𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚; percy jackson

𝟐𝟒 | the golden sacrifices

Meara was in the water.

There was just one problem—she couldn't swim.

The moment she hit the surface, panic took hold. Water surged over her head, the cold biting into her skin as she flailed uselessly. She kicked her legs, but it only sent her deeper, salt stinging her eyes and throat as she coughed and gasped.

She barely broke the surface long enough to choke out, "Percy!" before a wave crashed over her again.

She struggled harder, limbs thrashing against the relentless pull of the water.

"Meara?" Percy spun at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm when he spotted her floundering.

He reached out, but she was already slipping under again.

When her head hadn't emerged for a few seconds, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.

Without hesitation, he dove after her.

The water was dark, but Percy could see perfectly, his senses adjusting in an instant.

His eyes scanned for Meara, expecting her to be struggling against the current.

But she wasn't.

She was sitting at the bottom.

Encased in a shimmering bubble of air.

Percy nearly choked on a laugh. Meara, arms crossed, scowled at him like this was his fault, mouthing the words: DUDE, GET ME OUT OF THE WATER.

Percy bit his lip to keep from cracking up.

Shaking his head, he reached out, commanding the water to lift them both. He closed his eyes, hoping his powers wouldn't let him down.

The current obeyed, sweeping them upward in a rush of bubbles.

Within seconds, they were unceremoniously dumped onto the stone floor of the underground chamber.

Meara landed on her hands and knees, coughing up water. "Nice," she muttered, wiping her mouth. "You're almost a pro at this water power thing."

Percy let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, figuring it out as I go." He tilted his head at her. "But, uh—the whole... bubble? Did you do that?"

"What do you think?" Meara gave him an exasperated look. "That it just appeared and decided to save me out of the kindness of its heart?"

"Okay fair enough, but how?" Percy frowned, still trying to piece it together.

Meara sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sky—air. I made a pocket of air." She waved her hands for emphasis. "Because, you know, oxygen is kind of important when you're drowning."

Understanding dawned on Percy's face. "Huh." He shook his head with a grin. "You're really good with your powers."

Meara scoffed, wringing water from her sleeves. "Not really. They just kinda show up when I need them, or better—completely out of nowhere." Then, narrowing her eyes, she nudged him. "Wait, was that a compliment?"

"Definitely not," Percy said, standing up quickly. "You're so conceited. Don't make me regret fishing you out of there."

Meara smirked, pushing herself up.

Together, they turned to face the reason they were down here in the first place—

A massive golden statue, looming over them in the dim chamber. In its grip, Ares' shield gleamed like a prize waiting to be claimed.

Percy crossed his arms, frowning. "Okay, but how are we supposed to get that shield down from there? It's not like we can just ask nicely."

Meara tilted her head, studying the statue, then let out a sharp breath. "Seriously? You don't recognize this?"