𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 - P. JACKSON

𝐒𝐈𝐗

ATLAS WAS CONFLICTED MORE SO THAN USUAL. See, the thing was he'd always hated his godly parent, for never wanting him, for never caring about him. But now? He didn't know what to feel, His father had healed him and saved him from certain death at the arch. The biggest question on his mind however was 'Why?' Why had he decided to show up now? Why had he never helped before? Why hadn't he claimed him yet? So many questions but absolutely 0 answers.

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, the train rolled into Denver. They hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. They also hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill."Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit.""We can't use phones, right?""I'm not talking about phones." The four wandered through downtown for about half an hour, Atlas's eyes scanned the area looking for some sort of car wash or anything of the sort. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere he turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at him, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city. 

"So, Uhm, Could you guys catch me up on what happened while I was passed out?" Atlas asked with a raised brow. Percy explained to him the talk with the naiad and the request for him to go to Santa Monica beach on request from his father. "A summons from Poseidon? That's cool." Atlas turned and about half a kilometer away was a do it yourself car wash. "Anna." Atlas nudged the girl who turned to where he was looking. "Good spotting, Blue." Annabeth said as she ruffled Atlas's hair and continued onward. "Oh fuck you." Atlas said as he walked up with her.

The four veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping their eyes open for patrol cars. They were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop with common sense could tell they were probably doing something they weren't supposed to."What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun."It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?""Don't look at me," she said. ""The dining car wiped me out." "Atlas?" Grover asked as he turned to the golden haired boy who was staring at the sun. "Uh, No, I'm saving mine." He said as Grover rolled his eyes and turned to Percy who fished out his last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter."Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping.""What are you talking about?"He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST.

 "I-M'ing.""Instant messaging?""Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods.""You summon the goddess with a spray gun?"Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. Atlas leaned against a wall as he watched out for mortals.

Annabeth held her palm out to Percy. "Drachma, please." Percy handed it over.She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer."Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested.For a moment, nothing happened.Then they were looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. They seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to them at the railing was a sandy haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow."Luke!" Percy called.He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing three feet in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow."Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?""We're . . . uh . . . fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "You're trying too hard." Atlas muttered as Annabeth elbowed him.