers were too terrified to insist that this kid wear shoes, or maybe he just didn't have any. "That's Rufus," said Ghost Hazel with distaste. "Seriously? No way his name is Rufus," Leo said.
"Come on," said Ghost Hazel. She drifted toward the confrontation. Leo followed. He wasn't used to drifting, but he'd ridden a Segway once and it was kind of like that. He simply leaned in the direction he wanted to go and glided along.
The big kid Rufus had flat features, as if he spent most of his time face-planting on the sidewalk. His hair was cut just as flat on top, so miniature airplanes could've used it for a landing strip. Rufus thrust out his hand. "Lunch."
Hazel from the past didn't protest. She handed over her canvas bag like this was an everyday occurrence. A few older girls drifted over to watch the fun. One giggled at Rufus. "You don't want to eat that," she warned. "It's probably poison."
"You're right," Rufus said. "Did your witch mom make this, Levesque?" "She's not a witch," Hazel muttered. Rufus dropped the bag and stepped on it, smashing the contents under his bare heel. "You can have it back. I want a diamond, though. I hear your momma can make those out of thin air. Gimme a diamond."
"I don't have diamonds," Hazel said. "Go away." Rufus balled his fists. Leo had been in enough rough schools and foster homes to sense when things were about to turn ugly. He wanted to step in and help Hazel, but he was a ghost. Besides, all this had happened decades ago.
Then another kid stumbled outside into the sunlight. Leo sucked in his breath. The boy looked exactly like him. "You see?" asked Ghost Hazel. Fake Leo was the same height as Regular Leo—meaning he was short.
He had the same nervous energy—tapping his fingers against his trousers, brushing at his white cotton shirt, adjusting the jockey cap on his curly brown hair. (Really, Leo thought, short people should not wear jockey caps unless they were jockeys.)
Fake Leo had the same devilish smile that greeted Regular Leo whenever he looked in a mirror—an expression that made teachers immediately shout, "Don't even think about it!" and plop him in the front row.
Apparently, Fake Leo had just been scolded by a teacher. He was holding a dunce cap—an honest-to-goodness cardboard cone that said DUNCE. Leo thought those were something you only saw in cartoons.
He could understand why Fake Leo wasn't wearing it. Bad enough to look like a jockey. With that cone on his head, he would've looked like a gnome. Some kids backed up when Fake Leo burst onto the scene.
Others nudged each other and ran toward him like they were expecting a show. Meanwhile, Flathead Rufus was still trying to punk Hazel out of a diamond, oblivious to Fake Leo's arrival. "Come on, girl." Rufus loomed over Hazel with his fists clenched. "Give it!"
Hazel pressed herself against the wall. Suddenly the ground at her feet went snap, like a twig breaking. A perfect diamond the size of a pistachio glittered between her feet. "Ha!" Rufus barked when he saw it. He started to lean down, but Hazel yelped, "No, please!" as if she was genuinely concerned for the big goon.
That's when Fake Leo strolled over. Here it comes, Leo thought. Fake Leo is gonna bust out some Coach Hedge–style jujitsu and save the day. Instead, Fake Leo put the top of the dunce cap to his mouth like a megaphone and yelled, "CUT!"
He said it with such authority all the other kids momentarily froze. Even Rufus straightened and backed away in confusion. One of the little boys snickered under his breath: "Hammy Sammy." Sammy... Leo shivered. Who the heck was this kid?
Sammy/Fake Leo stormed up to Rufus with his dunce cap in his hand, looking angry. "No, no, no!" he announced, waving his free hand wildly at the other kids, who were gathering to watch the entertainment.
Sammy turned to Hazel. "Miss Lamarr, your line is..." Sammy looked around in exasperation. "Script! What is Hedy Lamarr's line?" "'No, please, you villain!'" one of the boys called out. "Thank you!" Sammy said.
"Miss Lamarr, you're supposed to say, No, please, you villain! And you, Clark Gable—" The whole courtyard burst into laughter. Leo vaguely knew Clark Gable was an old-timey actor, but he didn't know much else.
Apparently, though, the idea that Flathead Rufus could be Clark Gable was hilarious to the kids. "Mr. Gable—" "No!" one of the girls cried. "Make him Gary Cooper." More laughter. Rufus looked as if he were about to blow a valve.
He balled his fists like he wanted to hit somebody, but he couldn't attack the entire school. He clearly hated being laughed at, but his slow little mind couldn't quite work out what Sammy was up to.
Leo nodded in appreciation. Sammy was like him. Leo had done the same kind of stuff to bullies for years. "Right!" Sammy yelled imperiously. "Mr. Cooper, you say, Oh, but the diamond is mine, my treacherous darling! And then you scoop up the diamond like this!"
"Sammy, no!" Hazel protested, but Sammy snatched up the stone and slipped it into his pocket in one smooth move. He wheeled on Rufus. "I want emotion! I want the ladies in the audience swooning! Ladies, did Mr. Cooper make you swoon just now?"
"No," several of them called back. "There, you see?" Sammy cried. "Now, from the top!" he yelled into his dunce cap. "Action!" Rufus was just starting to get over his confusion. He stepped toward Sammy and said, "Valdez, I'm gonna—"
The bell rang. Kids swarmed the doors. Sammy pulled Hazel out of the way as the little ones—who acted like they were on Sammy's payroll—herded Rufus along with them so he was carried inside on a tide of kindergartners.
Soon Sammy and Hazel were alone except for the ghosts. Sammy scooped up Hazel's smashed lunch, made a show of dusting off the canvas bag, and presented it to her with a deep bow, as if it were her crown. "Miss Lamarr."
Hazel from the past took her ruined lunch. She looked like she was about to cry, but Leo couldn't tell if that was from relief or misery or admiration. "Sammy...Rufus is going to kill you." "Ah, he knows better than to tangle with me."
Sammy plopped the dunce cap on top of his jockey cap. He stood up straight and stuck out his scrawny chest. The dunce cap fell off. Hazel laughed. "You are ridiculous." "Why, thank you, Miss Lamarr."
"You're welcome, my treacherous darling." Sammy's smile wavered. The air became uncomfortably charged. Hazel stared at the ground. "You shouldn't have touched that diamond. It's dangerous."
"Ah, come on," Sammy said. "Not for me!" Hazel studied him warily, like she wanted to believe it. "Bad things might happen. You shouldn't—" "I won't sell it," Sammy said. "I promise! I'll just keep it as a token of your flavor."
Hazel forced a smile. "I think you mean token of my favor." "There you are! We should get going. It's time for our next scene: Hedy Lamarr nearly dies of boredom in English class." Sammy held out his elbow like a gentleman, but Hazel pushed him away playfully.
"Thanks for being there, Sammy." "Miss Lamarr, I will always be there for you!" he said brightly. The two of them raced back into the schoolhouse. Leo felt more like a ghost than ever. Maybe he had actually been an eidolon his whole life, because this kid he'd just seen should have been the real Leo.
He was smarter, cooler, and funnier. He flirted so well with Hazel that he had obviously stolen her heart. No wonder Hazel had looked at Leo so strangely when they first met. No wonder she had said Sammy with so much feeling.
But Leo wasn't Sammy, any more than Flathead Rufus was Clark Gable. "Hazel," he said. "I—I don't—" The schoolyard dissolved into a different scene. Hazel and Leo were still ghosts, but now they stood in front of a rundown house next to a drainage ditch overgrown with weeds.
A clump of banana trees drooped in the yard. Perched on the steps, an old-fashioned radio played conjunto music, and on the shaded porch, sitting in a rocking chair, a skinny old man gazed at the horizon.
"Where are we?" Hazel asked. She was still only vapor, but her voice was full of alarm. "This isn't from my life!" Leo felt as if his ghostly self was thickening, becoming more real. This place seemed strangely familiar.
"It's Houston," he realized. "I know this view. That drainage ditch...This is my mom's old neighborhood, where she grew up. Hobby Airport is over that way." "This is your life?" Hazel said. "I don't understand! How—?"
"You're asking me?" Leo demanded. Suddenly the old man murmured, "Ah, Hazel..." A shock went up Leo's spine. The old man's eyes were still fixed on the horizon. How did he know they were here?
"I guess we ran out of time," the old man continued dreamily. "Well..." He didn't finish the thought. Hazel and Leo stayed very still. The old man made no further sign that he saw them or heard them.
It dawned on Leo that the guy had been talking to himself. But then why had he said Hazel's name? He had leathery skin, curly white hair, and gnarled hands, like he'd spent a lifetime working in a machine shop.
He wore a pale yellow shirt, spotless and clean, with gray slacks and suspenders and polished black shoes. Despite his age, his eyes were sharp and clear. He sat with a kind of quiet dignity. He looked at peace—amused, even, like he was thinking, Dang, I lived this long? Cool!
Leo was pretty sure he had never seen this man before. So why did he seem familiar? Then he realized the man was tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, but the tapping wasn't random. He was using Morse code, just like Leo's mother used to do with him...and the old man was tapping the same message: I love you.
The screen door opened. A young woman came out. She wore jeans and a turquoise blouse. Her hair was cut in a short black wedge. She was pretty, but not delicate. She had well-muscled arms and calloused hands.
Like the old man's, her brown eyes glinted with amusement. In her arms was a baby, wrapped in a blue blanket. "Look, mijo," she said to the baby. "This is your bisabuelo. Bisabuelo, you want to hold him?"
When Leo heard her voice, he sobbed. It was his mother—younger than he remembered her, but very much alive. That meant the baby in her arms...The old man broke into a huge grin. He had perfect teeth, as white as his hair.
His face crinkled with smile lines. "A boy! Mi bebito, Leo!" "Leo?" Hazel whispered. "That—that's you? What is bisabuelo?" Leo couldn't find his voice. Great-grandfather, he wanted to say. The old man took baby Leo in his arms, chuckling with appreciation and tickling the baby's chin—and Ghost Leo finally realized what he was seeing.
Somehow, Hazel's power to revisit the past had found the one event that connected both of their lives—where Leo's time line touched Hazel's This old man... "Oh..." Hazel seemed to realize who he was at the same moment.
Her voice became very small, on the verge of tears. "Oh, Sammy, no..." "Ah, little Leo," said Sammy Valdez, aged well into his seventies. "You'll have to be my stunt double, eh? That's what they call it, I think. Tell her for me. I hoped I would be alive, but, ay, the curse won't have it!"
Hazel sobbed. "Gaea...Gaea told me that he died of a heart attack, in the 1960s. But this isn't—this can't be..." Sammy Valdez kept talking to the baby, while Leo's mother, Esperanza, looked on with a pained smile—perhaps a little worried that Leo's bisabuelo was rambling, a little sad that he was speaking nonsense.
"That lady, Doña Callida, she warned me." Sammy shook his head sadly. "She said Hazel's great danger would not happen in my lifetime. But I promised I would be there for her. You will have to tell her I'm sorry, Leo. Help her if you can."
"Bisabeulo," Esperanza said, "you must be tired." She extended her arms to take the baby, but the old man cuddled him a moment longer. Baby Leo seemed perfectly fine with it. "Tell her I'm sorry I sold the diamond, eh?" Sammy said.
"I broke my promise. When she disappeared in Alaska...ah, so long ago, I finally used that diamond, moved to Texas as I always dreamed. I started my machine shop. Started my family! It was a good life, but Hazel was right. The diamond came with a curse. I never saw her again."
"Oh, Sammy," Hazel said. "No, a curse didn't keep me away. I wanted to come back. I died!" The old man didn't seem to hear. He smiled down at the baby, and kissed him on the head. "I give you my blessing, Leo."
"First male great-grandchild! I have a feeling you are special, like Hazel was. You are more than a regular baby, eh? You will carry on for me. You will see her someday. Tell her hello for me." "Bisabuelo," Esperanza said, a little more insistently.
"Yes, yes." Sammy chuckled. "El viejo loco rambles on. I am tired, Esperanza. You are right. But I'll rest soon. It's been a good life. Raise him well, nieta." The scene faded. Leo was standing on the deck of the Argo II, holding Hazel's hand.
The sun had gone down, and the ship was lit only by bronze lanterns. Hazel's eyes were puffy from crying. What they'd seen was too much. The whole ocean heaved under them, and now for the first time Leo felt as if they were totally adrift.
"Hello, Hazel Levesque," he said, his voice gravelly. Her chin trembled. She turned away and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the ship lurched to one side. "Leo!" Coach Hedge yelled.
Festus whirred in alarm and blew flames into the night sky. The ship's bell rang. "Those monsters you were worried about?" Hedge shouted. "One of 'em found us!"