Daughter of the Earth

Tuna Fish

Percy's heart did jumping jacks while Chrysaor walked back and forth, inspecting them like prized cattle. A dozen of his dolphin-man warriors stayed in a ring around them, spears leveled at Percy's chest, while dozens more ransacked the ship, banging and crashing around belowdecks. One carried a box of ambrosia up the stairs. Another carried an armful of ballista bolts and a crate of Greek fire.

"Careful with that!" Annabeth warned. "It'll blow up both our ships."

"Ha!" Chrysaor said. "We know all about Greek fire, girl. Don't worry. We've been looting and pillaging ships on the Mare Nostrum for eons."

"Your accent sounds familiar," Percy said. "Have we met?"

"I haven't had the pleasure." Chrysaor's golden gorgon mask snarled at him, though it was impossible to tell what his real expression might be underneath. "But I've heard all about you, Percy Jackson. Oh, yes, the young man who saved Olympus. And his faithful sidekick, Annabeth Chase."

"I'm nobody's sidekick," Annabeth growled. "And, Percy, his accent sounds familiar because he sounds like his mother. We killed her in New Jersey."

Percy frowned. "I'm pretty sure that accent isn't New Jersey. Who's his—? Oh."

It all fell into place. Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium—the lair of Medusa. She'd talked with that same accent, at least until Percy had cut off her head.

"Medusa is your mom?" he asked. "Dude, that sucks for you."

Judging from the sound in Chrysaor's throat, he was now snarling under the mask, too.

"You are as arrogant as the first Perseus," Chrysaor said. "But, yes, Percy Jackson. Poseidon was my father. Medusa was my mother. After Medusa was changed into a monster by that so-called goddess of wisdom..." The golden mask turned on Annabeth. "That would be your mother, I believe...Medusa's two children were trapped inside her, unable to be born. When the original Perseus cut off Medusa's head—"

"Two children sprang out," Annabeth remembered. "Pegasus and you."

Percy blinked. "So your brother is a winged horse. But you're also my half brother, which means all the flying horses in the world are my...You know what? Let's forget it."

He'd learned years ago it was better not to dwell too much on who was related to whom on the godly side of things. After Tyson the Cyclops adopted him as a brother, Percy decided that that was about as far as he wanted to extend the family.

"But if you're Medusa's kid," he said, "why haven't I ever heard of you?"

Chrysaor sighed in exasperation. "When your brother is Pegasus, you get used to being forgotten. Oh, look, a winged horse! Does anyone care about me? No!" He raised the tip of his blade to Percy's eyes. "But don't underestimate me. My name means the Golden Sword for a reason."

"Imperial gold?" Percy guessed.

"Bah! Enchanted gold, yes. Later on, the Romans called it Imperial gold, but I was the first to ever wield such a blade. I should have been the most famous hero of all time! Since the legend-tellers decided to ignore me, I became a villain instead. I resolved to put my heritage to use. As the son of Medusa, I would inspire terror. As the son of Poseidon, I would rule the seas!"

"You became a pirate," Annabeth summed up.

Chrysaor spread his arms, which was fine with Percy since it got the sword point away from his eyes.

"The best pirate," Chrysaor said. "I've sailed these waters for centuries, waylaying any demigods foolish enough to explore the Mare Nostrum. This is my territory now. And all you have is mine."