𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

dead allure

ERITH JAY
ERITH HATED WAITING.

She wrapped and unwrapped and wrapped again the yellow bandana on her wrist. She paced the deck until her feet were sore, which was nearly impossible in her new boots.

Next to her on the deck stood four of her friends. Hazel stood against the railing, her face screwed up in concentration, her fingers twitching occasionally. Frank stood next to her, shoulders taut with anticipation. Leo's hands jittered against the helm. He glanced to the sky, then the ground far below them, then back to his controls. Percy stood behind the spot where Erith paced, his body tightly wound up, ready to kill.

They all hated waiting right now, because Jason, Piper, and Annabeth were on a mission that could get them killed. All of them, but especially those three.

And Erith wasn't fond of this for a number of reasons. Reason one: Annabeth Chase was, aside from Nico di Angelo and she supposed Jasper Eliano, her longest, best friend in the world.

Reason two: Jason Grace was, by all means, part of her soul. If he died, she was sure her skin would tear itself apart.

Reason three: Piper was her closest confidant and the prettiest, kindest, loveliest girl Erith had ever seen. She somehow understood what was going on between her and Leo, which was a marvel, because Erith didn't know what was going on between her and Leo, and knowing the son of Hephaestus, he didn't, either.

So, suffice to say, she kind of needed them. All of them. Watching from a safe distance had never been Erith's thing, and especially not when the people she loved were involved in the danger and she couldn't be. She deserved to be there. She should be there. Ever since Tartarus, she was stronger, better. She should be protecting them. She'd been without them long enough. For fuck's sake, she'd let Nico and Jasper go off on some fool's mission. Couldn't she stop making sacrifices?

Haven't you ever heard of the definition of war? Luke's snide voice asked her within her head.

She knew he was going to present her with a flashback of what a tragedy he was, but she really wasn't in the mood, so she replied, Yes, you poor, pathetic boy, I have. Shut your mouth.

He must've been surprised, because he shut his metaphorical mouth.

Since Tartarus, the ghosts had been more present in her head, but also more friendly, and easier to control. Luke was the most active one, seconded by, surprisingly, Zoe Nightshade. It was as if actually seeing them, speaking to them in a way that made her mouth move, had changed something. She understood what made each of them tick, and in turn, they understood her better.

The other ghosts were Silena Beaureguard, dead Aphrodite girl, Piper's sister, and Ethan Nakamura. Ethan was the one that spoke the least. He brooded.

Erith really missed Patroclus. He was kind in the name of the word, as if it had been created by his very definition. She hadn't heard him since Tartarus, but she was sure she felt him sometimes―a subtle warmth that soothed her chest and put more tape on her seams.

He had said he would return. She just had to believe him.

But the ghosts weren't what troubled her, not right now. Neither was Leo and their stupid, screwed-up relationship, or her draw to Percy, like the molecules in their bodies were attracted to each other. Every time she wasn't near him, she felt like she was going to slide apart like broken puzzle pieces.