𝕍𝕖𝕟𝕚 𝕍𝕚𝕕𝕚 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕚¹ | ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ

2. I am not your son. You don't know that.

ꕥ Percy woke up on a huge, worn-down porch, sitting in one of those rickety wooden chairs that hang from the ceiling.

He took in his surroundings: strawberry fields, a valley with weird-looking buildings, green-filled hills, and the edge of a forest to his left. He took in a breath of fresh air; it smelled like strawberries.

His mouth felt dry, and on the table next to him was a drink that looked oddly like iced tea, topped with an umbrella stuck into a cherry. He hoped it was peach-flavoured. That was his favourite.

He reached out, trying to grasp the drink, but his hand was so weak that he almost dropped it.

"Careful," said a familiar voice.

There was Grover (no longer half-goat and nonchalant) sitting at a table with his old Latin teacher, Mr. Brunner (also looking oddly nonchalant).

Oh, so he wasn't just a lookalike; that was nice to know.

Percy swore in a way that his mother would have scolded him for, but he would have told her it was the New Yorker in him. "What the fu-fudge is going on?"

Mr. Brunner looked up from his playing cards, and Grover's snickering could be heard muffled from behind his hand.

"That was a nice save, Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner said. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean?" Percy spluttered. "Um, I don't know. Was it the giant bat that attacked me, that you said was that I'm finding odd, or maybe it was the giant bull or the girl that I am like ninety-nine percent sure was asking me out? Or maybe it was the way I'm pretty sure I was teleported from that giant tree to in front of those very steps?"

"She was not asking you out," Grover said.

Percy shot him a look. "You don't know that. You were unconscious."

"I may have been unconscious, but I know Lora; even better, I know you. Did she ask if you had eaten?"

Percy averts his eyes. "No."

"You're a terrible liar."

"It seems you were conscious for longer than we thought, Percy." Mr. Brunner said, cutting off their conversation. "Now, why don't you finish up your drink so we can discuss other matters?"

Percy's gaze landed back on the drink next to him. Grover helped him hold the drink, and he finished it with a few gulps. Putting the glass down, he flinched as we noted the taste; it tasted exactly like his mum's home-made signature blue chocolate cookies. 

His mum...

He briefly heard Mr. Brunner talking to Grover about finding some guy called Mr. D.

Grover placed a shoe box on his lap and cleared his throat.

"You saved my life. This was the least I could do. I went back, and well, I thought you might want this."

Inside the box was a black and white bull's horn, the base uneven and the tip littered with blood. Percy's stomach dropped.

"The Minotaur," he gaped.

"Um, Percy, that's not a good idea," he started, but was cut off.

"That's what they call him in the myths, isn't it? Half man, half bull. The Minotaur."

Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember besides all of the fighting?"

"The ride here and my mother. Is she really?"

Grover looked away. Percy swallowed the lump in his throat.

His mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.