Prophesied Powder, PJO

2.10

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Chapter 21
The Fleece Works It's Magic
Too Well

Volume 2: The Sea of Monsters

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On the same day as the race, Grover announced that he would be able to spend the rest of the summer with them before resuming his quest for Pan. His bosses at the Council of Cloven Elders were so impressed that he had not gotten himself killed and had cleared the way for future searchers, that they had granted him a two-month furlough and a new set of reed pipes. Unfortunately, Grover played those pipes all afternoon long, and he was not good at it.

"When will you play reed pipes for me?" Pat asked Pallas, nudging him with his elbow.

Pallas rolled his eyes, "I do not know how to play reed pipes," Pallas did not mention that he could probably learn it in less than a week, "I play piano and violin."

"You huh?" Percy asked.

"He's the son of the music god, dude!" Pat laughed, "What did you expect?"

Chiron gave them use of the phones to call their parents, and Pat waited for his dad and Harley to stop stealing the phone from each other before he said, "Stay off any cruises too, I don't trust them anymore."

Pallas watched Pat go back and forth with Warren before he sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm fine, I promise. So is Pallas. Yes, so is Annabeth. And Percy. Yes." Pause. "I love you too."

As for Tyson, the campers treated him like a hero. Until eventually, Chiron told Pat, Pallas, Annabeth, and Grover that Poseidon had summoned Tyson to the forges. Annabeth wanted them to check on Percy immediately, so they found their way down to the beach. When they reached the sand dune, Percy turned to them. He was blinking a lot, but Pallas decided to be polite and did not mention it.

"Tyson..." He tried to tell them, "He had to..."

"We know," Annabeth said softly. "Chiron told us."

"Cyclopes forges." Grover shuddered. "I hear the cafeteria food there is terrible! Like, no enchiladas at all."

Annabeth held out her hand. "Come on, Seaweed Brain. Time for dinner."

A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in their valley. They were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside their magical borders. Pallas slept easily with his nightlight and his dragon fang and all of his siblings--even Tyler's snoring.

The next morning was chaos. Everyone woke up to banging on doors and confusing questions and running up Half-Blood Hill in hastily thrown on clothes. Something about Annabeth, something about the Fleece--bits and pieces of drama thrown around. Pallas was out of his cabin with one shoe untied and the other half on his foot.

"Pat!" He called, "Ce qui s'est passé?"

Pat answered in French as Pallas walked up the hill with Silena and the rest of the Aphrodite cabin. He knew he could rely on the children of Aphrodite to have all of the details; Pat always stuck his nose where it did not belong anyways. They were as much gossips as the older campers were flirts.

Something huge had happened, the entire camp must have heard. A few campers were already making their way towards the hill, satyrs and nymphs and heroes in a weird mix of armor and pajamas. Dawn was only just breaking.

From what Pat knew, Annabeth had been on guard duty, and someone was injured at the tree. He did not know if it was Annabeth.

"Go ahead," Pat told him, this time in English, "I'll make my way there,"

Pallas hesitated for a second, then squeezed Pat's arm and sprinted the rest of the way up the hill. The fleece was still glittering in the branches of the pine tree, the storm had broken, and the sky was bloodred. At the base of the tree, a girl was unconscious, and another girl in Greek armor was kneeling next to her. Annabeth was the second girl--Annabeth was okay.

Everyone moved out of Chiron's way when he approached; Percy was on his back, and Grover was following them.

"It healed the tree," Chiron said, his voice ragged. "And poison was not the only thing it purged."

When Annabeth saw us, she ran to Chiron. "It...she...just suddenly there..."

Her eyes were streaming with tears. Pallas took a few steps closer to the girl for a better look, but Percy jumped off Chiron's back and ran past Pallas, kneeling by her side. Chiron said: "Percy, wait!"

Pallas looked over Percy's shoulder. She had short black hair and freckles across her nose. She was built like a long-distance runner, lithe and strong, and she wore clothes that were somewhere between punk and Goth—a black T-shirt, black tattered jeans, and a leather jacket with buttons from a bunch of bands that Pallas did not know.

Pallas turned back to Annabeth, who was still crying. Grover was panting from his run up the hill, "It's true..." He was saying, "I can't believe..."

Nobody else came close to the girl.

Pallas thought he understood what was happening. And he did not like it.

"She needs nectar and ambrosia," Percy said. He took her by the shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position, resting her head on his shoulder. Nobody moved, so Percy started yelling, "Come on! What's wrong with you people? Let's get her to the Big House!"

Not even Chiron moved.

Then the girl took a shaky breath. She coughed and opened her eyes. Her irises were startlingly blue—electric blue. The girl stared at Percy in bewilderment, shivering and wild-eyed. "Who—"

"I'm Percy," He said. "You're safe now."

"Strangest dream..."

"It's okay."

"Dying."

"No," Percy assured her. "You're okay. What's your name?"

Pallas grimaced, bracing himself for the answer. The impact that she could have could be utterly destructive. Even Annabeth and Grover, who should have been celebrating, were frozen thinking about what this meant.

"I am Thalia," the girl said. "Daughter of Zeus."