𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚; percy jackson

𝟏𝟕 | veil of the unknown

The group was seated at their breakfast table.

Meara, arms folded, looked like she didn't have a care in the world. Percy, still rattled from his nightmare, couldn't stop casting her glances, half-annoyed and half-curious.

Finally, Meara cracked one eye open, her expression one of feigned pity. "Rough night, bimbo? You look worse than usual, and that's saying something." She said, remembering their late night conversation.

Percy rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself from snapping back. "Guess I'm just lucky. I get all the monsters lining up for me."

"Right," she replied, her tone laced with sarcasm as she stretched and sat up. "Meanwhile, I was dealing with an absolute terror in my sleep—a giant chicken chasing me down a mountain. Not quite monster material, but still horrifying in its own way."

Percy snorted, a smirk forming before he could hide it. "Wait, a chicken? And here I thought you were fearless." He couldn't admit it to himself, but he was secretly glad that she didn't have another nightmare throughout the night.

Meara narrowed her eyes at him, but a glimmer of humor broke through. "For the record, it was a massive chicken, and it was terrifying. I'd love to see you handle it, big hero."

"Sure," Percy replied, leaning back with a grin. "Send it my way. Chickens are about all I'm missing these days."

Annabeth and Grover shared a look, both trying to hide their amusement. They'd noticed something different between Percy and Meara, like their banter had started meaning more than just trading insults.

The humor slowly faded from Percy's face as he glanced at her, then at the rest of the group. "Jokes aside, these dreams... they're not just random. It's like they're warning me. I keep getting flashes of something big—something dangerous."

Meara's playful smirk softened, though her eyes remained sharp. "You're not the only one. I've been having strange flashes too. Whatever's coming, it's not going to be pretty." She held his gaze a moment longer, a flicker of understanding passing between them.

Before Percy could respond, the auditor arrived, snapping them back to reality, asking to see their tickets.

Annabeth fumbled in her backpack and handed him the ticket, after he inspected it, he knowingly glared at them "You were in cabin 17B?" the children exchanged looks. That's when they noticed the 'Police' sign at his vest.

He led them to the same cabin they had slept in the night before, but now it was barely recognizable. The once-intact fabrics were torn, and the window was cracked open, allowing gusts of wind to send bits of fabric swirling chaotically around the enclosed space.

"Do you want to explain?" the man asked, his eyes narrowing as he waited for an answer.

"Wait, you think we did this?" Percy shot back, his tone laced with disbelief and defensiveness.

"Did you?" the officer pressed, clearly unconvinced by Percy's reaction.

Meara's eyes flickered around the area, her gut telling her something was off.  Something bad was nearby, hiding just among them.

"No! I mean—how? And why would we?" Percy's frustration grew, but Grover stepped in, his voice level as he tried to calm things down. "Sir, when we left to get breakfast, everything was fine."

"We have a witness," the officer replied, motioning to a woman standing nearby. "She says she heard the window smash, then children's voices."

Meara's eyes snapped toward the so-called witness, her instincts kicking in. Something about this didn't add up. She scanned the group quickly, looking for any sign that someone else felt the same. It didn't take long—her gaze met Annabeth's, who seemed to be waiting for just that.

Annabeth had been quietly observing the whole time, but now she stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Are we under arrest?" She planted a question, her eyes scanning the wrecked cabin.

The officer's mouth twisted into a scowl. "I don't think you want to take that tone with me, little girl" He shook his head, as if the very idea of being questioned by her was laughable.

She glared up at him. "Are we under arrest?" Annabeth repeated sharply, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Meara's lips curled up proudly as she watched the other girl.

The officer hesitated, clearly not expecting such boldness from a kid. His silence hung in the air, heavy and uncertain.

•

The four of them found themselves seated back at their breakfast table, but now, being tensely watched by the same officer, who currently questioned his witness—the woman.

They had a conversation about what happened and why was their room torn apart for, but that was interrupted by a tap on Annabeth's shoulder.

The woman, and also the witness against them, gave them a tight-lipped smile. "Mind if I sit here?" She asked kindly.

Without awaiting for an answer, she sat down with another police officer standing by their table. She put a bag with which sounded like a dog inside right next to her. "Ah, you poor dears, your parents aren't here, are they?"

Meara raised an eyebrow at her act, she didn't feel good in her presence. "Excuse me, would you mind giving us...a little space? I think that you're making them nervous." She kindly spoke to the officer, making her nod and go back to where they questioned the lady, which was on the other side of the wagon.

"I want you to know, that I don't actually think that you made that mess back there, I just wanted a moment alone with you. There are some things—" She didn't have the chance to get to the end of her sentence thanks to Grover's interruption.

"You have something on your jacket. Looks like..." His voice trailed off. "Looks like glass"

Annabeth's eyes widened slightly, realizing why she felt off about the incident. Right away, she looked at Meara who was already urgently looking at her.

"The window wasn't smashed from inside the cabin. Someone smashed it in from the outside." He continued calmly as the woman's look turned from kind to cruel and the dog in her bag growled.