The Winds Of Heaven (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

40. In Pluto's Shrine

Even before she got on the boat, Hazel felt queasy.

She kept thinking about Phineas with steam coming out of his eyes, his hands crumbling to dust. Percy had assured her that she wasn't like Phineas. But she was. She'd done something even worse than torment harpies.

You started this whole thing! Phineas had said. If it weren't for you, Alcyoneus wouldn't be alive!

As the boat sped down the Columbia River, Hazel tried to forget. She helped Ella make a nest out of old books and magazines they'd liberated from the library's recycling bin.

They hadn't really planned on taking the harpy with them, but Ella acted like the matter was decided.

"Friends," she muttered. "'Ten seasons. 1994 to 2004.' Friends melt Phineas and give Ella jerky. Ella will go with her friends."

Now she was roosting comfortably in the stern, nibbling bits of jerky and reciting random lines from Charles Dickens and 50 Tricks to Teach Your Dog.

Percy knelt in the bow, steering them toward the ocean with his freaky mind-over-water powers. Hazel sat next to Frank on the center bench, their shoulders touching, which made her feel as jittery as a harpy.

She remembered how Frank stood up for her in Portland, shouting, "She's a good person!" as if he was ready to take on anybody who denied it.

A week ago, if someone had suggested that Frank was a child of Mars, Hazel would have laughed. Frank was much too sweet and gentle for that. She had always felt protective of him because of his clumsiness and his knack for getting into trouble.

Since they'd left camp, she saw him differently. He had more courage than she'd realized. He was the one looking out for her. She had to admit that the change was kind of nice.

The river widened into the ocean. The Pax turned north. As they sailed, Frank kept her spirits up by telling her silly jokes—Why did the Minotaur cross the road? How many fauns does it take to change a lightbulb? He pointed out buildings along the coastline that reminded him of places in Vancouver.

The sky started to darken, the sea turning the same rusty color as Ella's wings. June 21 was almost over. The Cerealia would happen in the evening, exactly seventy-two hours from now.

Finally Frank brought out some food from his pack—sodas and muffins he'd scavenged from Phineas's table. He passed them around.

"It's okay, Hazel," he said quietly. "My mom used to say you shouldn't try to carry a problem alone. But if you don't want to talk about it, that's okay."

Hazel took a shaky breath. She was afraid to talk—not just because she was embarrassed. She didn't want to black out and slip into the past.

"You were right," she said, "when you guessed I came back from the Underworld. I'm . . . I'm an escapee. I shouldn't be alive."

She felt like a dam had broken. The story flooded out. She explained how her mother had summoned Pluto and fallen in love with the god. She explained her mother's wish for all the riches in the earth, and how that had turned into Hazel's curse. She described her life in New Orleans—everything except her boyfriend Sammy. Looking at Frank, she couldn't bring herself to talk about that.

She described the Voice, and how Gaea had slowly taken over her mother's mind. She explained how they had moved to Alaska, how Hazel had helped to raise the giant Alcyoneus, and how she had died, sinking the island into Resurrection Bay.

She knew Percy and Ella were listening, but she spoke mostly to Frank. When she had finished, she was afraid to look at him. She waited for him to move away from her, maybe tell her she was a monster after all.