Instead he fishes out a gold drachma and tosses it into the mist.
"O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering." As he mutters the incantation, the desperate rasp in his voice surprises him. "Show me Sally Jackson."
The mist shimmers and shivers and reveals a woman, curled up in her chair with her feet propped on the arm, lost in a thick book. At the sight of the lines around her mouth and the ocean of her eyes Percy is struck with a wave of homesickness so strong he has to swallow it down.
"Hi, Mom."
She startles, and then at the sight of him she seems to freeze, eyes huge as if she can't quite believe he's real.
"Mom?"
Sally gets up from her chair, letting the book fall to the floor, and then breaks into a laugh of disbelief and relief and wonder, a laugh of pure music. "Percy!"
He watches as she starts to laugh and cry at the same time. He tries to smile, but instead of his usual crooked mischief it comes out the kind with pain behind the eyes, and then he's crying too. But even then he feels the hole inside of him starting to fill up.
They talk, and talk, and talk, about nothing and everything. He asks about Paul. She wants to hear every tiny detail of his quest. But mostly they just drink each other in, grasping for whatever semblance of normalcy they can through a rainbow goddess' magic. Every once in a while Sally glances at him with that wide-eyed wonder, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea that finally her boy is safe--and finally he can come home.
For as the mist starts to fade Percy decides he can't stay away from his mother any longer. "This weekend, Mom," he promises, watching the smile lines deepen in her cheeks. "See you soon."
---
After Gaea, Annabeth has a brief tussle with herself whether or not to call her father. Finally one side wins. He deserves to know. Something, at least. At least that she's fine.
So she heads up to the Big House and takes the hose around one corner of the porch where she can get some privacy, half-heartedly mumbling the request and hoping that her dad is alone. She catches him in his study, also mumbling over some books, his blond hair sticking in all directions and a pencil over both ears.
"Annabeth?" When the mist-message appears, Dr. Chase leaps up, stumbling over his chair and frowning in perplexity. "Is that really you?"
Annabeth feels frustration rise in his chest at his expression--not relief, not joy, just confusion--but she forces it down. "Yes, Dad, it's me. Just...just checking in."
"But--what's the occasion? Did something happen at camp? Do you need my help?"
Of course he doesn't know, Annabeth reminds herself. Most mortals don't. She tells him, business-like, trying to detach herself from the emotions that come with the memories. At first Dr. Chase twitches, glancing at his books, but as she goes on he forgets them and moves closer till he's staring right into her eyes through the mist. She tells him briefly about Athena's split personality and the Roman camp and the battle with the giants. She tells him about the Argo II and its creator--she knows he'll like that. She even smiles bravely as he offers a few weak words of comfort.
"So I just thought you'd like to know that I'm safe and everything's okay," she concludes lamely, wondering if she should end the call. It would be easy.
"I'm glad, honey, I really am." Dr. Chase breaks his gaze as if looking for something he lost years ago. "College in New Rome, eh?"
"Yes." What is he looking for?
"You'll come and visit?" He fixes his gaze back on her, and there's a wistfulness in his tone.
Annabeth thinks of her three homes--a summer camp with a shimmering lake and its beads on her neck, a Roman city with sidewalk cafes and marble arches, and a small unfamiliar house with a distant stepmother, Legos on the floor, and two noisy boys. To her surprise, she finds herself saying yes.
Thus he grabs a basin from the camp kitchen, fills it with water, and takes it back to his cabin where he huddles up on the lone bunk. Then he sticks in a contraption Leo fixed up to create a steady mist and can't decide whether to smile or cry.
He decides to focus on the task at hand instead.
One golden drachma. One breath. His sister appears, surrounded by her Hunters, in deep discussion. Her face is tense and serious, and Jason feels the same expression on his own.
Then she sees him, and breaks into an grin of pure delight.
The Hunters see him too, and scoot back, startled. Still fixed on him, Thalia shoos them absently out on the tent and draws closer to the image. "Jason! Holy Zeus, is it good to see you."
Her joy--in those electrifying eyes so much like his own--is infectious. Her shoulders twitch like she would hug him if the Iris-message allowed it. Jason can't help but smile back. "It's good to see you too."
"So I assume you won?"
"We did," he says, with quiet satisfaction.
"Good." She nods as though she didn't expect anything else. "Tell me everything."
He recounts the final battles, enjoying his sister's reactions. Piper's singing to charm the snake people (I knew that girl had something!),Gaea waking (Percy had a nosebleed?), fighting with their father, side by side (you did what?). Then he gets to Leo and his sacrifice, and he starts to choke up, which embarrasses him. Thalia never knew Leo except for an annoying boy who tried to flirt with Artemis' lieutenant. This is not her grief; she has her own.
Yet he looks up from his fisted hands to see her smiling sadly at him. She reaches out a hand through the shifting mist as if to wipe the tears off his cheek.
"He died a hero," he tells her.
"I know," she tells him back.
They run out of conversation and sit in a painful silence pregnant with questions, about people broken and lives lost. And they both wonder the same thing: if she had known he was alive, would she have stayed?
Briefly Jason also wonders if Hunters can quit, but he pushes the thought away. Thalia made her choice, and that's her life now. He can't ask her to give it up. Not for him.
Instead he asks, "Do you stop by camp often?" If he looks out the window he can see the Artemis cabin, silver and slender and empty, and he wishes it full.
Thalia laughs shortly as if glad for the diversion. "No," she admits. "Because we always beat your sorry butts at capture-the-flag."
"We have three Big Three kids now." He mock-glares at her. "Maybe the times are changing."
"We're immortal huntresses blessed by an Olympian god."
"Good point." Jason feels the mood settle into something warmer, easier. "But you'll come by? I mean, it might be difficult to coordinate, because you'll be busy and I'll be jumping between camps, but--"
"Hush, you goober." Thalia's eyes, blue like a summer sky, glint with teasing. "I'll be there. Pinky promise."
That sets off a little flutter in Jason's mind, another memory--forehead kisses and french fries and linked pinky fingers.
"Pinky promise," he repeats, pantomiming crooking pinkies through the mist, and feeling like he's found his sister again.
So she heads up to the Big House and takes the hose around one corner of the porch where she can get some privacy, half-heartedly mumbling the request and hoping that her dad is alone. She catches him in his study, also mumbling over some books, his blond hair sticking in all directions and a pencil over both ears.
"Annabeth?" When the mist-message appears, Dr. Chase leaps up, stumbling over his chair and frowning in perplexity. "Is that really you?"
Annabeth feels frustration rise in his chest at his expression--not relief, not joy, just confusion--but she forces it down. "Yes, Dad, it's me. Just...just checking in."
"But--what's the occasion? Did something happen at camp? Do you need my help?"
Of course he doesn't know, Annabeth reminds herself. Most mortals don't. She tells him, business-like, trying to detach herself from the emotions that come with the memories. At first Dr. Chase twitches, glancing at his books, but as she goes on he forgets them and moves closer till he's staring right into her eyes through the mist. She tells him briefly about Athena's split personality and the Roman camp and the battle with the giants. She tells him about the Argo II and its creator--she knows he'll like that. She even smiles bravely as he offers a few weak words of comfort.
"So I just thought you'd like to know that I'm safe and everything's okay," she concludes lamely, wondering if she should end the call. It would be easy.
"I'm glad, honey, I really am." Dr. Chase breaks his gaze as if looking for something he lost years ago. "College in New Rome, eh?"
"Yes." What is he looking for?
"You'll come and visit?" He fixes his gaze back on her, and there's a wistfulness in his tone.
Annabeth thinks of her three homes--a summer camp with a shimmering lake and its beads on her neck, a Roman city with sidewalk cafes and marble arches, and a small unfamiliar house with a distant stepmother, Legos on the floor, and two noisy boys. To her surprise, she finds herself saying yes.
---
After Gaea, Jason finally has time to think. And when he does think, he thinks about his sister.
He wishes he remembered her better. Oh, he remembers some things. Her face as clear as day. Her voice only slightly less so. One rainy afternoon playing hide-and-seek. But he knows nothing of her person aside from what a two-year-old would notice, and Jason realises with a start that that hurts.
And now he'll soon be older than she is, and he'll carry on with his life at camp while she runs with the Hunters, and they'll go their separate paths with only chance meetings connecting two diverging lines. Seventy years from now he could be dead, and she'll still be as strong and fresh as she was at sixteen.
Jason refuses to let it end this way. If he's already going to be busy running between camps and appeasing jealous gods, surely he can spare time to contact his only sister.
He wishes he remembered her better. Oh, he remembers some things. Her face as clear as day. Her voice only slightly less so. One rainy afternoon playing hide-and-seek. But he knows nothing of her person aside from what a two-year-old would notice, and Jason realises with a start that that hurts.
And now he'll soon be older than she is, and he'll carry on with his life at camp while she runs with the Hunters, and they'll go their separate paths with only chance meetings connecting two diverging lines. Seventy years from now he could be dead, and she'll still be as strong and fresh as she was at sixteen.
Jason refuses to let it end this way. If he's already going to be busy running between camps and appeasing jealous gods, surely he can spare time to contact his only sister.
Thus he grabs a basin from the camp kitchen, fills it with water, and takes it back to his cabin where he huddles up on the lone bunk. Then he sticks in a contraption Leo fixed up to create a steady mist and can't decide whether to smile or cry.
He decides to focus on the task at hand instead.
One golden drachma. One breath. His sister appears, surrounded by her Hunters, in deep discussion. Her face is tense and serious, and Jason feels the same expression on his own.
Then she sees him, and breaks into an grin of pure delight.
The Hunters see him too, and scoot back, startled. Still fixed on him, Thalia shoos them absently out on the tent and draws closer to the image. "Jason! Holy Zeus, is it good to see you."
Her joy--in those electrifying eyes so much like his own--is infectious. Her shoulders twitch like she would hug him if the Iris-message allowed it. Jason can't help but smile back. "It's good to see you too."
"So I assume you won?"
"We did," he says, with quiet satisfaction.
"Good." She nods as though she didn't expect anything else. "Tell me everything."
He recounts the final battles, enjoying his sister's reactions. Piper's singing to charm the snake people (I knew that girl had something!),Gaea waking (Percy had a nosebleed?), fighting with their father, side by side (you did what?). Then he gets to Leo and his sacrifice, and he starts to choke up, which embarrasses him. Thalia never knew Leo except for an annoying boy who tried to flirt with Artemis' lieutenant. This is not her grief; she has her own.
Yet he looks up from his fisted hands to see her smiling sadly at him. She reaches out a hand through the shifting mist as if to wipe the tears off his cheek.
"He died a hero," he tells her.
"I know," she tells him back.
They run out of conversation and sit in a painful silence pregnant with questions, about people broken and lives lost. And they both wonder the same thing: if she had known he was alive, would she have stayed?
Briefly Jason also wonders if Hunters can quit, but he pushes the thought away. Thalia made her choice, and that's her life now. He can't ask her to give it up. Not for him.
Instead he asks, "Do you stop by camp often?" If he looks out the window he can see the Artemis cabin, silver and slender and empty, and he wishes it full.
Thalia laughs shortly as if glad for the diversion. "No," she admits. "Because we always beat your sorry butts at capture-the-flag."
"We have three Big Three kids now." He mock-glares at her. "Maybe the times are changing."
"We're immortal huntresses blessed by an Olympian god."
"Good point." Jason feels the mood settle into something warmer, easier. "But you'll come by? I mean, it might be difficult to coordinate, because you'll be busy and I'll be jumping between camps, but--"
"Hush, you goober." Thalia's eyes, blue like a summer sky, glint with teasing. "I'll be there. Pinky promise."
That sets off a little flutter in Jason's mind, another memory--forehead kisses and french fries and linked pinky fingers.
"Pinky promise," he repeats, pantomiming crooking pinkies through the mist, and feeling like he's found his sister again.
---
After Gaea, Reyna rubs fingers over her SPQR tattoo while waiting for a Greek goddess to answer her request. The mist clears and a mirror image of herself appears, only older, stronger, prouder. Only for her sister does Hylla's smile lose its tinge of haughtiness.
"Hello, Hylla." Reyna's still a little surprised the mist message even worked. It's new to her, like so many other things. "The quest succeeded and Gaea has been defeated. I thought you'd like to know. And...thank you for your help."
"I'm glad." On the other side of the mist, the Amazon's eyes glow brightly. "Did Orion bother you?"
"Yes, but he's dead," Reyna says, just to see the ferocious joy in Hylla's face as she turns her head to the side and delivers a vindictive "good." Then she tells her about how she fought him with two goddesses by her side, and holds up her new cloak for Hylla to see. It's oddly satisfying to surprise her sister. Hylla is so rarely surprised. "How are your Amazons?"
Hylla wavers so imperceptibly that only a close-knit soul would notice, and then smiles again, cat-like. "Fierce as always."
There hovers in the space between them a sort of bittersweet triumph as they both think of the bloodshed that always accompanies the battle. I'm sorry--it wasn't your fault. The thought flashes in Reyna's mind, but she doesn't voice it. They've never had time for pretty sentiment. Instead she meets her sister's charcoal eyes. "You fought well, Hylla Twice-Kill."
Warmth blossoms in Reyna's chest when she answers, "So did you, little sister."
"Hello, Hylla." Reyna's still a little surprised the mist message even worked. It's new to her, like so many other things. "The quest succeeded and Gaea has been defeated. I thought you'd like to know. And...thank you for your help."
"I'm glad." On the other side of the mist, the Amazon's eyes glow brightly. "Did Orion bother you?"
"Yes, but he's dead," Reyna says, just to see the ferocious joy in Hylla's face as she turns her head to the side and delivers a vindictive "good." Then she tells her about how she fought him with two goddesses by her side, and holds up her new cloak for Hylla to see. It's oddly satisfying to surprise her sister. Hylla is so rarely surprised. "How are your Amazons?"
Hylla wavers so imperceptibly that only a close-knit soul would notice, and then smiles again, cat-like. "Fierce as always."
There hovers in the space between them a sort of bittersweet triumph as they both think of the bloodshed that always accompanies the battle. I'm sorry--it wasn't your fault. The thought flashes in Reyna's mind, but she doesn't voice it. They've never had time for pretty sentiment. Instead she meets her sister's charcoal eyes. "You fought well, Hylla Twice-Kill."
Warmth blossoms in Reyna's chest when she answers, "So did you, little sister."
---
After Gaea, Piper sits in front of the computer in the Big House, unsure if she's reluctant or impatient for Skype to start up. Everyone is off reporting to their parents and siblings, and she wants to see her father too. But what can she possibly say to him?
The screen finally loads, the image clears, and Tristan McLean stares into the camera, flashing movie-star teeth at his daughter. "Piper! I've missed you, sweet one. How've you been?"
How has she been? Fighting mythical monsters, traipsing all over Europe in a flying ship? Terrified and broken and yet happier than she's even been, but she can't tell him any of that. "Great," she says unconvincingly, "great."
"You're adjusting well to school?"
"It's more of a camp, really--" she begins, then stops. "Um, yes, I'm really liking it."
His beautiful sad eyes make her die a little inside, all the things she wants to say trying to burst out of her chest. How she defeated a goddess all by herself. How she fought with her mother's presence by her side. How she thought of him as she sang his favourite song, becoming the most powerful voice of all. "I'm doing well," she repeats, weakly. "How are you?"
"Busy." Tristan laughs. Agents and movie deals and awards ceremonies and swimming pools--his life seems so far removed from Piper's now, except for a show he's signed on for called "The Champion of Olympus." That makes her smile: a small, ironic smile.
He studies her face, and Piper knows he can tell something has changed. There's pride in his eyes as he pulls away, but loss, too. Piper feels a surge of hot frustration because there's so much he'll never understand.
But when he says, "I'm proud of you, Piper," she blinks back tears.
"You're adjusting well to school?"
"It's more of a camp, really--" she begins, then stops. "Um, yes, I'm really liking it."
His beautiful sad eyes make her die a little inside, all the things she wants to say trying to burst out of her chest. How she defeated a goddess all by herself. How she fought with her mother's presence by her side. How she thought of him as she sang his favourite song, becoming the most powerful voice of all. "I'm doing well," she repeats, weakly. "How are you?"
"Busy." Tristan laughs. Agents and movie deals and awards ceremonies and swimming pools--his life seems so far removed from Piper's now, except for a show he's signed on for called "The Champion of Olympus." That makes her smile: a small, ironic smile.
He studies her face, and Piper knows he can tell something has changed. There's pride in his eyes as he pulls away, but loss, too. Piper feels a surge of hot frustration because there's so much he'll never understand.
But when he says, "I'm proud of you, Piper," she blinks back tears.
---
After Gaea, Hazel and Frank sit by the canoe lake of Camp Half-Blood. It's a new and strange sight to them, the camp: cabins violently different from each other, nature spirits popping in and out of the woods, campers in bright orange t-shirts laughing chaotically. The others are all holed up somewhere, calling friends and family, but they don't have anyone to call. Briefly they each think of a mother somewhere in the Underworld, and then they decide to leave the past in the past and enjoy each other's company, if only for a moment in the storm.
Eventually the others trickle out and join them, perching on the wharf and swinging their legs above the water. They talk a little, in drips and drops, but it feels off, with too many forced comments and awkward pauses. So eventually they lapse into silence.
Out of the corner of his eye Frank spots a dark figure hovering at the edge of the woods. He swallows, and then speaks.
"Nico...care to join us?"
For an instant an unreadable emotion flickers across the younger boy's face. Then, also in silence, he walks over and sets himself down next to Frank, folding his legs under him. Frank shifts away, then, on second thought, shifts back.
In the perfect silence eight demigods watch the sunset and feel the raw edges inside of them start to heal.
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