𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐂! percy jackson

xiv. A Game Of Chance

━━ chapter fourteen
a game of chance

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

    ━━If Percy was to be honest, a library wouldn't have been his first choice for someplace to visit. He has dyslexia and ADHD, he was a disaster kid at concentrating and reading. A whole building full of books? That sounded about as much fun as Chinese water torture or getting his teeth extracted. Though, as they jogged through the lobby, Percy figured Annabeth would like this place. It was spacious and brightly lit, with big vaulted windows. Books and architecture, that was definitely her...

    He froze in his tracks.

    "Percy?" Fiona glanced back, frowning. "What's wrong?"

    Percy tried desperately to concentrate. Where had those thoughts come from? Architecture, books ... Annabeth had taken him somewhere to show him something ... architecture. Something she had designed. Back home in━in━

    The memory faded. Percy slammed his fist into the side of a bookshelf. He was so angry, so frustrated with his missing memories, that he wanted to punch another bookshelf, but a hand was on his arm, and he faltered. It sent shivers, ones that calmed him down enough to see who it was.

    Fiona arched a brow in query, concerned, but also as if saying, don't lose your temper. Not here, not right now. "Percy?"

    She was right, of course. She's right about a lot of things, Percy has noticed. He had a quest to focus on, a harpy to save, and some information to get out of an old, stupid man. "I'm━I'm all right," he lied, sobering himself up. "Just got dizzy for a sec. Let's find a way to the roof."

    It took them a fair while, but they finally found a stairwell with roof access. At the top of the door was a handle alarm, but someone had propped it open with a copy of War and Peace. Fiona stepped through first, and Percy was quick to follow her.

    Outside, Ella the harpy huddled in a nest of books under a makeshift cardboard shelter. Percy and his friends advanced slowly, trying not to scare her. Ella didn't pay them any attention, isntead picking at her feathers and muttering under her breath, like she was practising lines for a play.

    Percy got within five feet and knelt down. "Hi. Sorry we scared you. Look, I don't have much food, but ..." he took some of the macrobiotic jerky out of his pocket. Ella lunged and snatched it immediately. She huddled back in her nest, sniffing the jerky, but sighed and tossed it away.

    "N━not from his table," she said. "Ella cannot eat. Sad. Jerky would be good for harpies."

    "Not from ... Oh, right," Percy realised. "That's part of the curse. You can only eat his food."

    "There has to be a way," Hazel frowned.

    "'Photosynthesis'," Ella muttered. "'Noun. Biology. The synthesis of complex organic materials'. 'It was the best of times, the worst of times; it was the age of wisdown, it was the age of foolishness ...'"

    "What is she saying?" Frank whispered.

    Percy stared at the mound of books around her. They all looked old and mildewed. Some had prices written in marker on the covers, like the library had gotten rid of them in a clearance sale. "She's quoting books..."

    "Farmer's Almanac 1965," said Ella. "'Start breeding animals, January twenty-sixth'."

    "Ella," he said, "have you read all of these?"