Silver Water (Percy Jackson and Red Queen crossover)

My "Half-Brother" Accuses Me Of Treason (Ya Know, Just The Usual)

Percy's POV:

When morning comes the next day, a series of shuffles and slams makes me bolt awake, sitting up in my bed. I expect to see a monster, Ethan Nakamura, or even Kronos himself, but it's just my butlers bustling in my closet. They look more harried than usual and pull down my clothes with abandon.

"What's going on?"

In the closet, the men freeze. They bow, hands full of cotton and linen. As I come closer, I realize they're standing over a set of leather trunks. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Orders, my lord," one says, his eyes lowered. "We only know what we're told."

"Of course. Well, I'm just going to get dressed then." I reach for the nearest outfit, intending to do something for myself for once, but the butlers beat me to it.

Five minutes later, they have me painted and ready, dressed in another one of those stiff suits. I'd much prefer my training suit over everything else, but it's apparently not "proper" to wear the thing outside of sessions. If you ask me, this rule is stupid, so is the whole house color dress code thing, but since when has my opinion ever mattered? Anyways, once my butlers were finished, I was ready to be shoved out into the world of flesh-eating piranhas. Sorry, I meant highly educated and privileged Silvers.

"Lucas?" I ask the empty hallway, half expecting him to pop out from an alcove.

But Lucas is nowhere to be found, so I head off to Protocol, expecting him to cross my path. When he doesn't, a trill of fear ripples through me, Lucas was one of the few people I liked in this crystal prison. Did something happen to him?

My thoughts are interrupted when the supreme lord of annoying fake half-brothers in the flesh steps into my path, his lips quirked into an amused smile. Oh gods, what now?

"You're up early." Then he leans in, speaking in a low whisper. "Especially for having such a late night."

"I don't know what you mean." I try for an innocent tone. Annabeth and I spent hours in my room last night, processing the events that happened at the parting ball. However, I genuinely don't know if that's what Istvan's referring to.

"The prisoners are gone. All three of them, disappeared into thin air." Of course they are, and of course I'm the one who gets blamed for it.

I put a hand to my heart, letting myself look shocked for the cameras. "By my colors! A few Reds escaped from us? That seems impossible."

"It does indeed." No, it most certainly does not. Though the amused and victorious smirk remains, his eyes darken slightly. "Of course, that brings everything into question. The power outages caused by fried circuits, the failing security systems, a troop of Sentinels with blank spots across their memories, not to mention the puddles of water on the dungeon floors." He stares pointedly at me.

I turn to face him, returning his sharp, accusatory glance. "There were power outages?" Istvan nods. "Huh. Remind me again why you think I had anything to do with this. Because last I checked, controlling electricity is not my ability."

"I believe I mentioned that there were puddles of water on the dungeon floors."

"Yes, I heard you the first time. But that still doesn't mean I had anything to do with helping the prisoners escape," I say, still not seeing the logic behind his accusation. "It could've been a leak in the pipes."

"Well, brother, correct me if I'm wrong, but controlling water is your ability." Is he serious? Does he not realize how much of a hypocrite he's being right now?

"Yes, it is. But, need I remind you, brother, that controlling water is also your ability." Istvan stands there, gaping like a fish out of water, unsure of how to respond. "How do I know that you didn't help the prisoners escape and are simply blaming me as a cover story?"