Percy was happy.
Really happy.
He'd finally found something he was good at. The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to his every command. Which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer, he knew it all. Annabeth tried to be a look out, but sailing didn't really work with her, and after almost throwing up she decided to lay down in a hammock. Which Y/N didn't mind. He and Percy could have some quality bro time.
Sometime after midnight, they came up on a volcano. The shore around it bubbled and steamed from the lava. "One of the forges of Hephaestus," Y/N said. "Where he makes his metal monsters."
"Like the bronze bulls?" Percy questioned.
Y/N nodded. "Go around. Far around."
They steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind them. Y/N sat down, leaning against the mast.
"Some lettuce for your thoughts?" Y/N said, raising an eyebrow.
"Lettuce? Where?" Percy whipped his head around. Y/N burst out laughing. Percy blushed furiously. "Shaddup."
"Looks like you're still a bit of a Guinea pig, huh?" Y/N teased. Percy groaned.
"Tell me about it. I've never wanted to eat vegetables as much as I do now."
"You would have made a good pet, I'm sure." Y/N chuckled. Percy raised an eyebrow.
"And you would have made a good slave." Y/N cringed, rubbing his temple.
"Don't remind me." He sighed. "It felt like someone pulled out my brain, spat on it, then stuck it in a washing machine."
"I think you would have become Circe's personal washing machine." Percy laughed.
"I would have liked to see that." A voice said behind them. Annabeth stumbled up the steps, her face still a faint shade of green. Y/N got to his feet.
"Annabeth, you're still seasick." Y/N chided. "Go lay down for a little longer."
"What are you? My dad?" She gritted her teeth, steadying herself on the mast. She sighed, before sitting down, her back against the mast. Y/N frowned, before sitting next to her.
"Soooo..." Percy began. Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "The reason you hate Cyclopes so much... the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?"
Her expression darkened, or maybe it was because it was already dark. "I guess you deserve to know," she said finally. "The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?" Percy nodded. "Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops's lair in Brooklyn."
"They've got Cyclopes in Brooklyn?" Y/N asked.
"You wouldn't believe how many, but that's not the point." Annabeth sighed. "This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone, Percy. Just the way Tyson did aboard the Princess Andromeda. He lured us, one at a time. Thalia thought she was running to save Luke. Luke thought he heard me scream for help. And me... I was alone in the dark. I was seven years old. I couldn't even find the exit."
She brushed the hair out of her face. "I remember finding the main room. There were bones all over the floor. And there were Thalia and Luke and Grover, tied up and gagged, hanging from the ceiling like smoked hams. The Cyclops was starting a fire in the middle of the floor. I drew my knife, but he heard me. He turned and smiled. He spoke, and somehow he knew my dad's voice. I guess he just plucked it out of my mind. He said, 'Now, Annabeth, don't you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. You can stay forever.'"
Nobody said anything. The air seemed to get a little colder.
"What did you do?" Y/N said.
"I stabbed him in the foot."
Percy stared at her. "Are you kidding? You were seven years old and you stabbed a grown Cyclops in the foot?"
"Oh, he would've killed me. But I surprised him. It gave me just enough time to run to Thalia and cut the ropes on her hands. She took it from there."
"Yeah, but still... that was pretty brave, Annabeth." Y/N said.
She shook her head. "We barely got out alive. I still have nightmares. The way that Cyclops talked in my father's voice. It was his fault we took so long getting to camp. All the monsters who'd been chasing us had time to catch up. That's really why Thalia died. If it hadn't been for that Cyclops, she'd still be alive today."
The sat on the deck, watching the Hercules constellation rise in the night sky.
"Go below, Percy." Annabeth said. "You need some rest." Percy nodded, trudging down below to lay in the hammock. A comfortable silence filled the air, with waves calmly lapping at the sides of the boat. Y/N and Annabeth sat shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the stars.
"What was Thalia like?" Y/N said, breaking the silence. Annabeth smiled.
"Pretty much an exact copy of Percy." She said. "I mean, sure, she was annoying, but brave and strong. She was an amazing fighter as well."
"I want to meet her some day." Y/N said. "She sounds fun."
"Who knows?" Annabeth replied. "Maybe we will. In fact, the fleece could..." She stopped herself.
"You think the fleece could change her back?" Y/N said. Annabeth thought for a moment, before shaking her head.
"I doubt it." She sighed. "Even if it could reverse her curse, who knows what she would be like. She might be the same age, or she could be as old as Luke. She could be perfectly fine, or completely insane. Curses are weird like that."
"I hope I never get cornered by monsters." Y/N muttered. "Hestia would probably turn me into bread or something."
"You would make a nice loaf of sourdough." Annabeth giggled.
"Hey! How dare..." Y/N yawned loudly.
"Someone's tired." Annabeth smirked. Y/N nodded, standing up.
"I think I'll go hit the sack... or hit the hammock... I dunno." He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Night Annie." He called.
"Night Firecracker." She replied, before a look of annoyance crossed her face. "Hey! I told you not to call me that!" But Y/N was already gone.
.
.
.
Y/N's dreams were weird. He was worried he might dream about his teeth falling out again, but this one was different He found himself back in Luke's stateroom aboard the Princess Andromeda. The curtains were open. It was night time outside. The air swirled with shadows. Voices whispered all around him, spirits of the dead. Beware, they whispered. Traps. Trickery.
Kronos's golden sarcophagus glowed faintly, being the only source of light in the room.
A cold laugh startled him. It seemed to come from miles below the ship. "You don't have the courage, young one. You can't stop me."
Y/N knew what he had to do. He had to open that coffin. His bracelet, morphed, slowly transforming into a bronze coloured sword. Ghosts whirled around him like a tornado. Beware! His heart pounded.
Then a girl spoke right next to him: "Well, Firecracker?"
Y/N looked over, expecting to see Annabeth, but the girl wasn't Annabeth. She wore punk-style clothes with silver chains on her wrists. She had spiky black hair, dark eye-liner around her stormy blue eyes, and a spray of freckles across her nose.
"Well?" she asked. "Are we going to stop him or not?"
He couldn't answer. He couldn't move. The girl rolled her eyes. "Fine. Leave it to me and Aegis." She tapped her wrist, and her silver chains transformed, flattening and expanding into a huge shield. It was silver and bronze, with the monstrous face of Medusa protruding from the centre. It looked like a massive mask, as if the gorgon's real head had been pressed into the metal. Y/N looked away in fear.
The girl drew her sword and advanced on the sarcophagus. The shadowy ghosts parted for her, scattering before the terrible aura of her shield.
"No," Y/N tried to warn her. But she didn't listen. She marched straight up to the sarcophagus and pushed aside the golden lid.
For a moment, she stood there, gazing down at whatever was in the box. The coffin began to glow.
"No." The girl's voice trembled. "It can't be."
From the depths of the ocean, Kronos laughed so loudly the whole ship trembled.
"No!" The girl screamed as the sarcophagus engulfed her in a blast of golden light. "Ah!"
Y/N sat bolt upright in his hammock, with Percy shaking him. "Dude, you were having a nightmare. You need to get up."
"What is it?" Y/N rubbed his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Land," he said grimly. "We're approaching the island of the Sirens."
.
.
.
Y/N could barely make out the island ahead, the dark mist casting a shadowy veil.
"I want you two do me a favour," Annabeth said. "The Sirens... we'll be in range of their singing soon."
"No problem," Percy shrugged. "We can just stop up our ears. There's a big tub of candle wax below deck—"
"I want to hear them." Annabeth said firmly.
Y/N and Percy looked at each other in confusion. "Why?"
"They say the Sirens sing the truth about what you desire. They tell you things about yourself you didn't even realize. That's what's so enchanting." Annabeth looked wistful. "If you survive... you become wiser. I want to hear them. How often will I get that chance?"
Y/N shrugged. "Well, it's your funeral." As soon as the rocky coastline of the island came into view, Percy ordered one of the ropes to wrap around Annabeth's waist, tying her to the foremast.
"Don't untie me," she said, "no matter what happens or how much I plead. I'll want to go straight over the edge and drown myself."
"Don't tempt me." Percy smirked.
"Ha-ha." Y/N took two large wads of candle wax, kneaded them into earplugs, and stuffed his ears. Percy did the same.
The silence was eerie. Y/N fidgeted with his bracelet nervously. As they approached the island, jagged rocks loomed out of the fog. Percy willed the Queen Anne's Revenge to skirt around them.
Y/N glanced back. At first, Annabeth seemed totally normal. Then she got a puzzled look on her face. Her eyes widened. She strained against the ropes. She called Percy and Y/N's name. Her expression was clear: She had to get out. This was life or death.
Y/N and Percy glanced at each other, before Percy shook his head. They had to keep going. They forced themselves to look away. Percy urged the Queen Anne's Revenge to go faster. There wasn't much to see of the island, but floating in the water were pieces of wood and fiberglass, the wreckage of old ships, even some flotation cushions from airplanes.
Annabeth was pleading. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She strained against the ropes, as if they were holding her back from everything she cared about. Y/N glanced back, his own eyes brimming with tears. Percy knew it was in Y/N's nature to keep others safe, so this probably felt like torture for him.
Percy wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulder, with his left hand still on the wheel of The Queen Anne's Revenge. Y/N managed not to look at her for about five minutes. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he looked back and found... a heap of cut ropes. An empty mast. Annabeth's bronze knife lay on the deck.
Y/N peeled Percy's arm off him, rushing to the side of the boat. Percy looked at him strangely, before noticing the empty mast. As Y/N sprinted for the side of the boat, his foot caught on a stray rope laying on the deck. He tripped, slamming into the deck. Percy rushed over to him, helping Y/N to his feet.
Y/N massaged his head, before freezing up. His pupils dilated. Percy glanced at his right ear, which didn't have a plug.
"Y/N..." Percy tried to say. He didn't listen. He pushed Percy away, before promptly diving into the water. Percy watched in horror as Y/N began to swim madly for the shore. Percy looked back at the pilot's wheel and yelled, "Stay!" Then he jumped over the side. He sliced into the water and willed the currents to bend around him, making a jet stream that shot him forward. Percy cam to the surface, spotting Y/N and Annabeth paddling madly for the shore. Y/N was somehow much further away from Percy, as if the island was willing the waves to push him closer to the shore.
Percy dove under the wrecked hull of a yacht, wove through a collection of floating metal balls on chains, and twisted and turned under nets of barbed wire and and nets. He jetted between the two rock fangs and pulled into a half-moon-shaped bay. The water was choked with more rocks and ship wreckage and floating mines. The beach was black volcanic sand. He looked around desperately for Annabeth and Y/N. They had made it past the mines and the rocks. Annabeth was almost to the black beach. Then the mist cleared and Percy saw them. The Sirens.
A flock of vultures the size of people, with dirty black plumage, grey talons, and wrinkled pink necks. But human heads on top of those necks, and human heads kept changing. As their mouths moved, their faces morphed into people Percy knew, Sally, Poseidon, Grover, Tyson, Chiron. They smiled reassuringly, inviting him forward. But no matter what shape they took, their mouths were greasy and caked with the remnants of old meals. Like vultures, they'd been eating with their faces, and it didn't look like they'd been feasting on Monster Donuts. Annabeth and Y/N toward them. Percy propelled himself forward grabbing Y/N's ankle. The moment he touched him, a shock went through Percy's body, and he saw the Sirens the way Y/N was seeing them.
Four people sat next to the hearth in Camp Half-blood. Percy recognized Jeremy, one of Y/N closest friends. Next to Jeremy was... Percy? Another version of him, smiling and laughing. Next to fake-Percy, was Annabeth. Talking with... Hestia. But it wasn't Hestia. She always dressed in very plain and subtle clothing. This Hestia was regal. Royalty, even. She wore a beautiful orange sleeveless dress, and her hair was braided, with wildflowers intertwined with it. And on her head was a crown. Not something real-Hestia would have worn. But Percy knew what this fake-Hestia was. She was a rightful Olympian. She was the head of the Gods. The ruler of the universe.
In the background, the entirety of Camp half-blood all sat at cabin benches, laughing and talking. Except.. there wasn't any cabin benches. No separation. No rivalry. Just one big massive family. Percy recognized many of the kids from Apollo sitting with Ares children. The cabin's weren't labelled either, and Percy had a feeling that it wouldn't matter who your parent was. It just mattered who you wanted to spend time with.
Percy shuddered and blinked, and his vision cleared. All he saw were the Sirens ragged vultures with human faces, ready to feed on another victim. Percy pulled on Y/N's leg, dragging him away from the surf. Y/N tried to fight back, but Percy had the advantage in the water. He willed the currents to pull Y/N away from the shore. Y/N tried to fight back, but he was pulled away, almost like he was caught in a riptide. Percy glanced towards Annabeth, who was now able to stand in the water. Percy rocketed towards her, grabbing her arm. Immediately, he saw what she was seeing.
Three people sat on a picnic blanket in Central Park. A feast was spread out before them. There was an older guy, an athletic looking, sandy-haired man in his forties, which Percy assumed was her dad. He was holding hands with a beautiful woman who looked a lot like Annabeth. She was dressed casually, wearing blue jeans and a denim shirt and hiking boots, but something about the woman radiated power. Percy knew that he was looking at the goddess Athena. Next to them sat a young man... Luke.
The whole scene glowed in a warm, buttery light. The three of them were talking and laughing, and when they saw Annabeth, their faces lit up with delight. Annabeth's mom and dad held out their arms invitingly. Luke grinned and gestured for Annabeth to sit next to him, as if he'd never betrayed her, as if he were still her friend. Behind the trees of Central Park, a city skyline rose. It was Manhattan, but not Manhattan. It had been totally rebuilt from dazzling white marble, bigger and grander than ever, with golden windows and rooftop gardens. It was better than New York. Better than Mount Olympus.
Percy shook his head, blinking hard hard. Instantly, the whole scene darkened. The sirens returned to their ugly, grotesque form. Percy pulled Annabeth back into the water. Annabeth pummelled and kicked him, but Percy held on, willing currents to take them away. Percy spotted Y/N, who was swimming at him head on, completely unaware that he was about to collide into Percy.
Percy grabbed him, willing the currents to take them further out, back to the ship. Now, with just Annabeth, Percy might have been able to do it just fine. But with two demigods thrashing and punching him, Percy knew it was a lost cause. They collided with a floating bit of debris, and went under the water slightly. Instantly, Y/n and Annabeth stopped fighting, displaying looks of confusion. Then they broke the surface and Y/N and Annabeth started to fight again.
'The water! Sound doesn't travel well underwater.' Percy thought. He grabbed the two of them and ordered the waves to push all of them down. they shot into the depths. 3 metres, 6 metres. Annabeth and Y/N fought and struggled for breath as bubbles rose around them. Bubbles. Percy had to keep them alive somehow. He imagined all the bubbles in the sea, always churning, rising. He imagined them coming together, being pulled toward him. The sea obeyed. There was a flurry of white, a tickling sensation all around, and when his vision cleared, they had a huge bubble of air the size of a small car around them.
Y/N and Annabeth coughed and spluttered, shuddering violently. Immediately, Annabeth began to cry. Horrible, heartbroken sobbing. She dropped to her knees, crying into her hands. Y/N's face was a look of complete and utter dismay. His face hardened, and he grinded his teeth. But a tear rolled down his own cheek. He clenched his fists, looking down at his feet. Percy awkwardly glanced around, letting them cry for a bit longer.
"We should get back to the ship." Percy said. "Just hang on." Y/N and Annabeth nodded. Percy made the current steer the air submarine through the rocks and barbed wire and back toward the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge, which was maintaining a slow and steady course away from the island. They stayed underwater, following the ship, until Percy decided they had moved out of earshot of the Sirens. Then they surfaced and the air bubble popped. Percy ordered a rope ladder to drop over the side of the ship, and they all climbed aboard. Percy decided to keep his earplugs in, just to be sure.
They sailed until the island was completely out of sight. Annabeth and Y/N sat huddled around Y/N's bracelet that he had morphed into a portable gas stove. Finally, Y/N looked up, dazed and sad, and mouthed, safe. Percy took out the earplugs. No singing. The afternoon was quiet except for the sound of the waves against the hull. The fog had burned away to a blue sky, as if the island of the Sirens had never existed.
"You guys okay?" Percy asked. The moment he said it, he cringed in his head. 'They obviously aren't ok, idiot.' He thought to himself
"I didn't realize," Annabeth murmured. Her eyes were the same colour as the mist over the Sirens' island. "How powerful the temptation would be."
"I'm never using candle wax for earplugs again." Y/N murmured.
"I saw the way you rebuilt Manhattan," Percy blurted out. "And Luke and your parents." Y/N looked at him strangely.
But Annabeth blushed. "You saw that?"
"What Luke told you back on the Princess Andromeda, about starting the world from scratch... that really got to you, huh?"
Annabeth nodded. "My fatal flaw. That's what the Sirens showed me. My fatal flaw is hubris."
Percy blinked. "That brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches?"
"No, kelp head. That's hummus." Y/N rolled his eyes. "Hubris is worse."
"What could be worse than hummus?" Percy joked.
"Hubris means deadly pride, Percy." Annabeth said. "Thinking you can do things better than anyone else... even the gods."
"You feel that way?" Percy asked.
She looked down. "Don't you ever feel like, what if the world really is messed up? What if we could do it all over again from scratch? No more war. Nobody homeless. No more summer reading homework. I mean, the West represents a lot of the best things mankind ever did, and that's why the fire is still burning. That's why Olympus is still around. But sometimes you just see the bad stuff, you know? And you start thinking the way Luke does: 'If I could tear this all down, I would do it better.' Don't you ever feel that way? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world?"
"Uh... no. Me running the world would kind of be a nightmare." Percy frowned.
"Then you're lucky. Hubris isn't your fatal flaw."
"What's mine then?"
"Who knows, Percy." Y/N sighed. "I don't know mine either, but every hero has one."
"And if you don't find it and learn to control it... well, they don't call it 'fatal' for nothing." Annabeth finished.
There was silence for a bit as Percy absorbed that information. "So was it worth it?" He asked Annabeth. "Do you feel... wiser?"
"I sure don't," Y/N muttered, curling the flames around his hands. Annabeth gazed into the distance.
"I'm not sure. But we have to save the camp. If we don't stop Luke..." Annabeth's eyes widened. "Guys..." they turned. Up ahead was another blotch of land, a saddle-shaped island with forested hills and white beaches and green meadows.
"30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west." Percy whispered.
The home of the Cyclops.