ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter eight
━━━━━ THE CLIMB BACK from the Land of the Dead was somehow worse than the climb to the Underworld. Not because it was strenuous. Violet had been at Camp since she was twelve, she had climbed the lava wall countless times by now. She had pretty good arm strength—drawing back bows, swinging across monkey bars in the labyrinth, scaling the lava wall, and holding up the sky ( that was the main one ). But right now, she needed stamina. She and Percy were climbing the steps all the way back to the land of the living.
It didn't help the fact that Violet knew what was coming once she and Percy made it out of the Underworld—battles upon battles. The culmination of war. And sooner than later, the final battle that would determine the fate of the world. So what if Violet doesn't want to face that? It's a very reasonable feeling all things considered!
The further she and Percy ascended, the more they started to trip. They were climbing back up the stairs, but they felt much more steeper and more rocky than hours before. And Violet also hasn't slept since ... She didn't know, actually. Her best guess was that it was noon, now; so she's been awake for over a day. So it was mainly Violet who was tripping, embarrassingly enough. To make it worse, it felt like the stairs still went on forever even after crossing them hours before.
"This feels endless ..." the daughter of Eros grumbled, her foot getting caught on the edge of a step. She hissed as she scraped her knees against the rocks.
Percy looked back. "You okay?"
"Does it look like I'm okay?"
"Well ... no." He stopped and retraced a couple of steps. He grabbed Violet by the arms and helped her stand up. "You seem ... grouchier, Vi."
She frowned at him. "You know how to make a girl feel great about herself."
"I didn't say anything about how you ..." he stuttered for a moment, waving a hand at her, "look. I think you look ... that you look—Forget it! I was trying to ask what happened while I was in that cell."
"Persephone," she answered easily, climbing the steps after the son of Poseidon. Mrs. O'Leary bounded ahead of them again, and her barks were the only indicators as to where she was ( but that didn't help considering every sound echoed in the dingy stairwell ). "And Demeter. Mainly Persephone, though."
"What'd you talk about?"
Violet didn't answer for a bit, noticing a bit of sunlight streaming through the rocks. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Percy, we're back! Thank the gods. Didn't think I could ever hate some stairs some more."
She hurried him up, the booming barks of Mrs. O'Leary becoming louder and louder as they climbed the rocky stairs. Once they were maybe five steps away, the rocks started trembling, and they soon split open to reveal the green Central Park.
Mrs. O'Leary ducked outside, running around the now-populated park. Percy and Violet quickly escaped, and Violet grabbed the hellhound by the collar before she could go and sniff some mortal children.
The rocks rumbled closed behind them, and Violet wiped her hands of any dirt from the passage. "Thank the gods were out of that," she murmured.
Percy looked at her. "What were you saying about Persephone?" he asked.
She pursed her lips. "Maybe another time. Look, we need to get campers here to fight off the invasion."
"Oh. Right." Percy started patting down his pant pockets, digging out what looked to be Sally's phone. He flipped it open and quickly dialed a phone number; it had to be Annabeth's considering she was one of few ( if not the only demigod ) to have a cellphone on her. "What should I tell her?" he asked Violet as the phone started ringing, waiting for Annabeth to answer.
"Tell her to ..." the daughter of Eros shrugged, "bring the rest of the campers to Olympus? That there is some trap that's going to happen? We can come up with a better plan over at Olympus. I dunno, Percy. Planning isn't my thing; it's Annabeth's thing."
Percy pursed his lips. "We need to speak with the gods."
She snorted. "Good luck with that. They're off fighting Typhon, remember?"
He didn't answer her, quickly telling what sounded to be Annabeth's voicemail to take the vans and come to the Empire State Building. He ended it ominously, saying, "We'll speak with the gods."
Violet raised her eyebrows as he tucked the phone into his back pocket. "You sure we'll be able to talk to them?"
"Not at all." Percy turned towards the entrance to Central Park. "C'mon. We need to hail a taxi."
🌷
The nice thing about New York? No one bats an eye when two teenagers look like they crawled their way through the dirtiest and dustiest basement imaginable hail a taxi. No one bats an eye either when that taxi heads down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping along behind. Of course, that all probably had to do with the Mist; however, Violet also knew that New Yorkers minded their business ( something she found hard to do ). People probably couldn't see Mrs. O'Leary, or maybe they thought she was a large, loud, very friendly truck.
On the way down Fifth Avenue, Percy called Annabeth again. This time, she answered. "Hey," he greeted. "Get my message?"
"Percy, where have you been? And where's Violet? AJ nearly ripped my head off, you know!" Annabeth's voice filtered through the speakers. Percy glanced Violet's way; she shrugged as if to say Figured that's what she'd ask. "Your message said almost nothing! We've been worried sick!"
"I'll fill you in later," he promised hastily. But Violet had no idea how they were going to tell Annabeth that she, Nico, and Percy broke into the Underworld ( again ) and that Percy bathed in the River Styx. "Where are you?"
"We're on our way like you asked, almost to the Queens Midtown Tunnel. But, Percy, what are you planning? We've left the camp virtually undefended and there's no way the gods—"
"Trust me," he insisted. "I'll see you there."
And then he hung up. Violet noticed his hands were shaking as he placed the phone in his lap. She gently placed a hand over his and quickly looked out the taxi window to her right. "He should really clean these," she told the son of Poseidon under her breath, nodding to the window.
He glanced at her, but turned his hand over to grab her's, intertwining their fingers. "Maybe give him an extra five bucks and he will, Love Bug."
"I don't have an extra five bucks, Fish Face."
It was late afternoon when the taxi dropped her and Percy at the Empire State Building. Mrs. O'Leary bounded up and down Fifth Avenue, licking random cabs and sniffing hotdog carts. Nobody seemed to notice her, although people did swerve away and look confused when she came close. Violet whistled for the hellhound to heal as three white vans pulled up to the curb. Each van read Delphi Strawberry Service, which was the cover name for Camp Half-Blood. She had never seen all three vans in the same place at once, though she knew they shuttled the fresh produce picked from the strawberry fields into the city.
The first van was driven by Argus, Camp Half-Blood's many-eyed security chief. The other two were driven by harpies, which are basically demonic human/chicken hybrids with bad attitudes. The camp used the harpies mostly for cleaning Camp ( they made amazing dishwashers considering the water wasn't water but lava ), but they did pretty well in midtown traffic, too.
The doors slid open, and the vans were surprisingly quiet considering a bunch of teenagers were hoarded inside. A bunch of campers climbed out, some of them looking a little green from the long drive. She was glad so many had come—Pollux Winward, Silena Beauregard, Travis and Connor, Jake Mason. She even had to be glad to see Katie Gardner and Michael Yew even after they both accused her of being Kronos's spy. AJ climbed out, telling Annabeth something as the rest of her siblings climbed out after him. Chiron wheeled out of the very van last. His horse half was compacted into his magic wheelchair, so he used the handicap lift. The Ares Cabin wasn't here, but Violet was surprised by that. Cabin Five got their egos from Ares, and Ares's ego was easy to bruise ( and he held a grudge ).
All in all, there were about forty campers. That wasn't ever going to be enough to fight Kronos and his monster army, but that was the best they could pull together. Violet had never seen so many half-bloods grouped together outside of Camp Half-Blood, either. Everyone looked as nervous as she felt, and she understood why—the forty of them were probably sending out so much demigod aura that every monster in the northeast United States knew where they were.
Violet looked around at the demigods, but she jumped slightly when she realized Percy was staring at her. "What? Do I look funny?"
He frowned. "Why ask that?"
"Well, you're looking at me funny."
"Oh." He shrugged, his fingers thumbing the end of his shirt. "Nothing."
Annabeth approached them before Violet could pry more. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the internet, whichever came first.
AJ was behind her, tugging at the Celestial bronze sword that hung on his side. He wore black too, only it wasn't camouflage; he wore a black shirt, pants, and his well-worn boots. He looked between Percy and Violet. "You two look like you climbed through some dead grandmother's spider-infested basement."
Annabeth shot him a look. "Did you have to say spider-infested? Now I'm going to be itching."
He gave her a very unapologetic frown. "Sorry, Owl Eyes."
Violet looked down at her clothes, trying to brush the dirt off. "Something like that," she told AJ.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Who's dead grandma's basement, then?"
"There was no dead grandma, AJ," Percy told him. Then, he turned to the rest of the group. "Thanks for coming, everybody. Chiron, after you."
The old teacher shook his head. "I came to wish you luck, my boy. But I make it a point never to visit Olympus unless I am summoned."
"But you're our leader."
He smiled. "I am your trainer, your teacher. That is not the same as being your leader. I will go gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help. Meanwhile, you called the campers here, Percy. You are the leader."
Percy inhaled sharply between his teeth. He looked at all the expectantly-watching campers. He steeled his shoulders, saying, "Okay, like I told Annabeth on the phone, something bad is going to happen by tonight. Some kind of trap. We've got to get an audience with Zeus and convince him to defend the city. Remember, we can't take No for an answer."
Violet asked Argus to watch Mrs. O'Leary. Mrs. O'Leary whined when she realized what Violet was saying, but she leaned down and whispered to the hellhound. Mrs. O'Leary gave one last long whine, but she lay down on the sidewalk and watched Argus. The many-eyed man scratched between the eyes on his elbow and watched the hellhound with the same apprehension.
Chiron shook Percy'shand. "You'll do well, Percy. Just remember your strengths and beware your weaknesses."
It sounded eerily close to what Achilles had told Percy. Then Violet remembered Chiron had taught Achilles.
Percy nodded and gave the centaur what was painfully obvious to be his I want to cry smile. "Let's go," he told the campers.
🌷
A security guard was sitting behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a flower on the cover. He glanced up when all forty campers filed in with their weapons and armor clanking. "School group? We're about to close up."
Violet frowned. "There's no way we look like a group of school kids."
AJ shrugged. "Mist?"
"No," Percy said, resting his arms on the front desk. "Six-hundredth floor."
The guard eyed all forty of them. His eyes were pale blue and his head was completely bald. Violet couldn't tell if he was human or not, but he seemed to notice the weapons, so she figured the Mist didn't fool him.
"There is no six-hundredth floor, kid." He said it like it was a required line he didn't believe. "Move along."
Percy leaned across the desk. "Forty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want us hanging out in your lobby?"
Violet plucked at Larkspur's string bow, glancing at Percy once then twice. There was no way she found that attractive.
The guard thought about what Percy told him. Then he hit a buzzer and the security gate swung open. "Make it quick."
"You don't want us going through the metal detectors," Percy added.
"Um, no," he agreed. "Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way."
The son of Poseidon tossed the security guard a golden drachma and the demigods marched through. It would take two trips to get everybody up, and Violet went with the first group, along with Percy, Annabeth, and AJ. She never put much thought into what would play during the elevator ride, but it was that old disco song Stayin' Alive. A terrifying image flashed through her mind—Apollo in bellbottom trousers and a slinky silk shirt. That would be a nightmare.
She was glad when the elevator doors finally dinged open. In front of the first group, a path of floating stones led through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering six thousand feet over Manhattan. Even for Violet, someone who didn't mind heights, the view down was making her queasy ( but maybe that had to do with the fact she hadn't eaten since her visit with Hestia, and that was hours ago ).
She had seen Olympus once before, and that one visit would have never been enough to see the entirety of Olympus. The mansions glittered gold and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloomed on a hundred terraces, and Violet couldn't stare too much—she had a lot more appreciation for flowers now than the winter she had first visited Olympus. Scented smoke rose from braziers that lined the winding streets. And right at the top of the snow-capped crest rose the main palace of the gods. It looked as majestic as ever, but something seemed wrong. Then She realized the mountain was silent—no music, no voices, no laughter. That wasn't normal for Olympus. There was always something going on.
Annabeth studied Percy with narrowed eyes. "You look ... different," she decided. She looked between him and Violet. "Where exactly did you two go?"
AJ snorted to himself. "Unless it's something we don't want to know if you get what I mean—"
Violet flushed an ugly red. "I'll push you off, AJ."
Luckily, the elevator doors opened again and the second group of half-bloods emptying out ended the conversation before it could truly begin. The forty half-bloods made their way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops were closed. The parks were empty. A couple of muses sat on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but their hearts didn't seem to be into it. A lone Cyclops swept the street with an uprooted oak tree. A minor godling spotted the group from a balcony and ducked inside, closing his shutters with a bang! He did not want any potential guests.
The first few passed under a big marble archway with statues of Zeus and Hera on either side. Annabeth made a face at the Queen of the Gods. "Hate her," she muttered.
"Has she been cursing you or something?" AJ frowned. He was as aware of the situation as Violet because she told him; last year Annabeth had gotten on Hera's bad side by not saying Thank you to the goddess. But over the months, Annabeth hadn't really talked about it; Violet didn't blame her either, the previous summer was a hard one.
"Just little stuff so far." Annabeth shrugged. She glanced at Violet, Percy, and AJ. "Her sacred animal is the cow, right?"
Violet nodded. "Yeah, and peacocks, too." But she added; "I think, at least."
"Peacocks, too," agreed Annabeth. "So Hera sends ... cows after me."
Violet blinked at her best friend. Then an image flashed across her mind: a hoard of ten or so brainless cows trailing after her best friend as Annabeth walked down the crowded sidewalks of San Francisco. "You're serious?" She raised her eyebrows at Annabeth.
The daughter of Athena nodded. "Whatever you're thinking—yeah, something like that."
AJ covered a smile. "Cows? In San Francisco?"
"Oh, yeah. Most times, I never saw them. But the cows would always leave me parting gifts. To make sure I knew they were there. 'Presents' in the backyard, on the sidewalk, in the school hallways. I have to be careful where I step."
"Look!" Pollux cried out suddenly, pointing towards the horizon. "What is that?"
Everyone froze at once. Blue lights were streaking across the evening sky towards Olympus like tiny comets. They looked to be coming from all over the city, heading straight towards the mountain. As they got close, they fizzled out. Violet watched them for several minutes and they didn't seem to do any damage, but still, it was strange.
"Like infrared scopes," Michael Yew muttered, scowling as he gripped his bow. "We're being targeted."
"Let's get to the palace," Percy decided.
No one was guarding the hall of the gods. The gold and silver doors stood wide open as if knowing a hoard of demigods was going to come storming inside. Their footsteps echoed as they walked into the throne room. The throne room had intimated Violet before, partly because of the twelve Olympians, but the vast emptiness of it now was somehow scarier. It was proof things were far, far worse. The place was the size of Madison Square Garden. High above, the blue ceiling glittered with constellations ( Violet quickly looked away when she spotted the Huntress constellation, not wanting to burst into tears then and there ). Twelve giant empty thrones stood in a U around a hearth. In one corner, a house-sized globe of water hovered in the air. And inside the water swam the Ophiotaurus—half-cow, half-serpent.
The Ophiotaurus mooed happily, turning in a circle.
Two years ago, Violet, Percy, and four others spent a good portion of a December trying to save the Ophiotaurus from the Titans, and Percy had become fond of the beast ( but he had a soft heart, even if he tried acting big and bad to look more "manly" at times ). The Ophiotaurus seemed to like Percy, too, even though he had originally thought he was a girl and named him Bessie.
"Hey, man," the son of Poseidon greeted. "They treating you okay?"
Bessie mooed; however, Violet wasn't entirely sure if that was a Yes or a No. She hoped it was an enthusiastic Yes.
The group walked towards the thrones and a woman's voice said, "Hello again, Percy Jackson, Violet Beaumont. You and your friends are welcome."
Hestia stood by the hearth, poking the flames with a stick. She wore the same kind of simple brown dress as she had before, but she was a grown woman now. Violet was glad; it was awkward saying Lady to a goddess who looked like she couldn't be more than nine.
Percy bowed. "Lady Hestia."
He elbowed Violet into a bow. "Lady Hestia," she said through gritted teeth.
A few of the demigods exchanged glances, but they all eventually followed suit with their own bows.
Hestia regarded the boy with her red glowing eyes. "I see you went through with your plan. You bear the curse of Achilles."
The other campers started muttering among themselves: "What did she say?" "What about Achilles?" Violet winced to herself. Annabeth was totally going to grill them for information now. And AJ wasn't going to help either; he'd probably bring out a marshmallow and enjoy the show.
"You must be careful," Hestia warned Percy. "You gained much on your journey. But you are still blind to the most important truth. Perhaps a glimpse is in order."
Annabeth nudged Percy. "Um ... what is she talking about?"
Percy glanced at Hestia, his own face showing confusion. Then, he collapsed. Luckily, Annabeth and Violet caught him by one arm each and helped him stand up. "Percy!" the daughter of Eros yelped. "What happened?"
He looked from the goddess to her. "Did—did you see that?"
She shook her head. "No. Nothing. What did you see?"
He glanced at Hestia, but the goddess's face was expressionless. Instead of answering her, he replied with a question; "How long was I out?"
Annabeth knitted her eyebrows. "Percy, you weren't out at all. You just looked at Hestia for, like, a second and collapsed."
Percy glanced at the group of campers. He straightened, clearing his throat. "Um, Lady Hestia," he said, "we've come on urgent business. We need to see—"
"We know what you need," a man's voice said.
Beside the Goddess of the Hearth, a god shimmered into existence. He looked about twenty-five, with curly salt-and-pepper hair, and elf-ish features Violet saw about half of Cabin Eleven sporting. He wore a military pilot's flight suit, with tiny bird wings fluttering on his helmet and his black leather boots. In the crook of his arm was a long staff entwined with two living serpents.
"I will leave you now," Hestia said, her voice anxious and hasty. She bowed to the aviator and promptly disappeared into smoke. Violet envied the goddess—Hermes, the God of Messengers, did not look happy.
"Hello, Percy." The god's brow furrowed like he was annoyed with the son of Poseidon. Violet glanced at Percy from the corner of her eye. What did Percy do to make Hermes that mad with him?
Percy bowed awkwardly. "Lord Hermes."
Oh, sure, one of the snakes said in Violet's mind. She flinched, forgetting they could talk ( Percy told her once. ) Don't say hi to us. We're just reptiles.
George, the other snake scolded. Be polite.
"Hello, George," Percy amended. "Hey, Martha."
Did you bring us a rat? George asked.
George, stop it, Martha chided. He's busy!
Too busy for rats? George drawled, and Violet could hear his eye-roll even if snakes couldn't actually roll their eyes. That's just sad.
"Um, Hermes." Percy ignored the side conversation George and Martha were having. He looked over to the god, a crease appearing between his brow. "We need to talk to Zeus. It's important."
Hermes's eyes were steely cold. "I am his messenger. May I take a message?"
Behind them, the other demigods shifted restlessly. This wasn't going as planned.
"You guys," said Percy, turning to the demigods behind them. "Why don't you do a sweep of the city? Check the defenses. See who's left in Olympus. Meet Annabeth, Violet, and me back here in thirty minutes."
Silena frowned. "But—"
"That's a good idea," Annabeth broke in, nodding to the daughter of Aphrodite. "Connor and Travis, you two lead."
The Stolls seemed to like that—getting handed an important responsibility right in front of their dad. They usually never led anything except toilet paper raids. But not because they couldn't, but because they got distracted easily. "We're on it!" Travis nodded to Annabeth. He and his brother herded the others out of the throne room, leaving Violet, Annabeth, and Percy with Hermes.
"My lord," Annabeth said. "Kronos is going to attack New York. You must suspect that. My mother must have foreseen it."
"Your mother," Hermes grumbled. He scratched his back with his caduceus, and George and Martha muttered, Ow, ow, ow. "Don't get me started on your mother, young lady. She's the reason I'm here at all. Zeus didn't want any of us to leave the front line. But your mother kept pestering him nonstop, 'It's a trap, it's a diversion,' blah, blah, blah. She wanted to come back herself, but Zeus was not going to let his number-one strategist leave his side while we're battling Typhon. And so, naturally, he sent me to talk to you."
"But it is a trap!" Annabeth insisted. "Is Zeus blind?"
Thunder rolled through the sky, despite the pretty clear sky. Violet eyed it anxiously. Typhon was enough trouble, they didn't need a moody Zeus to make it worse.
"I'd watch the comments, girl," Hermes warned. "Zeus is not blind, nor is he deaf. He has not left Olympus completely undefended."
Violet frowned. "But what about those blue lights—"
"Yes, yes. I saw them." Hermes waved her off dismissively. Violet frowned; she could see the resemblance between him and Luke, but not so much between the god and Connor or Travis. "Some mischief by that insufferable Goddess of Magic, Hecate, I'd wager—but you may have noticed they aren't doing any damage, have you, Daughter of Eros? Olympus has strong magical wards. Besides, Aeolus, the King of the Winds, has sent his most powerful minions to guard the citadel. No one save the gods can approach Olympus from the air. They would be knocked out of the sky."
Percy raised his hand like he was in a classroom. "Um ... what about that materializing/teleporting thing you guys do?"
"That's a form of air travel, too, Jackson. Very fast, but the wind gods are faster. No—if Kronos wants Olympus, he'll have to march through the entire city with his army and take the elevators! Can you see him doing this?"
Hermes made it sound pretty ridiculous—hordes of monsters going up in the elevator twenty at a time, listening to Stayin' Alive. But still, something was going to happen. Maybe it wasn't hordes of monsters going through the elevator, but it would still knock Olympus off the Empire State Building at the very least.
"Maybe just a few of you could come back," Percy suggested.
Hermes shook his head impatiently. "Percy Jackson, you don't understand. Typhon is our greatest enemy."
Violet exchanged a look with Percy. "I was always told your greatest enemy was Kronos," she said.
The god's eyes glowed. "No, Beaumont. In the old days, Olympus was almost overthrown by Typhon. He is the husband of Echidna—"
"Met her at the Arch," Percy muttered. "Not nice."
"—and the father of all monsters. We can never forget how close he came to destroying us all—how he humiliated us! We were more powerful back in the old days. Now we can expect no help from Poseidon because he's fighting his own war. Hades sits in his realm and does nothing, and Demeter and Persephone follow his lead." ( Violet winced to herself at that. That jab, even if not directed at her, felt personal. ) "It will take all our remaining power to oppose the storm giant. We can't divide our forces, nor wait until he gets to New York. We have to battle him now. And we're making progress."
"Progress?" Percy repeated, his expression egregious. "He nearly destroyed St. Louis."
"Yes," Hermes admitted. "But he destroyed only half of Kentucky. He's slowing down. Losing power."
Violet decided it wasn't the time for arguments. Hermes sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than convince the demigods before him. In the corner, the Ophiotaurus mooed sadly.
"Please, Lord Hermes," Annabeth tried once again. "You said my mother wanted to come. Did she give you any messages for us?"
"Messages," he muttered, his face pulling into a scowl. "'It'll be a great job,' they told me. 'Not much work. Lots of worshippers.' Hmph. Nobody cares what I have to say. It's always about other people's messages."
Rodents, George mused. I'm in it for the rodents.
Shh, Martha scolded. We care what Hermes has to say. Don't we, George?
Oh, absolutely. Can we go back to the battle now? I want to do laser mode again. That's fun.
"Quiet, both of you," Hermes grumbled. The god looked at Annabeth, who was doing her "big pleading grey eyes" thing. He sighed laboriously. "Your mother said to warn you that you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if I didn't know that. Why they pay her to be the wisdom goddess, I'm not sure."
"Anything else?" Annabeth asked.
"She said you should try plan twenty-three. She said you would know what that meant."
Annabeth's face paled. Obviously, she knew what it meant, and that she didn't like "plan twenty-three" whatever it was. "Go on," she prompted.
"Last thing." Hermes looked at Percy. "She said to tell Percy: 'Remember the rivers.'"
Violet glanced the son of Poseidon's way. "Um ... what does that mean?" she asked the god.
Hermes shrugged. "Perhaps Eros knows, Beaumont. By the way, Aphrodite wanted me to tell you—pink armor is better."
"Right. 'Course she would think that."
"Thank you, Hermes," Annabeth said. "And I—I wanted to say ... I'm sorry about Luke."
The god's expression hardened like he'd turned to marble. "You should've left that subject alone."
Annabeth stepped back nervously. "Sorry?"
"Sorry doesn't cut it!"
George and Martha curled around the caduceus, which shimmered and changed into something that looked suspiciously like a high-voltage cattle prod. "You should've saved him when you had the chance," Hermes growled at Annabeth, his expression flashing like a lightning storm. "You're the only one who could have."
Violet frowned. "That's not true!" she protested, stepping forward to grab her friend by the arm. She knew what Hermes was talking about, and he was wrong. Luke could only save himself, and he didn't want that. He wanted to bring the end of Olympus.
"Don't defend her, Beaumont!" Hermes turned the cattle prod towards Violet. And she realized he wasn't just mad at the world, he was mad at Annabeth specifically. "She knows exactly what I'm talking about."
"And I do too!" she snapped back. "And you are wrong, Hermes!"
Percy quickly stepped forward. "Maybe you should blame yourself!" he snapped. "Maybe if you hadn't abandoned Luke and his mom!"
Hermes raised his cattle prod properly this time, and he was aiming for Percy. He began to grow until he was ten feet tall. But as he prepared to strike, George and Martha leaned in close and whispered something in his ear.
Hermes clenched his teeth. He lowered the cattle prod and it turned back to a staff. "Percy Jackson," he said, "because you have taken on the Curse of Achilles, I must spare you. You are in the hands of the Fates now. But you will never speak to me like that again. You have no idea how much I have sacrificed, how much—" His voice broke, and he shrank back to human size. "My son, my greatest pride ... my poor May ..."
Violet watched in stunned silence. Seconds ago, she was certain that all three of them were dead, and now, it looked like Hermes was about to fall to his knees in utter grief.
"Look, Lord Hermes," Percy started, looking like he was suffering from whiplash too. "I'm sorry, but I need to know: What happened to May? She said something about Luke's fate, and her eyes—"
Hermes glared at him and Percy's voice faltered. The look on his face wasn't really anger, though. It was pain. Deep, incredible pain. A type of pain that could only be caused by love. "I will leave you now," he said tightly. "I have a war to fight."
He began to shine. Violet turned, pulling Annabeth with her because her friend still seemed frozen with shock.
Good luck, Percy, Martha the snake whispered.
Hermes glowed with the light of a supernova. Then he was gone.
🌷
Annabeth sat at the foot of her mother's throne and sobbed into her hands. Violet watched on in shock. She wasn't sure she had ever seen her friend cry so much, not even the night after learning it was Luke who was the lightning thief so many summers ago. Each sob Annabeth gave seemed to claw its way out of her throat, clawing its way out of a place she kept them locked up tight but no longer could anymore.
As much as Violet liked to pride herself on being a "people's person", she had no idea what to do when people had emotions. She could barely process her own emotions, let alone know how to help people through their complicated emotions. She was no "matchmaker", she was no "therapist", and she was hardly a "friend" the way she sat motionless beside Annabeth as her friend sobbed into Violet's shoulder.
"Annabeth," Percy started hesitantly, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, "it's not your fault. I've never seen Hermes act that way. I guess—I don't know—he probably feels guilty about Luke. He's looking for somebody to blame. I don't know why he lashed out at you. You didn't do anything to deserve that."
Annabeth wiped her eyes. She stared at the hearth like it was her own funeral pyre.
He shifted uneasily. "Um, you didn't, right?"
She didn't answer for a moment. Then, she looked up at him. "Percy," she said. "What did you mean about Luke's mother? Did you meet her?"
Violet and Percy shared a nervous glance. Here was the dreaded time of trying to either worm their way out of answering Annabeth, or being honest with her and then receiving her wrath. Violet would've much rather tested her luck by worming her way out of answering.
"Um ..." Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, maybe. Violet, Nico, and I visited her. She was a little ... different."
"That's one way of putting it." The daughter of Eros rolled her eyes. "Her eyes glowed green and she baked non-stop but burnt everything she made. She thought Nico and Percy were somehow both Luke, and that I was Thalia." She glanced over to Percy, hesitant to share the last bit of disturbing detail. "Ms. Castellan also ... talked about Luke's fate. Like, a lot."
Annabeth frowned. "That doesn't make sense. But why were you visiting—" Her eyes widened, and she looked between Percy and Violet quickly. "Hermes said you bear the Curse of Achilles, Percy. Hestia said the same thing. Did you—did you bathe in the River Styx?"
"Don't change the subject."
"Percy!" She stood up quickly; Violet ducked her head, twisting a braid around her finger. "Did you or not?"
"Um ..." He glanced around anxiously. "Maybe a little."
She looked from Percy to Violet, who still refused to look at the daughter of Athena. "Why were you with them?" she asked Violet.
The daughter of Eros glanced up hesitantly. "Can I tell you moral support?"
Annabeth's eyes hardened. "That's a stupid answer. And you're stupid to think I'd let you tell me that."
"... How about—Shit, I don't have an excuse, okay? It's just ..." she shrugged, crossing her arms, "reasons."
"Reasons?" repeated Annabeth incredulously. "The same reasons you disappeared for those two weeks last summer and then just marched inside Daedalus's workshop with Nico and some monsters?"
"Similar reasons, yeah." Violet bristled. "I also haven't told you for those same reasons, Annabeth. You don't have to know everything, you know."
Annabeth stared at Violet for a second, then her head jerked towards Percy. She looked back to Violet just as quickly, her expression bordering on fury. "You're fucking kidding me—"
"Look," Percy quickly broke in, sending Violet a look that clearly read to Shut up; she scowled, but her mouth clamped shut. "Violet was there as we used Orpheus's Door to get to the Underworld ..." He explained it all, for the most part at least. He told Annabeth about Hades, Persephone, and Demeter ( though he carefully avoided mentioning anything that could sound like Persephone had a daughter, Elain Nevitt ), he then told Annabeth about being locked up and Violet and Nico breaking him out. He mentioned bathing in the Styx, and then coming out and being able to take down an entire undead army without getting a scratch on him.
She shook her head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"
"I had no choice," he insisted. "It's the only way I can stand up to Luke."
"You didn't stop him?" she asked Violet.
The daughter of Eros shrugged. "He has a point—it's the only way Percy stands a chance against Luke."
He frowned at her. "Thanks, Love Bug. Making me feel real confident now ..."
"You mean ..." Annabeth looked between the two, and Violet could see the gears churning in her head. "Di immortales, of course! That's why Luke didn't die. He went to the Styx and—Oh no, Luke. What were you thinking?"
"So now you're worried about Luke again," Percy grumbled.
She stared at him like he had just dropped from space. "What?"
"Forget it," Violet quickly spoke up. "It doesn't matter. Look—Percy didn't die in the Styx. That's a good thing! He now stands a chance against Luke, who also bathed in the River Styx."
"Now I have to face him." Percy's arms crossed as he looked off. His jaw twitched as he stared at his father's gigantic throne. "We have to defend Olympus."
Annabeth was still studying their faces, like she was trying to pick out the truths she knew they were keeping from her. "I guess you're right. My mom mentioned—"
"Plan twenty-three."
She rummaged in her pack and pulled out Daedalus's laptop. The blue Delta symbol glowed on the top when she booted it up. She opened a few files and started to read. "Here it is," she declared. "Gods, we have a lot of work to do."
"One of Daedalus's inventions?" Violet asked, leaning closer to look at the screen.
"A lot of inventions ... dangerous ones. If my mother wants me to use this plan, she must think things are very bad." She looked at Percy. "What about her message to you: 'Remember the rivers'? What does that mean?"
He shook his head and shrugged. "No idea," he admitted. "Could be talking about the Styx. Maybe she knows I bathed in the Styx being, you know, the wisdom goddess and all. She could also be talking about the Mississippi."
Violet glanced up at him. "Mississippi?"
He shrugged.
Just then the Stoll brothers ran into the throne room. "You need to see this," Connor told them. "Now."
🌷
The blue lights in the sky had stopped, so at first, Violet didn't understand what the problem was. The other campers had gathered in a small park at the edge of the mountain. They were clustered at the guardrail, looking down at Manhattan. The railing was lined with those tourist binoculars, where you could deposit one golden drachma and see the city; campers were using every single one.
Violet looked down at the city. Freakily enough, she could see almost everything from here—the East River and the Hudson River carving the shape of Manhattan, the grid of streets, the lights of skyscrapers, and the dark stretch of Central Park in the north. Everything looked normal, but something was wrong. It was in the air; heavy and burdensome.
"I don't ... hear anything," Annabeth whispered slowly.
"That's the problem," agreed AJ. "It's New York. There's always noise."
The realization hit Violet pretty hard. New York was the most populated city in the United States. It was known for being noisy and boisterous, and to hear nothing was blood-curdling. She should've heard the murmurs of the city—millions of people bustling around, thousands of cars and machines—the hum of a huge metropolis. You don't think about it when you live in New York, but it's always there. Even in the dead of night, New York is never silent.
But it was now.
"What did they do?" Percy demanded, his voice tight with anger. "What did they do to my city?"
He pushed Michael Yew away from one of the binoculars to take a better look. Violet shared one with AJ and peered through—in the streets below, all traffic had stopped. Pedestrians were lying on the sidewalks, or curled up in doorways. There was no sign of violence, no wrecks, nothing like that. It was as if all the people in New York had simply decided to stop whatever they were doing and pass out.
Violet's hands trembled as she held the binoculars. Her mother was somewhere in this city. Did she have any idea what was happening as she fought the sudden bought of sleep? Did she even think anything of it?
"Are they dead?" Silena asked in astonishment.
Violet leaned away from the binoculars as ice coated her stomach. A line from the prophecy rang in her ears: And see the world in endless sleep. She then remembered Grover's story about meeting the god Morpheus in Central Park. You're lucky I'm saving my energy for the main event, the god had told Grover before he was sent to sleep for two months straight.
"Not dead," Percy said. "Morpheus has put the entire island of Manhattan to sleep. The invasion has started."
🌷 APR. 4TH, 2024 / just realized i messed up, like, all across this fic - to make it clear between the both of us, violet arrived a YEAR before percy did (based on the books, that would be around april/may 2005), not a month or so BEFORE percy (he arrived late-may, 2006). just realized how badly i fucked that up *sobs* i was flip-flopping between violet arriving in 2005 or her arriving in 2006 all throughout this fic and ... i want to go back and change it, but i also don't want to because i cringe when i read my own writing :) i wanted to make that clear if anyone was confused - you're confused because i was confused and forgot my OWN oc's backstory *sobs*
are we on the same page? i sure hope so! i will try and edit to make those mistakes right, but it won't happen until i finish this fic and i have no idea when that's gonna be
i didn't want to write this chapter. it physically pains me to write the last olympian, i don't know how else to explain it *sobs* it's all battles, and i hate writing battle scenes; at least violet's an archer because i cringe less writing battle scenes for her than i do than my ocs who use swords, spears, etc. but the reason i cringe is that i use words like "thrust" and i have the humor of a 12yo boy
i know. shameful. but it's FUNNY
anyways, thoughts?? opinions??
(not edited nor proofread)