𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

18 - we stay winning at hangman

˖*࿐ •*⁀➷

MABEL HAD NOTHING AGAINST PLANES. She seemed to be the only one.

By the time they'd settled down in the cabin and Frank had gotten all the crying out of his system— Mabel didn't blame him, he probably deserved a breakdown— each of her questmates looked tense and frightened to some degree.

Hazel was reassuring Frank that he'd done good, that he had been brave, but she would glance toward the window every few seconds and her face would pale. Frank kept his head down, looking exhausted, but he leaned into Hazel's hand on his arm a little more over the roar of the engine.

Mabel and Percy were in the seats across from the two. Every time the plane hit a spot of turbulence, Percy flinched like he was bracing for a hit, his hand landing on Mabel's freckled forearm.

Mabel herself wasn't as affected— sure, she was freaked out from her episode the night prior, and her dream, and the words Ella had spouted just before they got on the plane, but Mabel was nothing if not a pro at masking uneasiness, so she took one for the team and stepped into the role of 'the calm one' for the time being.

Frank refused to explain exactly what his "family gift" was, but as they flew farther and farther north, he did brief them on his conversation with Mars the night before. He explained the prophecy Juno had issued when he was a baby— about his life being tied to a piece of firewood, and how he had asked Hazel to keep it for him.

Mabel got it. The curse thing, the awful Fate. She understood what it was like, to have your life tied to one thing. Firewood. Sanity. Lose either and it was all over.

Percy's thumb twitched on Mabel's arm as he tilted his head slightly. "Frank," he said, mouth twitching up, "I'm proud to be related to you."

Frank's ears turned red and he looked away. "Juno has some sort of plan for us. Something to do with the Prophecy of Eight."

"Yeah," Percy grumbled, brow lowering into that brooding frown he wore more often than not. "I didn't like her as Hera. I don't like her any better as Juno."

They hit another patch of turbulence and the other three demigods jumped, making Mabel raise a brow. She couldn't help but find their jumpiness the slightest bit endearing. That thought made her recheck herself for a moment. She was going soft, wasn't she? Curse them.

Hazel tucked her feet underneath her in her seat, studying Percy with gleaming amber eyes. There was always something so old in her gaze, something that had seen things they hadn't.

"You're a son of Poseidon, aren't you?" she asked. "You are a Greek demigod."

That settled in Mabel's mind. Poseidon. It explained a lot, she guessed. How different Percy was. Not in a bad way, just... out of place.

Percy reached up to grip his leather necklace. His other hand had taken custody of Mabel's right hand, laying her palm on his knee as he mindlessly toyed with her fingers. "I started to remember in Portland, after the gorgon's blood. It's been coming back to me slowly since then. There's another camp— Camp Half-Blood."

Something flickered in the back of Mabel's mind, from the night before. Jason, in her dreams, wearing an orange t-shirt. Jason, without memories, unable to tell her where he was. Maybe... well, that had to be a problem for later. Alaska first, freeing Death first.

"Another camp," Hazel echoed, almost dazed. "A Greek camp? Gods, if Octavian found out— "

"He'd declare war," Frank realized. "He's always been sure the Greeks were out there, plotting against us. He thought Percy was a spy."