Percabeth - Timeless AU

Chapter 9

PERCY

He's not sure he'll ever get used to the way his stomach twists into a knot and lurches around inside him when Grover launches them into the past. He's not sure he ever wants to get used to it. All being well, Percy will find Castellan and take him out sooner rather than later - of course, that would be much easier if he had brought a gun with him. After the troubles of last time, he figured it would be best to arm himself when they arrived so that the weapon doesn't have the potential to start a world war practically three centuries too soon.

Percy tries to tell himself that he hasn't left his trusty firearm in the present because he knows Annabeth has enough to worry about without him waving a Glock 17 in the face of every historical figure he can. It's for history, not for her.

The Argo II shudders to a stop in 1692 and Percy undoes his seatbelts to let himself breathe.

"So, Professor Chase, any ideas what Castellan's after?" Grover spins in his chair to face them.

Annabeth just shrugs. "The Hindenburg made sense, even before I worked it out. But this? This isn't a specific event, the Salem Witch Trials lasted nearly two years but there was plenty going on outside of that. They only started in February, so why has Luke come here, to April. It's hardly at its peak."

He twitches at her use of Castellan's first name. The soldier in him would've snapped and told her not to call him Luke but he can't bear to make her already awful day any more miserable. Still, he hates that she humanised him. Percy knew what his job was and he would do it no matter what, but calling him Luke instead of Castellan would make it all the more difficult.

The door to the ship slides open as Annabeth continues to talk. "What could he possibly be doing so early on in the trials?"

Something catches Percy's attention in the distance and he holds a finger up to silence the others. It sounded like a crowd of people yelling various seventeenth century profanities alongside 'witch!' and 'guilty!'.

"I guess we follow the sound to find out."

The sound turned out to be a decent sized crowd of more than 50 people, all gathering speed as they marched through the village. Annabeth starting jogging towards the commotion, attempting to be stealthy but really just looking like she was running on hot coals due to her pained ankle from their last trip. Percy stifled a laugh and walked beside Grover who looked like he would like the ground to swallow him up any moment now.

"Any ideas?" Percy asked when they reached the edge of the village and caught up with Annabeth.

She paused in thought and spoke slowly as if she was still unsure. "I think they're on the way to a hearing. What's the date?"

Grover was quick to answer. "April 20th."

From an outside perspective, Percy could practically see the cogs turning inside Annabeth's head as all the pieces fell into place. It was fascinating to watch. If it wasn't for the knowledge that they were in the Salem Witch Trials and had a terrorist to track down, he would be content just to watch her for hours. Alas, this situation had rather large stakes that he wasn't prepared to risk.

"What're you thinking, wise girl?"

"I don't know why he's doing it, but I think I know who he's after."

Annabeth explained en route as they wove through the outskirts of the village in an attempt to keep a low profile. Apparently there was a hearing today for a man named Giles Corey. She was uncertain but it seemed to be the only logical explanation as to why Castellan had travelled to this particular time and place.

"He's arrested with three girls all accused of practicing witchcraft. One of them, Bridget Bishop, is the first person executed, but that doesn't happen till June so I'm still not sure why we're here." She mutters as they get closer and closer to the judgement hall.

They reach a large building and stand for a moment as the crowd they follows all push their way inside. "I guess we find out." Percy says, his voice quiet and unsteady.

With a determined nod, Annabeth heads inside leaving the boys no choice but to shrug and follow her.

Inside the building there must be about eighty people all crammed into rows of seats like pews. At the end of the room there's a stand and raised platform with a rather grand looking chair on it, presumably for the judge. He spots their historian finding a seat towards the back and heads in her direction, she's easy to locate even despite the strange looking hat that covers her distinct blonde hair because compared to everyone else in the room, her skin is remarkably clean.

When he takes in the faces of all the villagers, he can't help but notice the streaks of dirt that stain their cheeks and the mucky callouses on their hands as they shove their way to a seat. Grover sidesteps past a stout man who flares his nostrils as he passes as if they were a bad smell - sure, Percy knew he hadn't had a wash since he'd left his apartment a full 24 hours ago, but he couldn't possibly smell worse than these odorous folk.

A hammer sounds at the front and the room falls silent. In a hurry, Percy pulls Grover along the wall as to avoid obstructing the view of the angry mob of women gathering at the back of the strange pew-like seats.

"Order in the court!" A man calls from the judges seat, voice bellowing. Across the room, Percy meets Annabeth's eyes. "We are here today for the trials of Bridget Bishop, Giles Corey, Abigail Hobbs and Mary Warren on the charge of witchcraft."

The whole room seems to cry out, men shouting curse words and women muttering prayers. "Order!" The judge hammers against the wooden table. "Bring forward the accused, Bridget Bishop."

An elderly woman is brought out of a back room, hands tied together with rope and men on either arm. He recalls Annabeth telling him that she would be the first executed. If he didn't happen to know that she would die in June, Percy might think she was already dead. Her eyes were sunken, skin wrinkled and sagging. He could make out the individual bones of her fingers even despite his distance from the front and he watches as her eyes dart around the room.

"Mrs Bishop, you have been charged with witchcraft. How do you plead?"

Bridget's lips move as if to utter something, though Percy's can't hear or see what. A man shouts from the back of the room.

"She's a witch!"

Percy turns to the voice and is met with sharp, icy-blue eyes. Luke Castellan.

"Arrest her! She's a witch!"

It takes him a moment to realise that Castellan isn't referring to Bridget and that he has his hand out. He's pointing at Annabeth.

In an instant, someone has dragged her out of the room and through the doorway Bridget entered from. The last thing he sees of her as she tries to worm her way out of a burly man's grasp is her eyes, wide and searching for his, her lips pressed tightly together.

Without even thinking, Percy takes off after Castellan, determined to knock the smirk off of his smug face.