pocket full of posies
❛ ix. to start and end ❜
━━━━━ ANOTHER NIGHTMARE; Posie shouldn't expect any different. That was, after all, her specialty. Well, beyond ... plagues. The only thing different, Liviana, the girl with glowing green eyes, spoke.
During another one of her dreams, Posie had seen Liviana last summer as she, Percy, and Annabeth sailed through the Sea of Monsters hoping to find Grover and the Golden Fleece. Truth be told, since the end of summer, she hadn't thought too much about Liviana—the occasional thought would slip across her mind, but then the remembrance of that dream would bring back the subject of the missing Onesimus, who had first witnessed the dream with Posie. Posie didn't like thinking of Onesimus; it was like a slap to the face, and then a uppercut to the already sore jaw.
That dream, which she witnessed about six months ago, had been one of her strangest dreams at the time. Sure, Posie knew nightmares—she saw the withered version of her father two summers ago when Zeus's master bolt was stolen, and she saw glimpses of Thalia's last moments of life before her father turned her into a pine tree ( before she was resurrected back to life by the Golden Fleece and all ), she even saw old memories of her miserable life with Beau as he was possessed during the night, as he rocked back and forth and whispered things about the Earth, madness, and plagues. So much for foresight; Posie didn't know she had the "gift" of plagues until six months ago, even though her mortal father had whispered it to her years earlier.
She had the occasional dream like that, but not so abundantly as they had once been. Posie wasn't so sure when the shift started, but she had a pretty idea as to why; Hades. Or, the Underworld. She spent so much of her time there—so much time honing her "powers"—that she had no time to focus on dreams. She also knew that Hades had been pulling the strings to some of the dreams. He never claimed his due in the process, but Posie had come to the conclusion—the Lord of the Underworld had curated certain dreams ( old memories of her father, Beau ) to send messages to her. Now, Hades didn't have to hide who he was to her; no more "the man", no more using Beau Easton to speak with Posie, and even no more Onesimus who had been listening to Hades and speaking with Posie.
But that dream—the dream she had witnessed before she threw herself into the ocean to try and reach the Sirens ( not her proudest moment )—had left her pretty muddied. She didn't know what to make of it; people on a ship filled with shields, swords, and spears, and all weapons made out of this golden metal that didn't look like Celestial bronze. Not only that, the ship was filled with people who had been speaking in Latin; they even used names like Mercury and Janus, names like Cassius, Fabricius, and Sulla. They were also talking about the battles they would win, the towns they would take over, and about conquering new lands.
They spoke of sieging Athens.
This dream seemed to be a continuation of that old dream, but far later. Liviana's blonde hair was bluntly cut to her shoulders now; the hair was ratted, and it framed her face with frizziness. The blonde looked like she was barely aware. She looked only half-conscious as her green eyes looked out before her. They, she and Posie, were on a beach, and the sun was starting to set. As the orange sun disappeared into the endless sea, the sun's rays created this halo effect around Liviana. It would've been pretty if it wasn't for the green tears that leaked from her eyes, or the gaunt look that haunted Liviana.
Posie swallowed. "Liviana?" she asked, her voice wavering. It was always a pretty bad idea to speak in dreams, if you could speak at all.
Liviana's head turned slightly, and her expression was pulled into deep concentration. She never faced Posie; her feet looked like they were melting into the sand. "They left me." Her voice was far older than her body. It was croaky and raw. "They left me. Sulla. Cassius." She took a shuddered breath. "They used me."
Posie frowned. "... How?" she asked.
"By pawning my powers. My gift. The power I wield."
The daughter of Apollo shifted, leaning to her right to get a better look at Liviana's face. She wanted a better look at the blonde's tears that looked like poison. "What powers?" she asked carefully, despite knowing deep in her chest the truth.
Liviana clenched her hands, and Posie realized how ... mummified they looked. Liviana could only be around nineteen, yet her hands looked like they belonged to someone a hundred years old. "You know the gift I was given."
Posie's stomach churned. So this was her half-sister, another daughter of Apollo. It made sense; Liviana and Apollo shared hair that was the color of sunlit wheat, and they both were tanned and sun-kissed, they shared the freckles Posie had. "Plagues," declared Posie. "Right?"
Liviana nodded.
"Then ..." Posie shifted, dragging her feet through the sand. "No, Apollo had said something—"
"He would hope that it never happened again?" offered Liviana, her tone laced with bitterness.
"Was there someone before you?" asked Posie, frowning at her half-sister.
Liviana stared out to the endless ocean, the waves washing against her bare legs. "Perhaps," she answered. "But ... what happened to me, I figure Dad wouldn't want it to happen again."
Posie's eyes flickered between Liviana's tears, and how they aged her skin as they traced down her face, and her withered hands. "What ... happened? To you? With the ... you know."
Her older sister didn't answer. Instead, she turned at the hip to look Posie in the eye. Her green eyes glowed brighter and brighter, glowing so violently that Posie squinted and raised her hands to cover her face. As she covered her face, Liviana let out this blood-curdling scream and melted into the sand.
✿
Bad enough to start the day ( or end the evening, depending on how you looked at it ) with a nightmare of your half-sister who apparently bore the same curse you did, it was even worse to attend a council meeting that morning after. Technically, because Posie wasn't head counselor for Cabin Seven, she wasn't supposed to go; however, considering her track record, she had a nasty feeling she had to go.
Her track record? For the past two summers, two prophecies have been issued, resulting in two different quests. And, sure, maybe Posie snuck her way onto one of the quests, but both prophecies had lines referring to enemy turned ( from the first prophecy that was given to Percy; One shall look for answers, and meet an enemy turned. From the prophecy given to Clarisse; And enemy turned, into the unknown ). That wasn't her fault, even if the whole sneaking-onto-one-quest was her fault. Posie wasn't being narcissistic either! When she explained this all to Lee that morning as he got ready, he agreed with her. Well, he agreed it was weird that for the last three prophecies given, each one included a line referring to some "enemy" and the enemy "turning".
When both she and Lee appeared for the council meeting, Chiron didn't seem to be in the mood to argue about protocol. He especially didn't after Posie pulled the "My dad's God of Prophecy, I know prophecies" line. So she and Lee sat on one side of the ping-pong table as others filed into the rec room. For a council meeting regarding the prophecy that the local Oracle delivered, this was still a camp of teenagers. Dionysus waved his hand and supplied snacks: Cheez Whiz, crackers, and several bottles of red wine. Then Chiron reminded the god that wine was against his restrictions and most of them were underage. Mr. D sighed; with a snap of his fingers, the wine turned to Diet Coke. Nobody drank that either.
Mr. D and Chiron ( in wheelchair form ) sat at one end of the table. Zoë and Bianca di Angelo ( who had kind of become Zoë's personal assistant ) took the other end. Lee and Posie sat on the right side of the table, Thalia and Grover being the buffer between Posie and Percy. The other head councilors—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers—sat on the left. The Ares campers were supposed to send a representative, too, but all of them had broken limbs ( "accidentally" claims the Hunters ) during Capture the Flag. They were resting up in the infirmary.
Zoë started the meeting off on a positive note: "This is pointless."
"Cheez Whiz!" Grover gasped. He began scooping up crackers and ping-pong balls and spraying them with topping.
Zoë eyed the satyr, her chest puffing out. She turned back to the rest of the table. "There is no time for talk," she continued. "Our goddess needs us. The Hunters must leave immediately."
"And go where?" Chiron asked, his eyebrows raised high into his hairline.
"West!" Bianca announced, sitting up in her seat. Posie was shocked at the difference; Bianca's skin practically glowed, similar to the rest of her Hunters, like she'd been taking showers in liquid moonlight. Her dark hair was braided like Zoë's now, and with the new hairstyle, you could see that she had a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her dark eyes vaguely reminded Posie of the night sky. "You heard the prophecy. Six shall go west to the goddess in chains. We can get six hunters and go."
"Yes," Zoë agreed with a curt nod. "Artemis is being held hostage! We must find her and free her."
"You're missing something, as usual," Thalia pointed out smugly, her expression tight with annoyance. "Campers and Hunters combined prevail. We're supposed to do this together. Not that I like it ..."
"No!" Zoë denied stubbornly, her lip curled with disgust. "The Hunters do not need thy help."
"Your," Thalia grumbled. "Nobody's said thy in, like, three hundred years, Zoë. Get with the fucking times."
"Thalia." Chiron gave the daughter of Zeus a warning look for the foul language.
Zoë hesitated, her eyebrows pinched as she frowned at down at the ping-pong table. She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it; she repeated the action, and Posie could tell she was trying to find a way to pronounce the word. "Yerrr." She rolled the Rs, and Thalia rolled her eyes silently. "We do not need yerrr help."
Thalia huffed and sunk down in her seat. "It's not yerrr, Zoë. Just—forget it."
"I fear the prophecy says you do need our help," Chiron spoke up, bringing the topic back to the important matters. "Campers and Hunters must cooperate, despite what each would want."
"Got that right ..." Connor mumbled under his breath. Both Travis and Silena glanced his way from the corner of their eyes.
"Or do they?" Mr. D mused, swirling his Diet Coke under his nose like it had a fine bouquet. "One shall be lost. One shall perish. One shall greet Death. All sounds rather nasty, doesn't it? What if you fail because you try to cooperate?"
Posie shifted in her seat, dragging her finger across the cool, smooth surface of the ping-pong table. One shall greet Death. That was part of a line that came after the whole Child of Sun bit; a bit that must be referring to her, the daughter of Apollo, God of the Sun. Luckily, no one seemed to laser-focus on that certain bit; everyone in the room looked and frowned at the resident god in unison.
"Mr. D," Chiron sighed, his eyebrows pinched, "with all due respect ... whose side are you on?"
Dionysus raised his eyebrows, glancing up from his can of Diet Coke. "Sorry, my dear centaur. Just trying to be helpful."
"Real helpful ..." drawled Lee under his breath.
Posie nudged him with her elbow. "You're starting to sound like Michael ..." she whispered to him.
Thalia sat up in her seat, jabbing her finger into the table. "We're supposed to work together," she insisted persistently. "I don't like it either, Zoë, but you know prophecies. You want to fight against one?"
Lee cleared his throat. "I have to give it to Thalia—anyone who's ever fought against a prophecy hasn't ..." he tilted his head to one side, hoping people understood his point, "you know."
Posie glanced at him. "They all died."
"Okay. Well." Lee smacked his hands against the table. "I was trying to put it nicely."
Zoë's nostrils flared as she huffed. However, Posie could tell she, Lee, and Thalia had proved a point.
"We must not delay," Chiron warned. "Today is Sunday. This very Friday—December twenty-first—is the winter solstice."
"Oh, joy," Dionysus muttered. "Another dull annual meeting ..."
"Artemis must be present at the solstice," Zoë stood firm in that opinion. "She has been one of the most vocal on the council arguing for action against Kronos's minions. If she is absent, the gods will decide nothing. We will lose another year of war preparations."
"Are you suggesting that the gods have trouble acting together, young lady?" Dionysus asked.
Zoë nodded curtly. "Yes, Lord Dionysus."
Mr. D nodded. "Just checking. You're right, of course. Carry on."
"I must agree with Zoë," admitted Chiron, carefully watching the God of Wine. "Artemis's presence at the winter council is critical. We have only a week to find her. And possibly even more important—to locate the monster she was hunting. Now, we must decide who goes on this quest."
"Three and three," Percy spoke up suddenly. Everybody looked at him, even Posie forgot she was supposed to be ignoring his existence. The son of Poseidon flushed as all eyes turned to him. "We're supposed to have six," he stated. "Three Hunters, three from Camp Half-Blood. That's more than fair."
"It's actually even, but whatever ..." drawled Posie, rolling her eyes. Lee pinched the fat on the back of her arm; Percy frowned at her from behind the heads of Grover and Thalia.
Thalia and Zoë exchanged looks, for once not scowling at each other. "Well ..." The daughter of Zeus shifted in her seat. "I guess Percy does have a point." But she quickly added; "Though, I hate to admit it ..."
Zoë grunted. "I would prefer to take all the Hunters. We shall need the strength of numbers."
"You'll be retracing the goddess's path," Chiron reminded her. "Moving quickly. No doubt Artemis tracked the scent of this rare monster—whatever it is—as she moved west. You will have to do the same. The prophecy was clear: The bane of Olympus shows the trail. What would your mistress say?"
Zoë shifted on her feet, her bottom jaw ticking as Chiron clearly had backed her into a corner. "... 'Too many Hunters spoil the scent,'" she grumbled.
The centaur nodded smugly. "A small group is best," he decided.
Zoë picked up a ping-pong paddle and studied it like she was deciding who she wanted to whack first; all boys in the room, even Grover, shifted in their seats nervously. "This monster—the bane of Olympus ..." she grumbled, spinning the paddle on the table. "I have hunted at Lady Artemis's side for many years, yet I have no idea what this beast might be."
Everybody looked at Dionysus, and Posie understood why—he was the resident god, and gods were supposed to know these kinds of things. He was flipping through a wine magazine, but when everyone got silent he glanced up curiously. "Well, don't look at me. I'm a young god, remember? I don't keep track of all those ancient monsters and dusty Titans. They make for terrible party conversation, you know."
"Chiron," Percy said, frowning as he looked away from Mr. D, "you don't have any ideas about the monster?"
Chiron pursed his lips. "I have several ideas, Percy. And yet, none of them good. And none of them quite make sense. Typhon, for instance, could fit this description. He was truly a bane of Olympus. Or the sea monster, Ketos. But if either of these were stirring, we would know it. They are ocean monsters the size of skyscrapers. Your father Poseidon would already have sounded the alarm. I fear this monster may be more elusive. Perhaps even more powerful ..."
"Geez ..." murmured Connor, raising his eyebrows as he leaned back in his seat. "That's some serious danger you're facing." Posie frowned as she noticed his use of you and not we. "It sounds like at least three of the six are going to die."
Lee frowned at the son of Hermes. "Could you be any more crash about it, Connor?"
Connor rolled his eyes. "Well, how do you want me to talk about it? Make a musical number?"
"No, actually, because I've heard you sing, and you sound like a croaky frog—"
Beckendorf cleared his throat. "So ... prophecy lines," he announced, looking around the people in the room. "One shall be lost in the land without rain. That was one of the lines, right? If I were you, I'd stay out of the desert."
There was a muttering of agreement. Posie shifted in her seat. The next line that referred to Death—and quite literally—was the line that must've been about her.
"And the line about greeting Death," Grover spoke up. "And she shall greet Death as they yearn. That line—Ow!"
The satyr jumped in his seat slightly as he scooted away from Percy. The son of Poseidon frowned at him with a pinched expression. Grover frowned at his friend, but his mouth made a large O. "Oh! I, uh, mean ... That's not a line, you guys—"
"I think it's about me," Posie announced bluntly, tired of hearing Grover trying to worm his way out of it. "It's kinda obvious, I think—Child of Sun, she, enemy turn."
Lee sighed quietly, rubbing at his eyebrows as he sat back in his seat. He wanted to be the one to break the news, knowing between himself and his younger sister, that he was the one better with words.
Chiron pursed his lips, his hands crossed in his lap. "How are you so sure, Posie?"
The daughter of Apollo glanced around the room. "For the past three prophecies, there's been some reference in one of the lines referring to an enemy turned. And for the past two quests, I've been on both."
"Though you snuck onto one of them ..." murmured Travis from the side of his mouth. Silena jabbed him in the side with her manicured finger; he yelped loudly, holding his ribs.
Posie frowned at the son of Hermes. "And the line about the Child of Sun ends with the bit about the enemy turn. Look, no one has to be a genius to figure out they're connected."
Percy sat back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. "And you think that next line's about you—the line about greeting Death?"
She bristled, a nasty comment on the tip of her tongue. "Well, I don't want it to be—"
"'Course you don't." He rolled his eyes. "It's saying you're going to die!"
"Okay. Hey." Lee stood up quickly and swiftly, spreading his hands to Percy with a tight expression. "Let's not talk about my baby sister dying, okay? The line could mean she greets Death. The Death. Thanatos."
"Or it could mean death in a literal sense," Mr. D pointed out, flipping another page in his magazine. Both Percy and Lee glared at the god.
Posie shifted in her seat, keeping her eyes trained on Chiron. "I don't know who the enemy the line is talking about. My first quest, I thought it meant Hades, but ..." she shrugged, "I don't think so."
"Kronos?" offered Beckendorf.
Chiron's brows furrowed as he thought. "Kronos is an enemy," he said. "An enemy who won't turn, I fear. He is only an enemy." He looked at Posie again. "Was there anyone you've met from either quest who could be the enemy?"
"I ... No." She shook her head, despite what it was telling her. "There's no one I can think of. Each line might be referring to someone else, some other god, monster, whatever."
"Very well," replied Chiron. But his ancient eyes felt like they were drilling right through Posie and her lies. He looked to the others in the room. "The other lines?"
"The Titan's curse must one withstand," Silena rattled off the next one. "What could that mean?"
Posie noticed Chiron and Zoë exchange a nervous look; however, whatever they were thinking, they didn't share it. She pursed her lips but didn't point it out. It'd be hypocritical of her to do that knowing she was keeping some things close to her chest.
"One shall perish by a parent's hand," Grover recited in between bites of Cheez Whiz and ping-pong balls. "How is that possible? Whose parent would kill them?"
There was a heavy silence around the table. Posie glanced at Percy and Thalia, knowing they both had to be freezing at the question Grover posed. Years ago, Chiron had had a prophecy about the next child of the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades—who turned sixteen. Supposedly, that kid would make a decision that would save—or destroy—the gods forever. Because of that, the Big Three had taken an oath after World War II not to have any more kids. But, clearly, Zeus and Poseidon hadn't stuck to it, having Thalia and Percy respectively.
It was bad enough to live as a demigod, let alone a demigod that wasn't supposed to exist.
"There will be deaths," Chiron decided grimly. "That much we know."
"Oh, goody!" Dionysus said. Everyone looked at him. He glanced up innocently from the pages of Wine Connoisseur magazine. "Ah, Pinot Noir is making a comeback. Don't mind me." He waved his hand dismissively, flipping to the next page.
"Percy is right," Silena Beauregard said. "Three campers should go."
"Oh, I see," Zoë said sarcastically. "And I suppose you wish to volunteer?"
Silena blushed. "I'm not going anywhere with the Hunters. Don't look at me!"
"A daughter of Aphrodite does not wish to be looked at," Zoë scoffed. "What would thy mother say?"
"Oh, you little—" Silena's eyes flashed with anger. She started to get out of her chair, but both Stoll brothers pulled her back into her seat.
"Stop it, you guys." Beckendorf frowned between Zoë and Silena. As great of a heart attack he caused Posie when he started asking about her Apollo-inherited traits, she was glad people listened to him when he spoke. "Let's start with the Hunters. Which three of you will go?"
Zoë stood up straighter. "I shall go, of course, and I will take Phoebe. She is our best tracker."
"The big girl who likes to hit people on the head?" Travis Stoll asked cautiously.
Zoë nodded.
"The one who put the arrows in my helmet?" Connor added.
"Yes," Zoë snapped. "Why?"
"Oh, nothing," Travis said, shrugging as innocently as possible. "Just we have a T-shirt for her from the camp store." He held up a big silver T-shirt from his lap that said ARTEMIS THE MOON GODDESS, HUNTING TOUR 2002, with a huge list of national parks and stuff underneath. "It's a collector's item. She was admiring it. You want to give it to her?"
Posie knew the Stolls were up to something, and so did everyone who knew them. But Zoë didn't know them as well as everyone else did. The Hunter only sighed and ripped the T-shirt out of Travis's hands. "As I was saying, I will take Phoebe. And," she looked at the new Hunter beside her, "I wish for Bianca to go with."
Bianca looked stunned, her dark eyes widening as they darted upwards. "Me? But ... but I'm so new. I wouldn't be any good."
"You will do fine," Zoë insisted. "There is no better way to prove thyself."
Bianca closed her mouth, looking back down at the table. Posie had some pity for the girl. She remembered her first quest, where she was offered up as a member by Chiron. She didn't feel any feeling close to honor, mostly just fear and resentment. And a lot of unpreparedness. She never felt prepared for that quest, no matter her years of training at that point. She figured that was pretty close to how Bianca felt—fear, feelings of being an offering, and no honor.
"And for campers?" Chiron asked.
"Oo! Me!" Grover stood up so fast he bumped the ping-pong table. He brushed cracker crumbs and ping-pong ball scraps off his lap. "Anything to help Artemis!"
Zoë wrinkled her nose. "I think not, satyr. You are not even a half-blood."
"But he is a camper," Thalia argued for Grover's case. "And he's got a satyr's senses and woodland magic. You can play a tracker's song, can't you, Grover?"
"Absolutely!"
Zoë wavered. But Posie eyed the satyr carefully; from what she knew of tracker's song and woodland magic, Grover wasn't good at that type of stuff. However, Zoë mulled over in concentration. "Very well," she relented. "And the second camper?"
"I'll go." Thalia stood and looked around, daring anyone to question her.
"The third?"
Posie deflated, nearly bowing her head; however, she said, "Me. I'll be the third camper to go."
Zoë watched the daughter of Apollo, but she didn't disagree. Posie must've made her point clear earlier regarding the lines about the Child of Sun and greeting Death. However, Percy sat up quickly, looking between Grover, Thalia, and Posie. "Whoa, wait a second," he croaked. "I want to go too."
Posie pursed her lips, pointedly looking away from the son of Poseidon. Who was she to argue with Zoë regarding who would go on the quest? ( She knew if it had been any time but this, she would have argued. However, Posie still hadn't quite forgiven Percy. ) Thalia said nothing, either. Chiron was studying Percy, his eyes sad.
"Oh," Grover said, suddenly aware of the problem. He looked down at Percy, his goat eyes wide with shock. "Whoa, yeah, I forgot! Percy has to go. I didn't mean ... I'll stay. Percy should go in my place."
"He cannot," Zoë sniffed. "He is a boy. I won't have Hunters traveling with a boy."
Percy frowned. "You traveled here with me," he reminded her.
"That was a short-term emergency, and it was ordered by the goddess. I will not go across country and fight many dangers in the company of a boy."
"What about Grover?" Percy demanded, gesturing to his friend. Grover shifted, nervously chewing on the last ping-pong ball.
Zoë shook her head. "He does not count. He's a satyr. He is not technically a boy."
His bite of ping-pong ball fell out of his mouth. "Hey!" he protested loudly.
"I have to go," Percy insisted, his voice bordering on desperation now. "I need to be on this quest."
"Why?" Zoë asked, bristling as she frowned at him. "Because of thy friend Annabeth?"
Posie looked at Zoë quickly, the wording of the question digging underneath her skin in a way she didn't understand.
"No! Well, yeah. I can't let her go missing forever," he argued. "Annabeth's one of my best friends. I just feel like I'm supposed to go!"
Instead of petty defiance, Posie wouldn't look at Percy now because of an uncomfortable burning feeling in her stomach. The burning wasn't the same feeling as when her hands would start to glow green; no, this feeling made her nauseous, and it made her throat tight as she bit down on her tongue to not say anything. Nobody rose to Percy's defense; not Mr. D, who still looked bored as he read his magazine, not Silena, not Travis or Connor, not Beckendorf, and not Lee. Bianca gave Percy a look of pity.
"No," Zoë said flatly. "I insist upon this. I will take a satyr if I must, but not a male hero."
Chiron sighed. "The quest is for Artemis. The Hunters should be allowed to approve their companions." Posie finally glanced in Percy's direction as he sat down silently. She quickly looked away when he locked eyes with her. Chiron was concluding the meeting; "So be it," he said. "Thalia, Grover, and Posie will accompany Zoë, Bianca, and Phoebe. You shall leave at first light. And may the gods" —he glanced at Dionysus— "present company included, we hope—be with you."
✿
Percy should've realized people would've gone looking after him when he didn't show up for dinner that night. Part of him hoped it would be Posie, but it ended up being Grover and Chiron.
"Percy, I'm so sorry!" Grover apologized, sitting next to him on the bunk. "I didn't know they'd—that you'd—Honest!" He started to sniffle, and Percy figured if he didn't help Grover cheer up Percy's mattress might disappear. Grover tends to eat inanimate objects whenever he gets upset.
"It's okay," he lied, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Really. It's fine."
Grover's lower lip trembled. "I wasn't even thinking ... I was so focused on helping Artemis. But, I promise, I'll look everywhere for Annabeth. If I can find her, I will. I found you and Thalia, I can find her!"
Percy nodded numbly, trying to ignore the big crater in his chest. Things just seemed to be going wrong—he and Thalia were at each other's throats like their fathers, Annabeth was missing, and Posie either was ignoring him or biting his head off for any reason she could.
"Grover," Chiron started, his tone even compared to the satyr's hysterics, "perhaps you'd let me have a word with Percy?"
He sniffled. "Sure, Chiron."
Chiron waited, and Grover glanced up. "Oh ..." He frowned, looking back down. "You mean alone. Sure, Chiron ..." He looked at Percy miserably. "See? Nobody needs a goat." He trotted out the door, blowing his nose on his sleeve.
Chiron sighed and knelt on his horse legs to be as leveled with Percy as possible. "Percy, I don't pretend to understand prophecies—"
"Yeah," the son of Poseidon snapped. "Well, maybe that's because they don't make any sense."
Chiron pursed his lips and looked to the saltwater spring gurgling in the corner of the cabin. "Thalia would not have been my first choice to go on this quest," he admitted, making Percy's ears perk up. "She's too impetuous. She acts without thinking. She is too sure of herself."
Percy couldn't help himself but ask, "Would you have chosen me?"
"Frankly ... no," Chiron admitted bluntly, not trying to soften the blows to Percy's ego. "You and Thalia are much alike."
The son of Poseidon slumped in his bunk. "Thanks a lot ..."
The centaur smiled slightly. "The difference is that you are less sure of yourself than Thalia. That could be good or bad, as I'm sure you and Posie would understand. But one thing I can say—both you and Thalia together would be a dangerous thing."
Percy bristled. For Annabeth, he could deal with it. That was his and Thalia's common goal; saving Annabeth. "We could handle it," he insisted pathetically. "For Annabeth, we could."
"Like the way you two handled it at the creek?" asked Posie's voice. "Or the way you handled it back at Westover?"
Percy looked up; Posie was leaning against the wooden frame of the front door. She had a fleece-lined dark brown jacket over her Camp T-shirt. Her hair was pulled at the back of her neck as she pulled a winter cap over her head. She had a pair of blue jeans on, and her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her jacket.
"Posie." Chiron's tone was stern. "Time and place."
She shrugged. "It's the truth, Chiron."
Percy bristled, hating the fact Posie had a point. She seemingly knew she had hit the nail on the head, shuffling inside and sitting gently on the bottom bunk next to Percy. He watched her carefully, analyzing her expression. This was the first time she was holding out a metaphorical olive branch without scowling at him since ... well, since he said the dumbest thing he could remember.
"Perhaps it is for the best," Chiron mused. "You can go home to your mother for the holidays, Percy. If we need you, we can call."
"Yeah ..." Percy looked away from Posie. "Maybe." He pulled Riptide out of his pocket and set it on the nightstand next to him. It didn't seem that he'd be using it for anything but writing Christmas cards. Not that Percy had many people to write Christmas cards to; his dad, Tyson, Annabeth, Grover, and Posie.
When he saw the pen, Chiron grimaced. "It's no wonder Zoë doesn't want you along, I suppose. Not while you're carrying that particular weapon."
Even that statement seemed to stump Posie and her all-infinite wisdom with her foresight. She frowned, tilting her head to one side as she curled a strand of hair around her finger ( that was one of her nervous habits, Percy had noticed ). "Chiron, what do you mean?"
However, there was something Percy remembered. Years ago, right before Percy left on his first quest, Chiron told him something when giving him Riptide: It has a long and tragic history, which we need not go into. Percy wanted to ask what Chiron meant, but the centaur pulled a golden drachma from his saddlebag and tossed it to him. "Call your mother, Percy. Let her know you're coming home in the morning. And, ah, for what it's worth ... I almost volunteered for this quest myself. I would have gone, if not for the last line."
"One shall perish by a parent's hand. Yeah." Percy didn't need to ask; Chiron's dad was Kronos, the evil Titan Lord himself. The line would make perfect sense if Chiron went on the quest. Kronos didn't care for anyone, including his own children. No, especially his children; he swallowed his godly children, after all.
"Chiron," Posie started, looking up from her lap. "You know what this Titan's curse means, don't you?"
The centaur's face darkened. He made a claw over his heart and pushed it outwards—an ancient gesture for warding off evil. "Let us hope the prophecy does not mean what I think, Posie. Now, goodnight, Percy. And your time will come, I'm convinced of that. There's no need to rush." He said your time the way people did when they meant your death. Percy didn't know if Chiron meant it that way, but the look in his eyes made him scared to ask.
He stood up, looking at Posie. "You know the rule, Posie."
For a moment, she frowned. Then, she flushed brightly. "Don't say it like that! I just ... need to give him something before ..." she glanced at Percy, "before I leave for the quest."
Chiron watched her for a moment, but he trotted to the door to Cabin Three. He left it open as he left, letting drafts of cold wind inside. Posie sighed, crossing her legs together as she looked at Percy.
"Give me something?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Yeah. Look, do you want me to get you food? You missed dinner."
"I thought you were mad at me."
"I am." She nodded. "But you still are my friend at the end of the day. And I know that—" She shifted, pulling a navy blue cap out of her back pocket, and setting it in her lap. "Well, I know you."
Percy eyed the cap. It was Annabeth's. He realized Posie must've kept it with her in Cabin Seven since they got back. He knew the two were friends, but he had a sudden pang of guilt. Percy never stopped to think about how Posie or Grover were dealing with Annabeth gone, he was only focusing on how he was feeling.
He narrowed his eyes on her. "Is this ... something to do with your gift of foresight?"
She frowned, thumbing the visior part of the cap. "... More of a gut feeling, Percy. And with the gift of foresight, I'm learning that my gut feelings tend to be right."
"Have you had any dreams of Annabeth, then?" he asked, sitting up in his bunk. "Of her holding that cave ceiling? Of Luke?" He was desperate to know he wasn't the only one, and he knew if anyone was having dreams, it was Posie.
"Not of Annabeth ... specifically," she answered slowly. She licked her lips, looking at the saltwater spring.
Percy knew she hated talking about her dreams, but if she had seen something, they needed to know. "Posie, have you?" he pried.
"... No." Her shoulders deflated, and she hung her head. "Not of Annabeth. Not of Artemis. Just of ..." She trailed off. "Just nightmares of stuff that's not important to finding them."
Percy wasn't so sure of that. And he wanted to push, but Posie was finally talking to him and she wasn't snapping at him for just breathing. He didn't want to push his luck. Besides, he knew she hated talking about anything she inherited from Apollo—her love of music, her gift of foresight, her curse ( because that's what she thought it was ) of plagues and sickness.
She looked up, tossing Annabeth's Yankees cap into his lap. "You don't believe me."
"Well ..." Percy grabbed the hat, turning it over in his hands. "No."
She nodded in an I figure type of way. She stood up, brushing the front of her jacket down. "Fair enough, I guess. Look, Percy, if I do have any dreams of them, I'll let you know."
"Let me know?" he asked as she started to walk away. He stood up, ready to walk after her. "You should tell the others going on the quest with you. Not me!"
She stood in the open doorway to Cabin Three. She turned around and raised her eyebrows at him. Percy swore she looked to be smiling, and the expression struck him. That expression—an expression that seemed to be bordering on I know something you don't—reminded Percy so much of Apollo. Maybe to do with the whole God of Foresight business, knowing things before others seemed to be Apollo's thing.
"After two quests together, I think I know you pretty well, Percy," she decided, tilting her head at him in the manner she did so often. The dangling sun earrings she wore tilted with her. "And let's just say ... another gut feeling, 'kay? A hunch, even."
✿
Posie must've jinxed herself that night after talking to Percy civilly for the first time since ... well, since Artemis asked her to join the Hunt. She knew she shouldn't have said anything to him, but every time she glanced at Annabeth's cap on her nightstand, there was that pull in her gut. That gut feeling she was telling him about. She didn't know why; she didn't know if it was Hades ( unlikely considering he hates Percy ), or if it was Apollo ( much more likely considering he didn't hate Percy ), or if it was Onesimus ( she didn't believe this at all; Posie was only still holding out hope that Onesimus would one day show his voice—speak his voice?—no matter how angry she would be with him at the time ).
Or maybe what she was thinking was a "gut feeling" was her guilt. She did feel bad for talking to Percy the way she did, even if she was still angry with him.
Lee insisted that she went to bed earlier than normal, having helped her pack for the quest. She didn't want to, knowing that some nightmare would await her. Maybe another continuation of her dreams with Liviana. If that was the case, Posie wanted to ask again: What happened to Liviana to make her start crying tears of sickness? Hopefully, Liviana wouldn't scream and then melt into the earth this time. Maybe Posie would dream of Beau Easton. She hoped—prayed, even—that she didn't. She didn't want to, knowing how every dream of him had gone: horribly. That's how they've gone. She has dreamt of him writhing on the floor as he moaned about plagues. She has dreamt of him at the front door of her childhood home, where he was nothing but a mummified version of himself. She has dreamt dreamed of him as Hades used him as a vessel to speak with Posie.
No, this time she dreamt of both Annabeth and Artemis. Posie was in a barren cave, the ceiling heavy and low above her. Before Posie, she saw who only could be Annabeth was kneeling under the weight of a dark mass that was like a pile of boulders. The daughter of Athena was too tired to even cry out. Her legs trembled beneath her. Any second, Posie knew that Annabeth would run out of strength and the cavern ceiling would collapse on top of her.
"How is our mortal guest?" a male voice boomed. This voice was deeper and lower, like a bass guitar. Its force made the ground vibrate.
Luke emerged from the shadows. He ran to Annabeth and knelt beside her. He then looked back at the unseen man. "She's fading. We must hurry."
Posie's stomach churned. Maybe Luke was capable of human emotions, but he didn't get the luxury of caring for Annabeth. Not after all the pain he put—and is putting—her through.
The deep voice chuckled. It belonged to someone in the shadows, at the edge of Posie's nightmare. Then a meaty hand pushed someone forward into the light—it was Artemis, and her hands and feet bound in Celestial bronze chains. Her silvery dress was torn and tattered. Her face and arms were cut in several places; she was bleeding ichor, the golden blood of the gods.
"You heard the boy," said the man in the shadows. "Decide!"
Artemis's eyes flashed with anger. The goddess looked at Annabeth, and her expression changed from concern to outrage. "How dare you torture a maiden like this!"
"She will die soon," Luke told the goddess. "You can save her."
Annabeth made a weak sound of protest. Posie's heart felt like it was being twisted into a knot. Unlike her last dream, Posie couldn't interfere this time. She couldn't say a word let alone stopping Luke and the man in the shadow.
"Free my hands," Artemis told Luke, her expression tight with anger and pity.
Luke brought out his sword, Backbiter. With one expert strike, he broke the goddess's handcuffs.
Artemis ran to Annabeth and took the burden from her shoulders. Annabeth collapsed on the ground and lay there shivering. Artemis staggered, trying to support the weight of the black rocks.
The man in the shadows chuckled. "You are as predictable as you were easy to beat, Artemis."
"You surprised me," the goddess croaked, straining under her burden. "It will not happen again."
"Indeed it will not," the man agreed with a smug, mocking tone. "Now you are out of the way for good! I knew you could not resist helping a young maiden. That is, after all, your specialty, my dear."
Artemis groaned. "You know nothing of mercy, you swine."
"On that," the man chuckled lightly, "we can agree. Luke, you may kill the girl now."
"No!" Artemis shouted.
Luke hesitated, glancing in the direction the shadowy voice was coming from. "She—she may yet be useful, sir. Further bait."
"Bah! You truly believe that?"
"Yes, General. They will come for her. I'm sure."
The shadowy man—the General—considered. "Then ... the dracaenae can guard her here. Assuming she does not die from her injuries, you may keep her alive until winter solstice. After that, if our sacrifice goes as planned, her life will be meaningless. The lives of all mortals will be meaningless."
Luke gathered up Annabeth's listless body, but before he could carry her away, he said, "What about Apollo's daughter? The one who carries the powers of sickness?"
"If I am not mistaken, Luke, you have tried to capture her times before. And you failed, times before."
Luke's expression flickered between anger and embarrassment. "I believe she will come with the others. I've told you the prophecy the Oracle gave."
"She will not be able to escape me," said the General, making Posie's stomach churn. What was he talking about? "Kronos believes her to be useful."
Luke glanced from the General, Annabeth, and then to Artemis. He took a long look at unconscious Annabeth. "You won't fail, General." He then carried the daughter of Athena away.
"You will never find the monster you seek," Artemis promised, straining under the weight. "Your plan will fail."
"How little you know, my young goddess," the man in the shadows said. "Even now, your darling attendants begin their quest to find you. They shall play directly into my hands. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a long journey to make. We must greet your Hunters and make sure their quest is ... challenging."
The man's laughter echoed in the darkness, shaking the ground until it seemed the whole cavern ceiling would collapse.
✿ APR. 13TH, 2024 / it's posie's birthday!! she'd be thirty based on the book timeline (i think)!
i know i said this at the beginning of the year (and i still mean it? i guess?) but i said that chapters might slow down because i was going to get a job and start college - i didn't start college, and i didn't get a job *sobs* so why chapters slowed down? because i'm been applying, and i've also been trying to not burn myself out by only writing throughout the day
that being said, i'm going to apply some more and (hopefully!!) get a job by the end of this month. and i'm going to have to start applying for classes (that's not the right terminology but just go with me here) for college because i will be attending start late-august (because that's when the college i will be going to starts)
fun stuff, huh?
so what i'm saying is that updates may slow down even more because i'll probably be working five/six days a week (maybe seven; but hopefully not seven days) to save up for college over the summer, and even after summer ends, i'll be starting college and me and school do not mix well.
anyways, potentially (read carefully because i don't want to promise tew much here) update tomorrow
more liviana lore drops!! what i have planned for her and posie (comes around heroes of olympus) is really fun hehehe - fun for me, that is! but what i'm quickly learning about this type of fic is that it's not fun writing a character who has the gift of foresight/really fucked up dreams. i have to go back and check chapters all the time to make sure i'm getting my little references all correct *sobs* there's so many moving pieces
i'm also currently fighting the urge to update the formatting of this book (like, the way i stylize the parentheses and such) because it's ... ugly! but i don't want to lose all the comments *sobs*
anyways,, thoughts? opinions??
(not edited, nor proofread)