Silver Water (Percy Jackson and Red Queen crossover)

Training? More Like A Mini Hunger Games

~~~one-and-a-half weeks later~~~

Percy's POV:

I'm just starting to get the hang of things when the mood of Training shifts drastically. Evangeline and her lackeys don't snipe at me and Istvan doesn't try to pick a fight with me, instead, they focus intently on their warm-ups. Even Maven goes through his stretches more carefully, like he's preparing for something.

"What's going on?" I ask him, nodding to the rest of the class. My eyes linger on Annabeth, currently doing push-ups in perfect form.

"You'll see in a minute," Maven replies, his voice oddly dull.

When Arven enters with Provos, even he has a strange spring in his step. He doesn't bark out an order to run and approaches the class instead.

"Tirana," Instructor Arven murmurs.

A girl in a blue-striped suit, identical to mine, jumps to attention. She makes her way toward the center of the floor, waiting for something. She looks equal parts excited and terrified.

Arven turns, searching through us. For a second, his eyes linger on me but thankfully shift to Maven.

"Prince Maven, if you please." He gestures to where Tirana waits.

Maven nods and moves to stand beside her. Both of them tense, fingers twitching as they await whatever's coming.

Suddenly, the training floor moves around them, pushing clear walls up to form something. Again, Provos raises his arms, using his abilities to transform the training hall. As the structure takes shape, my heart hammers, realizing exactly what it is.

An arena.

Annabeth and Cal take Maven's place beside me. "They won't hurt each other," Cal explains. "Arven stops us before anyone can do real damage, and there are healers on hand."

"Comforting," I choke out, remembering my fight with my half-brother, Antaeus, last summer, in the Labyrinth.

In the center of the quickly forming arena, both Maven and Tirana prepare for their match. Maven's bracelet sparks, and fire blazes in his hands, streaking up his arms, while droplets of moisture leech from the air to swirl around Tirana in a ghostly display. Both of them look ready for battle.

The last two pieces lock together, completing the training arena and fencing in Maven and his opponent. Now they're separated from the rest of us by thick glass, trapped together in a miniature version of a battle arena.

"Who has the advantage?" Arven says, questioning the class. Every hand except mine shoots into the air. "Elane?"

The Haven girl juts her chin forward, speaking proudly. "Tirana has the advantage. She is older and more experienced." Elane says this like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maven's cheeks flush white, though he tries to hide it. "And water defeats fire."

"Very good." Arven shifts his eyes back to Maven, daring him to argue. But Maven holds his tongue, letting the growing fire speak for him. "Impress me."

They collide, spitting fire and rain in a duel of elements. Tirana uses her water like a shield and to Maven's fiery attacks, it's impenetrable. Every time he gets close to her, swinging flaming fists, he comes back with nothing but steam. The battle looks even, but somehow Maven seems to have the edge. He's on offensive, backing her into a wall.

All around us, the class cheers, goading on the warriors.

"It's a trap, Mavey," Cal whispers, more to himself than anyone.