When Things Fall Apart

Chapter Five

Although the earthquakes seized after a couple of days, the storms continued to rage across the Atlantic. No one could find Percy, not even the Hunt.

And perhaps, for good reason. Percy was in a place no one would have ever assumed him to be at. Heck, it was a place he never wanted to find himself in. The library. In specific, the New York Public Library.

Percy was on a mission for a book that may have had the answers he was looking for.

Percy wasn't looking like his usual self. He was wearing a black sweatshirt, with his hood up, and dark jeans. He did a quick scan of the place.

For a Tuesday morning, there were a lot more people than he had expected. He saw grad students looking for books amongst the shelves. An elderly man reading the newspaper. Kids playing games on the computers. Percy knew he wouldn't find the book among the civilians, however. No, it was in the archives in the basement.

Percy walked towards the right corner of the building, which led to a series of stairs going up and down. Although the public was only supposed to go up to the second and third levels, Percy found himself going to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs was a steel door. He tried to open it, but it was locked. Although Percy had a general idea of the plan, he didn't know what to do.

So, he improvised. He summoned some water and willed it to fill the cavity of the lock on the door. Then, he tried something he never had done before. He willed the water to freeze. As he did so, he felt his stomach experience the same coldness as the water. Before he knew it, the water was ice.

Then, he was about to turn his icicle key, when he looked through one of the reinforced windows on the door. There was a security sensor for any unauthorized entrances. If he opened the door, he would sound the alarm. Now, he could have grabbed a worker's ID card to prevent the alarms from ringing after opening the door. However, Percy didn't want to steal or break the public property. He was on a mission to terminate whatever killed Annabeth, but beyond that, his morals stayed the same.

But he was really annoyed. He couldn't open the door, and that was the only entrance.

"Excuse me, is someone down there," he heard someone yell from the upper flight of stairs. He was going to get busted by a librarian. He had to think quick. Then, an idea came to him.

"Hello, anyone there?" the librarian asked while going towards the door. To her surprise, there was no one there.

Just the smell of the sea breeze.

Percy had gone far enough away from the sensors, and he was inside the basement. He turned the corner and saw what he was looking for: the archives.

The room was temperature and moisture controlled for the safety of the books. However, the library must of assumed that locking it wasn't necessary, since the alarm was already connected to the other door. Percy opened the door, and the smell of old books hit him hard.

"Annabeth would have loved this," Percy mumbled to himself under his hood. He searched for a while. He could have stolen any one of the books and sold them for thousands of dollars, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to read part of the book he was looking for. And then he found it.

In the corner shelf sat the oldest copy of The Iliad by Homer. Although the story was transcribed over millennia, the version he was looking for was the oldest full manuscript, from the 10th century, AD. From what Percy had discerned through some of his research, this book was written by a demigod. When he made the manuscript, he left out certain parts that were unnecessary for mortals to read about. However, in the back of the book, hidden by the mist, the author left the hidden details for non-mortals to see. And Percy was that non-mortal.

Percy spent some time reading it thoroughly. He checked every other page for any more hidden information he could gather.

Then, when he was finished, he set the book down, and left the same way he came.

Later that day, when the custodians dusted off all of the books, they were slightly confused seeing the copy of Homer off of the shelf. To them, someone accidentally left the book open.

To anyone who could see through the mist, they would have seen the true words Homer had written.

Part 33: To Fade: How to Kill an Immortal
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Meanwhile, the Hunt were following their first lead, which led them to Montauk.

"Thalia, which cabin did he go to when he was younger?" asked Artemis.

"The one over there milady." They walked towards the cabin. All the girls held their bows tight, but Artemis. She wasn't scared of Percy. Not because he wasn't powerful, but because she still respected him for his selflessness and humility.

They neared the cabin and noticed that someone had been there. The question was if he still was hiding inside.

Artemis opened the door. She noticed all of the books and papers on the floor. The clutter was absurd.

She went to the wall, where he pinned all of his research. At the end, she saw a piece of paper that had his plans written down.

She narrowed her eyes. "Girls, can any of you read this?"

Phoebe spoke up. "It looks like a foreign language to me. Definitely written by a man." And she was correct. It turns out that Percy's education did not involve making his handwriting legible for anyone else but himself.

"That boy. Either he purposely did that to throw anyone off, or he just has bad handwriting. I suggest both," Phoebe scoffed. Some of the hunters nodded in agreement.

The raid was a bust, and Artemis was starting to get annoyed. Sure, she respected Percy. But the fact that an Olympian couldn't catch a demigod bothered her. All because of his boyish handwriting.