The Winds Of Heaven (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

38. The Giant's Army

"Hazel!" Frank shook her arms. "Wake up!"

She opened her eyes. The night sky blazed with stars. The rocking of the boat was gone. She was lying on solid ground, her bundled sword and pack beside her.

She sat up groggily, her head spinning. They were on a cliff overlooking a beach. About a hundred feet away, the ocean glinted in the moonlight. The surf washed gently against the stern of their beached boat. To her right, hugging the edge of the cliff, was a building like a small church with a searchlight in the steeple. A lighthouse, she guessed. Behind them, fields of tall grass rustled in the wind.

"Where are we?" Hazel asked.

Frank exhaled. "We're in Mendocino, about a hundred and fifty miles north of the Golden Gate."

"A hundred and fifty miles?" Hazel groaned. "I've been out that long?"

Percy knelt beside her, the sea wind sweeping his hair. He put his hand on her forehead as if checking for a fever. "We couldn't wake you. Finally we decided to bring you ashore. We thought maybe the seasickness—"

"It wasn't seasickness." She took a deep breath. She couldn't hide the truth from them anymore. She remembered what Nico had said: If a flashback like that happens when you're in combat . . .

"I—I haven't been honest with you," she said. "What happened was a blackout. I have them once in a while."

"A blackout?" Frank took Hazel's hand, which startled her . . . though pleasantly so. "Is it medical? Why haven't I noticed before?"

"I try to hide it," she admitted. "I've been lucky so far, but it's getting worse. It's not medical . . . not really. Nico says it's a side effect from my past, from where he found me."

Percy's intense green eyes were hard to read. She couldn't tell whether he was concerned or wary. "Where exactly did Nico find you?" he asked.

Hazel's tongue felt like cotton. She was afraid if she started talking, she'd slip back into the past, but they deserved to know. If she failed them on this quest, zonked out when they needed her most . . . she couldn't bear that idea.

"I'll explain," she promised. She clawed through her pack. Stupidly, she'd forgotten to bring a water bottle. "Is . . . is there anything to drink?"

"Yeah." Percy muttered a curse in Greek. "That was dumb. I left my supplies down at the boat."

Hazel felt bad asking them to take care of her, but she'd woken up parched and exhausted, as if she'd lived the last few months in both the past and the present. She shouldered her pack and sword. "Never mind. I can walk. . . ."

"Don't even think about it," Frank said. "Not until you've had some food and water. I'll get the supplies."

"No, I'll go." Percy glanced at Frank's hand on Hazel's. Then he scanned the horizon as if he sensed trouble, but there was nothing to see—just the lighthouse and the field of grass stretching inland. "You two stay here. I'll be right back."

"You sure?" Hazel said feebly. "I don't want you to—"

"It's fine," Percy said. "Frank, just keep your eyes open. Something about this place . . . I don't know."

"I'll keep her safe," Frank promised.

Percy dashed off.

Once they were alone, Frank seemed to realize he was still holding Hazel's hand. He cleared his throat and let go.

"I, um . . . I think I understand your blackouts," he said. "And where you come from."

Her heartbeat stumbled. "You do?"