Book 1 - The Constriction in Breathing Air

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the Spool

(Four Years Old)

"I'm sorry."

Sally startled at the small voice, spinning to face the darkness of the hall. Her little boy stood there, his eyes glowing like soft sea glass, sad and hunched over.

"Oh baby, no." She was quick to set the towel aside and approach, bending down to his level. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I got kicked out of another daycare," he replied miserably, "it was my fault."

"It was not," she answered firmly. "You and I both know it wasn't. What happened was an accident; nobody can be blamed for the nature of snakes. She shouldn't have said that to you—she shouldn't have—" It made her angry just thinking about it. How dare that woman call her son a monster, her beautiful, kind four year old. Even the head daycare attendant had not agreed with that. Percy wasn't welcome back, but Sally had made damn sure that that woman wasn't either.

If she happened to not find a new job anywhere in the area, or anywhere in New York for that matter, well, it was just bad luck.

Bad luck and one angry Sally Jackson with a possessive Sea God in her silent prayers.

Sally kissed her baby's forehead, smoothing back his curls. "Come now," she said, "time to sit in the bath, your scales are getting dry again."

"Will you read me another story?"

"Of course baby, I'll start the bath so why don't you go pick out one of our books?" His face lit up; he hurried away towards his room, her soft laughter chasing after him.

She made sure to add extra salt to his bath to account for the swollen gills on his ribs.

"You've got to tell me when they get like this," she chided. "We don't want you getting sick."

"Sorry μαμά."

She ruffled his hair in response and picked up their book.

"Now, where were we..."

(Six Years Old)

"What's wrong with me?" Percy sobbed, "what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Sally whispered fiercely, tugging him into her arms. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You are Percy Jackson, you are ο γιος μου, you are your γιος του πατέρα, and you are so much more.

"I keep making a mess of things. Those kids could've gotten hurt; the sharks could've hurt them."

Outside, a storm raged without lightning. Waves crashed down on the beach in sorrow.

"No," she argued, "you weren't trying to hurt anyone. This world is just not for you, it never was. I am just so, so selfish."

"You're not," he protested immediately, but she shook her head, placing their foreheads together.

"I am," she answered softly, "gods, I am so selfish. I keep you with me despite there being somewhere better, somewhere safer, somewhere you could spread yourself out and stop being condensed."

"I wouldn't want to go, if it meant I couldn't be here with you." Percy clung to his mother, who held on just as tight.

"One day," her voice cracked, "you might not have that choice. But it's not today. Maybe soon, but not today. Breathe, my son, hold fast."

Percy breathed.

Outside, the storm calmed.

"Brave the storm."

Sally pulled back but did not let go, wiping her son's tears from his face. She wiped her own afterwards, kissing his forehead.

"You mentioned ο πατέρα μου...can you tell me about him?"

"I can't." Her heart broke when his face fell. "There are so many things I cannot tell you, for your own safety, but..."

She approached his bookshelf, painted purple with tiny blue handprints blazed into the side. It was littered with stickers of iridescent fish.

She chose one seemingly at random and flicked through it, before she grabbed a bookmark and slotted it somewhere specific. The book closed with a snap, and she handed it to him.

"I'm going to make lunch," she announced, "and then together we'll make cookies."

Percy watched her go, slightly confused until he looked down to the book.

Greek Gods and Monsters.

Sally had always been smarter than anyone gave her credit for. Percy looked over the worn edges, one of his favourite books to browse through because the artwork was more terrifying than cute. He opened the page bookmarked.

Poseidon: The Greek God of the Seas. Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses.

It was crazy.

It felt right.

(Ten Years Old)

"I wouldn't do that."

Grant looked up from where he was about to dump the bag.

A kid stared at him with unsettling eyes. He couldn't quite get the colour, somewhere between green and brown.

"What?" He grunted.

"I wouldn't do that." The boy gestured to the bag. "Throw that in the river, I mean. They don't like it when you do that."

He blinked, looking back at the murky and frankly disgusting water.

"Who doesn't?" He humored, despite knowing exactly who. The boy was wearing a turquoise long-sleeve shirt, the words 'Clean-Up Crew!' plastered across the front in a bold black. He'd seen the group a couple of times, going out on little row boats and walking along the edges of Manhattan, collecting trash from the water.

Guess he'd gotten caught.

"The beings that live in the river."

...What?

Unbidden, his eyes snapped to the river and its dirty surface. Nothing. There was nothing there.

He looked back at the boy with unsettling eyes, and a voice in the back of his head noted how the shade of the boy's eyes looked exactly like the water.

"The beings that live in the river," the boy repeated, smiling. Grant almost flinched at the sharp teeth, but when he focused, they weren't sharp. "They don't like when people throw trash in the river."

"I'm sure the river can't mind," he tried ruefully, but it fell flat.

Something was happening; something was wrong.

The boy's smile was blinding. Behind Grant, something splashed in the water.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"Percy! C'mon! We're moving ahead now!"

"Coming!" Percy called. Grant's eyes shuttered and he finally took a deep breath.

"Please put that trash at the curb," the boy said, "I'm sure you won't do this again."

No, Grant thought almost hysterically, no he wouldn't ever come near the rivers again.

"Who were you talking to?" Mrs. Calvin asked worriedly, "I told you not to wander off Percy."

"Sorry Mrs. Calvin, that man was going to dump some more garbage in the river and I wanted to ask him not to."

She looked past him with a frown, squinting. They both watched the man place the trash bag in a can on the curb, then stumble off.

"Honestly," Mrs. Calvin sighed, shaking her head. "People these days. Good catch Percy, please just let someone older know next time so we know where you are."

"Of course!"