the great wave | percy jackson

𝑥𝑣𝑖𝑖𝑖 - asphodel

"When?" Jason demanded hotly, rising to his feet next to her. "What happened?"

Lit shrugged, far too casually. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail headed west. Some missing demigod–I don't recall."

"Percy," Ash choked. A trail west, that must mean they had a lead. Her heart soared in her chest. She exchanged a look with Jason and they came to the same conclusion at the same time: finding the Hunters? Next up on the priority list.

Midas scratched his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalled. "Absolutely refused to be turned into gold, and I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."

Jason sent meaningful looks to their other two friends and they got the message, standing warily. Ash's knuckles whitened as she gripped the hilt of her sword.

"Well," Piper said. "It's been a great visit. Welcome back to life. Thanks for the gold bag. We'll make sure not to fumble it."

"Oh, but you can't leave!" Midas cried. "I know you're not serious investors, but that's all right! I have to rebuild my collection."

Lit smirked cruelly. The king rose; while Leo and Piper stepped away from him, Ash stood her ground, and Jason felt no choice but to stay there with her. But they at least still had the whole coffee table between them...

"Don't worry," the king assured. "You don't have to be turned to gold. I give all my guests a choice–join my collection, or die at the hands of Lityerses. Really, it's good either way."

Ash scoffed and Piper tried to use her charmspeak. "Your Majesty, you can't–"

Quicker than any old man should've been able to move, Midas lashed out and grabbed her wrist. "No!" Jason yelled as Ash screamed and swiped at the king with her sword, but he arched out of the way and danced over to Leo. Midas touched his hand and within seconds both of their friends had been transformed into solid gold.

Ash stumbled forward, crashing into the statue that was once Piper and clasping her smooth metallic face in her hands. She poured energy into her palms, warming the gold, almost making it seem like it could be softening until her head started spinning and she found herself having to release the girl, breath coming in heavy pants.

Her friends. Gone. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, just like Percy. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Midas smiled apologetically. "Gold trumps all, I'm afraid." He waved around him at the priceless furniture and decor. "In this room, my power dampens any other: fire, charmspeak... even resurrection. Which leaves me with only two more trophies to collect."

"Fat fucking chance," Ash said, and charged.

₪₪₪

Ash was a little surprised to find approximately nobody having her back as Lityerses stepped into her path, engaging her with his long bronze sword, matching her strikes in a flurry of razor-sharp blades that was very quickly starting to wreak havoc in the room. But Jason wasn't Percy (unfortunately), and he was taking the far more logical approach to this whole situation: calling the adult for assistance.

"Hedge!" Jason yelled. "Need help in here!"

But for once, the satyr didn't charge in. Ash hoped he was just really enjoying some good grass and not sitting at the bottom of some punji stick pit trap. Midas had scampered off to the side and now Jason was chasing him around like an episode of Tom and Jerry, which Ash might have laughed at if Lit hadn't been giving her quite a fight. He disarmed her and kicked Reaper away; she was forced to draw her daggers, using both of them together to hold him off until she'd ducked and weaved her way over to where her sword lay on the marble floor. Kicking it up with her foot, she threw her daggers in quick succession before catching it in her left, grinning savagely when Lit screeched in pain, staggering and clutching a deep gash on his upper arm. She took the opportunity to slam him in the stomach with the hilt of her sword, then knee him in the nards for good measure, sending the son of Demeter wheezing to the ground.