little bird - Percy Jackson

chapter twenty five

At the bottom of the rolling hills, the ground swallowed any demigod who dare touch the Earth, pulling them deeper and deeper into the soil like a pit of quicksand. There was nothing Wren could do to stop it, forced to watch the green grass fade to a barren brown, the destruction racing up the side of the hill towards her like a tsunami wave reaching for its victims amongst the highest buildings.

"Do you see what we could do, my child? The destruction... wiping out the useless demigod race. Is it not wonderful? What your blood will help me accomplish?"

In Wren's nightmares Gaea had always presented herself as a sleeping face. A giant, sleeping face that was carved into a mound of dirt, eyelids always half closed as she taunted Wren even while the girl slept.

For the first time, Gaea was not just a pile of dirt. Her eyes remained closed as if she would forbidden to ever open them, but this time she presented herself with a full body. She wore forest green robes that were riddled with gold and white as if it was sunlight peeking through crowded tree branches. Had the smile on her face not have assured bet that Gaea was excited to watch the demigod race burn, Wren would have thought she was beautiful.

But Wren was still gushing blood, covered in wounds that provided Gaea with the strength to rise. Mother Nature was not beautiful.

She was cruel.

"Join me, Wren Kelley. You will be at my mercy soon enough - let it be willingly."

"I will never join you - you fucking psycho!"

A laugh danced through the air, bringing a wind just as chilling as it's tone. "You are foolish to believe you have a choice. You will fail, and you will fall."

And then the ground beneath Wren's feet broke.

The millisecond long fall felt as though it lasted for eons, and her body cracked against the ground when it solidified beneath her. The ground was dark, soil so dry it felt like glassy sand.

When her eyes landed on the beaten boy in front of her, Wren screamed. She tried to scream. When she opened her mouth, the same dry soil began spilling out. She tried to cough, tried to scream again, but it only seemed to cake further up her lungs.

Percy tried to push himself to a stand, but his body kept giving out beneath him. His green eyes looks shattered, his orange camp shirt stained with blood. Wren tried to run forwards, but her feet only sunk into the ground and stranded her in place.

"The fate of the world lies in your hands... in the hands of the sea boy. You will die. It is only a matter of when." Gaea cackled as Wren sunk further into the ground, no choice but to watch as Percy continued to bleed in front of her, "Enjoy Tartarus, little bird."

As the dirt grew to cover her head...

Wren woke with a gasp. She brought her hands up to her throat, patting around her neck as she noticed the lingering dirt taste in her mouth.

Tartarus. Percy. No. No-

She grabbed for the old stuffed bird from her father that she hid away on her nightstand, but it wasn't there. None of her stuff was there. The decorations on the wall weren't her own, the sheets beneath her did not match what she used.

This isn't my room. This isn't my bed. Where am I... what...

A hand trailed up her leg, resting on the very top of her thigh. Wren nearly launched out of the bed in surprise, but then she heard the groggy voice that matched the hand.

"What'r'you doing?"

Percy fucking Jackson.

Wren's jaw dropped as she look from the boy sprawled out across the bed next to her and then back to the blank wall across from her.