American Royalty II

Part 24: The Locket and The Mark

Harry never thought he'd die at the hands of a corpse. Perhaps at the hands of Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters, but never at the cold, skeletal hands of a corpse. Yet here he was, being dragged deeper into the icy darkness, those white, bony fingers gripping him with a strength he couldn't fight.

Just as panic began to set in, the water around him shifted, rushing past like a sudden, powerful current. The corpse was flung off him, and Harry found himself enveloped in a strange bubble where he could breathe perfectly fine.

"I don't—" Harry stuttered, trying to make sense of what had just happened, his mind struggling to process the sudden change in his circumstances.

"You can ask all the questions you want later," Percy's voice cut through the confusion, calm and steady. Harry whipped around, his eyes widening as he saw Percy floating nearby, his arms casually crossed over his chest as if they weren't both underwater.

"But—"

"Later," Percy insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. Before Harry could protest, they began to ascend, the bright light from the surface growing clearer with each passing second.

They erupted out of the water, gasping for air, only to be met with a roaring ring of fire that encircled the entire island. The intense heat licked at their skin, and the crackling of the flames was deafening. Piper and Annabeth quickly pulled Percy and Harry up out of the water, dragging them onto solid ground. Harry, still reeling from the events underwater, reached out to steady Dumbledore, who was visibly struggling, his breath ragged and his movements unsteady as he exerted himself to control the encircling fire.

"We should've brought Leo with us," Percy muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing at the inferno. Harry looked at him in confusion, not understanding the reference, but there was no time to ask questions.

"Go," Dumbledore's voice, usually so strong and commanding, now sounded frighteningly weak, barely a whisper above the roar of the flames.

The group exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of what he meant.

"We have to go," Dumbledore repeated, his tone more urgent but still weak, as if every word was a struggle.

"Right," Annabeth said, snapping into action as she assessed their surroundings. Her eyes darted from the fire to the dark waters and then to Percy. "Percy, how fast can you get us out of this lake and back to the entrance?"

Percy didn't hesitate. "Fast enough," he replied, determination in his voice. He glanced back at the water, then at the others. "Everyone hold on tight. We're getting out of here."

The group quickly gathered around Percy, their hands gripping each other to stay connected. Percy took a deep breath, his eyes briefly closing as he focused. Then, with a wave of his hand, the water beneath them surged, lifting them all up in a powerful current.

The fire roared louder, but Percy's control over the water was stronger. The lake responded to his command, propelling them swiftly away from the island and towards the entrance. The flames grew distant as they raced across the surface of the water, the cold spray of the lake a stark contrast to the heat they'd just escaped.

Within moments, they reached the shore, the entrance to the cave looming before them. The water deposited them gently onto the rocky ground, and Percy let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, looking around at his friends.

Harry helped Dumbledore to his feet, the old wizard looking paler than ever. "We made it," Harry said, more to himself than anyone else, relief washing over him.