What The High Tides May Bring

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Somehow, the destruction looks even worse in the gray morning light.

Annabeth walks around the island, picking up pieces of debris and lost weapons. All but two of the huts had been destroyed, and those have now been converted to infirmaries. Will and Calypso breeze in and out. They stayed up all night trying to stabilize the wounded, and now they're taking shifts sleeping and working.

Annabeth dumps a load of wood next to the hearth as Will staggers out, his shift over. He sits heavily down on the sand next to where she stands.

"Do you think he left on purpose?" he asks, wiping at his eyes.

"Who?"

"Nico. He can sense death, right? Did he know there was an attack coming so he left?"

Annabeth can't even begin to imagine what goes on the son of Hades' head, but she does know that Will is exhausted and emotional and not thinking straight right now.

"I think that Nico is on his own path, and sometimes it takes him to different places. There's no use in trying to understand some things." Annabeth finds a blanket and hands it to Will. "You should rest while you can."

Everyone that isn't seriously injured works all day. In the evening, they have another funeral. Although it's not fair to those who died, the affair is much more muted than Percy and Beckendorf's service. There are no lengthy speeches, no beautiful eulogies. If someone wants to say something to one of the people who died, they simply walk up to the pyre and say it to themselves.

Annabeth lights Silena's pyre, the shroud colored the same pale pink as the dress she always wore. As it burns, it smells like roses. After she lights it, she melts back to the edge of the crowd. Leo and Calypso are standing just a few feet away from her, talking quietly.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Calypso says. "Your dragon saved our lives. Sciron wouldn't have stopped until we were all dead."

"Yeah, well. Silena told me that Festus was originally built to protect people like us from monsters. I guess I should have seen it coming."

He pulls out his wires and gears and fiddles around with them, not looking anyone in the eye.

"Are you going to stay?" Calypso asks.

"Someone has to fix up your home. May as well be me."

Annabeth drifts back to the remains of the village after that, not having the energy to stay any longer. As she lays on the warm sand and stares up at the stars, all she can think about is her last night with Percy. She traces the constellation of Zöe the Huntress with her eyes and finally understands what Percy meant when he said it wasn't easy to end up in the sky anymore. It took Zöe three thousand years of being a hero.

If it were as easy to end up in the skies as it was in Ancient Greek times, Annabeth would be seeing Percy, Beckendorf, Silena, and a dragon-shaped constellation.

Annabeth sits on the storm-damaged beach, watching the tide advance and retreat. She used to love the light breeze that swept off the surface of the water and the smell of salt, but now the sound of the waves brings her only sorrow. She's lost too many people to it.

Leo splashes around in the waves for a couple hours, searching for more pieces of Festus. He finds a few neck plates and one of the ruby eyes, but nothing else. He finally gives up and heads to his make-shift workshop, a ramshackle building he'd constructed from driftwood and pieces of the destroyed huts. The sound of his forge echoes across the tiny island.

The wounded heal remarkably fast under the care of Calypso - "it's part of the island's magic," she assures Will - which frees her up to focus on her hosting duties. She brings around trays of warm bread and roast along with mugs of cider. Leo sets down his hammer long enough to eat and Annabeth, though not hungry, accepts a roll and cider.