𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

125

Percy stared at the Athena Parthenos, waiting for it to strike him down.

Leo's new mechanical hoist system had lowered the statue onto the hillside with surprising ease. Now the forty-foot-tall goddess gazed serenely over the River Acheron, her gold dress like molten metal in the sun. Just thinking about how this river was the same one they had almost fallen into in Tartarus, made Percy move away from it.

"Incredible," Reyna admitted.

She was still red-eyed from crying. Soon after she'd landed on the Argo II, her pegasus Scipio had collapsed, overwhelmed by poisoned claw marks from a gryphon attack the night before. Reyna had put the horse out of his misery with her golden knife, turning the pegasus into dust that scattered in the sweet-smelling Greek air. Maybe not a bad end for a flying horse, but Reyna had lost a loyal friend. Percy figured that she'd given up too much in her life already.

The praetor circled the Athena Parthenos warily. "It looks newly made."

"Yeah," Leo said. "We brushed off the cobwebs, used a little Windex. It wasn't hard."

The Argo II hovered just overhead. With Festus keeping watch for threats on the radar, the entire crew had decided to eat lunch on the hillside while they discussed what to do. After the last few weeks, Percy figured they'd earned a good meal together—really anything that wasn't fire water or drakon meat soup.

"Hey, Reyna," Annabeth called. "Have some food. Join us."

The praetor glanced over, her dark eyebrows furrowed, as if join us didn't quite compute. Percy had never seen Reyna without her armor before. It was on board the ship, being repaired by Buford the Wonder Table. She wore a pair of jeans and a purple Camp Jupiter T-shirt and looked almost like a normal teenager—except for the knife at her belt and that guarded expression, like she was ready for an attack from any direction.

"All right," she said finally.

They scooted over to make room for her in the circle. She sat cross-legged next to Annabeth, picked up a cheese sandwich, and nibbled at the edge. A direct contrast to her- Hadrian was trying to shove three donuts with different toppings in his mouth simultaneously. It was endearing. Percy wanted to slap himself

"So," Reyna said. "Frank Zhang... praetor."

Frank shifted, wiping crumbs from his chin. "Well, yeah. Field promotion."

"To lead a different legion," Reyna noted. "A legion of ghosts."

Hazel put her arm protectively through Frank's. After an hour in sick bay, they both looked a lot better; but Percy could tell they weren't sure what to think about their old boss from Camp Jupiter dropping in for lunch.

"Reyna," Jason said, "you should've seen him."

"He was amazing," Annabeth agreed.

"Frank is a leader," Hazel insisted. "He makes a great praetor."

Reyna's eyes stayed on Frank. "I believe you," she said. "I approve."

Frank blinked. "You do?"

Reyna smiled dryly. "A son of Mars, the hero who helped to bring back the eagle of the legion... I can work with a demigod like that. I'm just wondering how to convince the Twelfth Fulminata."

Frank scowled. "Yeah. I've been wondering the same thing."

Percy still couldn't get over how much Frank had changed. A "growth spurt" was putting it mildly. He was at least three inches taller, less pudgy, and more bulky, like a linebacker. His face looked sturdier, his jawline more rugged. It was as if Frank had turned into a bull and then back to human, but he'd kept some of the bullishness.

Hadrian hadn't even hid the fact that he checked him out. Frank just blushed and Percy had turned away.

"The legion will listen to you, Reyna," Frank said. "You made it here alone, across the ancient lands."

Reyna chewed her sandwich as if it were cardboard. "In doing so, I broke the laws of the legion."

"Caesar broke the law when he crossed the Rubicon," Frank said. "Great leaders have to think outside the box sometimes."

She shook her head. "I'm not Caesar. After finding Jason's note in Diocletian's Palace, tracking you down was easy. I only did what I thought was necessary."

Percy couldn't help smiling. "Reyna, you're too modest. Flying halfway across the world by yourself to answer Hadrian's plea, because you knew it was our best chance for peace? That's pretty freaking heroic."

Hadrian hadn't explained much of the dream he had that day in Tartarus, just that the Roman needed to bring the statue to camp half blood, whatever that meant. Thankfully, the message had gotten sent through.

Reyna shrugged. "Says the demigod who fell into Tartarus and found his way back."

"Percy passed out like fifty times" Hadrian swallowed the donut he was eating, "And me, like the true prince charming I am, had to rescue him time and time again"

Hadrian never really looked bad. Not even when he had blood on his face, covered in soot, monster dust. Not even dehydrated, dying, mid battle. Not once did he look bad. Maybe it was the Eros charm, but Percy had gotten the feeling that it was more than that. And it had something to do with him.

Particularly- the tingle that ran up through his hand when his fingers entwined with Hadrian's. Gods, really? Right now? How was Tartarus the best place to have a god damn sexuality crisis? It wasn't technically much of a crisis.

Percy already knew what he wanted.

The others started laughing, but Percy didn't mind. It felt good to see them smile. Hell, just being in the mortal world felt good, breathing un-poisonous air, enjoying actual sunshine on his back.

Suddenly he thought of Bob. Tell the sun and stars hello for me. He thought of Kira whom he'd known for minutes at best, Kira who volunteered to stay behind. Percy hoped they could find their way out of Tartarus.

He thought of the expression on Hadrian's face when it dawned on him, the pure fucking rage and heartbreak. Percy looked at him now, laughing with his friends... they would talk about it later, or maybe never.

Percy's smile melted. Bob, Kira and Damasen had sacrificed their lives so that Percy and Hadrian could sit here now, enjoying the sunlight and laughing with their friends.

It wasn't fair.