THADDEUS POV
Night blanketed the camp, and the bonfire at Greek Row blazed high, illuminating the faces of kids from every cabin. The air buzzed with celebration—laughter, music, and the occasional clink of goblets filled the space. It was like some ancient warrior feast crossed with a frat party, complete with centaurs and satyrs mingling with demi-gods. The scent of roasted wild boar hung thick in the air as it cooked over a massive spit, the juices dripping into the flames.
I was nursing my goblet of ambrosia when I spotted Percy and Grover weaving through the crowd toward the drinks. Kids swarmed Percy, patting him on the back, and tossing him compliments. He looked completely out of his element, his "hero of the hour" status making him visibly uncomfortable.
Two girls from the Aphrodite cabin sauntered up to Percy, all smiles and effortless grace. Their charm was almost weaponized, like a heat-seeking missile aimed at the poor guy.
One of them purred, "I love a man who can handle a sword."
Before Percy could even form a response, the second girl leaned in and kissed his cheek, quickly followed by the first. They giggled as they turned to leave, tossing flirtatious looks over their shoulders.
I couldn't help but smirk. "I'm counting down, Grover. He's not gonna last long here."
Grover, who had just about turned into a puddle watching the interaction, clutched his goblet like it was holding him upright. "Bro got that for free! For free!"
Before Percy could fully recover, Annabeth appeared out of the crowd, her expression as cool and composed as ever. She tilted her head at him. "Feeling like a hero yet?"
Percy scratched the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "More like a mutant. I'm not gonna grow a fish tail or gills or something, right?"
I chimed in before Annabeth could retort. "Hate to break it to you, Percy, but you're no Aquaman. Although..." I glanced dramatically toward the lake. "If you start talking to fish, give me a heads-up."
Annabeth smirked, filling a goblet with glowing golden ambrosia. "Although," she added, handing Percy the drink, "a huge ego isn't out of the question."
Percy gave a small laugh, though I could tell he was still processing everything that had happened. I grabbed a plate of food, watching the interaction like I was front-row at a drama I didn't ask to be part of, but was certainly entertained by.
"You know," Percy began, his voice steadying as he addressed Annabeth, "you almost killed me out there. I could've died... if I was normal. But you knew something, didn't you?"
Annabeth looked at him over the rim of her goblet, her expression unreadable. "Yeah. I always knew."
I cut in from the sidelines, food in hand. "As I said before, Percy, keeping a good keen eye on people is always a wise move. You'll thank me later."
Percy turned back to Annabeth, his brow furrowing slightly. "How?"
She handed him the goblet of ambrosia, her gaze sharp and calculating, yet there was something softer in her tone. "Let's just say I've been around enough to recognize greatness when I see it."
For a second, Percy seemed caught off guard, as if the weight of her words hadn't fully landed yet. Meanwhile, I stuffed a piece of roasted boar into my mouth, thinking, "Yeah, she just called you special, Jackson. Don't mess this up."
The celebration around us carried on, but at that moment, it felt like a quieter story was unfolding between the two of them. One that might not have been loud or obvious, but was certainly there, simmering under the surface.
Annabeth smirked, swirling her goblet of Ambrosia like it was the most casual thing in the world. "You drank Ambrosia, Percy. There's a reason it's called the food of the gods. If a pure mortal drank it, they'd die. Boiled blood, bones turned to dust—the works. But somehow, not only did you survive, you're still standing. Makes me curious about your friend too." She glanced at me with that sharp, calculating look that said she was already dissecting my existence.
I groaned dramatically and rolled my eyes. "Oh, no, we're not going there. Let's just keep my parentage out of the conversation, alright? Ignorance is bliss. No godly drama, no extra problems. Works for me."
She tilted her head, nodding slightly as if my answer fascinated her. Percy, meanwhile, looked bewildered.
"But you didn't know that when you gave me Ambrosia," Percy accused.
Annabeth raised a brow, her smirk widening. "Women's intuition."
Percy blinked. "Intuition? You mean you bet my life on intuition?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Honestly, Perce? Same. I'd probably do it too if I were in her place."
Annabeth shrugged, taking a deliberate sip of her drink. Her cool confidence was almost unnerving. Percy, however, wasn't letting it slide. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning forward slightly. "I get the feeling you don't like me very much."
Annabeth tilted her head again, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "It's possible. Our parents do hate each other, after all."
I let out a sarcastic gasp. "Wow, groundbreaking revelation. Parents hating each other—shocking! Remind me to double down on my Greek mythology studies because I totally didn't see that coming."
Percy, however, looked genuinely surprised. "Wait, they do? Like, hate hate?"
Annabeth nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, definitely. And, for the record, I absolutely have strong feelings about you too. I just haven't decided yet if they're positive or negative."
I raised a hand as if to mediate. "Can we just roll with the positive choice? It'll make everything simpler."
Annabeth shot me a quick grin. "Where's the fun in that?"
I shrugged. "Fair point."
Percy, unfazed, leaned back with a tired sigh. "Alright, well, just let me know when you figure it out."
Her smirk returned as she raised her goblet in a mock toast. "You'll be the first to know, Jackson."
Watching the exchange, I chuckled quietly to myself. Annabeth's sharp wit and Percy's flustered determination were like watching two currents clash in the same stream. It was hard to tell who'd win—or if either of them even wanted to.
Annabeth's smile faded as her attention shifted sharply toward the distance. Her eyes locked on something far off. I followed her gaze, seeing what caught her attention—three pairs of glowing, menacing red dots cutting through the night like embers in the dark.
"No..." Annabeth's voice was soft, "That can't be possible..."
I raised an eyebrow, already on edge. "Is this the part where we roast marshmallows or…?"
Percy, clueless as ever, turned to look where Annabeth and I were staring. The red eyes drew closer, slinking through the shadows. The uneasy quiet of the camp turned sharp and brittle.
"What's up?" Percy asked, obliviously leaning forward.
Annabeth's head snapped toward the crowd of campers, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "HELLHOUNDS!"
Before the word even fully left her mouth, I was already throwing off anything else weighing me down. This was no time to hesitate.
The bonfire celebration immediately dissolved into chaos. Kids screamed and scattered like ants, dropping mugs and plates as they bolted for safety. The trio of red eyes grew brighter and more ominous as their owners emerged—three massive hellhounds, demonic beasts the size of buffalo with molten-red eyes and dagger-like fangs.
Grover skidded to a stop beside me, panic clear in his face. "How did they get in!?"
I was already summoning my magic, a mix of cold fury and adrenaline fueling me. "Pretty sure that's not normal around here," I retorted, letting loose a volley of ice bolts aimed at the lead hound. The hound darted to the side, snarling as the ice exploded harmlessly against the ground. "Damn it!"
Annabeth was scanning the area, calculating, her sword already drawn. "The camp's under a veil of protection against underworld forces," she said through clenched teeth, the disbelief in her tone impossible to miss. "Someone must've lifted it..."
That got my attention. I turned sharply toward her, still firing spells to keep the hounds at bay. "Lifted it? Annabeth, that's not something you just drop casually! What if they were summoned?!"
The beasts closed in fast, too fast. They spread out, circling us like wolves ready to strike. One lunged for a group of fleeing campers, and I fired off another ice bolt—this time hitting it square in the chest. The hound snarled and slid back but was far from finished.
Chiron galloped into view, a picture of calm urgency. His voice boomed over the chaos. "Form ranks! Protect the younger ones! Everyone else, to arms!"
He barreled past Percy, shoving him aside just as one of the hellhounds lunged toward him. The beast collided with Chiron's shield, sparks flying from the impact.
Grover grabbed Percy's arm, yanking him back toward cover. "This is bad, man. Really bad!"
I stayed where I was, stepping forward to face the nearest hound. My breath came slow and steady as my hands flared with a mix of icy blue and searing orange light. "You want bad? Let me show you bad," I muttered, launching a fiery blast at the creature's paws.
The flames caught it mid-step, forcing it to stumble back, but its brothers flanked me before I could celebrate. My instincts screamed, and I spun to block with a wall of ice. The second hound slammed into it, howling as shards exploded everywhere.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Percy clutching his sword, his knuckles white as he hesitated. "Percy! Stop standing around like a statue and DO something!" I yelled, shoving one of the hounds back with a burst of icy air.
He seemed to snap out of it, gripping his blade tightly. Annabeth darted in front of him, her voice sharp. "Stay close! We need to work together!"
The hounds roared, the night thick with heat and chaos. My pulse pounded in my ears, but there was no room for doubt now. I raised my hands again, the fire and ice swirling together in a volatile storm of magic. "Come on, you overgrown mutts. Let's dance."
Chiron shouted, his tone commanding, "Grover! Get Percy out of here! Thaddeus, you too!"
I planted my feet, refusing to budge. "Not a chance, Chiron. You're gonna need all the firepower you can get!" With that, I conjured flames in my palms and hurled them at the nearest hellhound. The fiery blasts exploded on impact, creating small but effective shockwaves that made the beast hesitate.
Chiron didn't argue. He flicked his pen, transforming it into a shimmering, celestial bronze sword. Around us, the camp mobilized into action. Kids armed themselves with bows, swords, and spears, forming a ragtag defensive line. Yet, despite the preparation, the sight of Percy still rooted to the spot made my stomach churn. He looked like he was caught between running and fighting, torn by fear and adrenaline.
"Percy, no!" Grover's panicked shout brought no reaction.
I joined in, snapping at him, "Too dangerous, my guy! You're not ready for this!"
The hellhounds, relentless and vicious, tore through the defenses. One kid was dragged screaming into the shadows, his sword clattering to the ground. I shot a wall of ice toward the beast, freezing its legs and forcing it to release the camper. But as I celebrated the fleeting victory, another hound lunged at a group of kids, mauling one before they could defend themselves. My hands flared with another ice blast, trying to create space, but it was pure chaos.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Annabeth firing arrows in rapid succession, her movements precise and calculated. A dozen arrows struck one of the creatures, but the beast shook them off like they were mere splinters.
The hellhounds moved with purpose now, their glowing eyes scanning the battlefield. My chest tightened as I realized their focus: Percy.
"Of course," I muttered under my breath, piecing it together. "But what's the endgame here?"
As if they could sense my thoughts, the three hellhounds turned their full attention to Percy and began their charge. Before they could reach him, Chiron galloped into their path, his sword flashing. With a mighty leap, he impaled the lead hound through its chest. The creature collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
I sprinted toward Percy, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him out of harm's way. "We gotta move, Percy! You're a sitting target out here!"
But before I could drag him far, another trio of hellhounds burst through the line, scattering the defenders like leaves in the wind. One of them barreled straight toward us. I acted on instinct, firing a concentrated blast of ice at its legs. The spell froze the creature mid-step, causing it to trip and slide. Chiron, seizing the moment, hurled his sword like a javelin. The blade pierced the beast's skull with pinpoint accuracy, dropping it instantly.
My breath came in ragged gasps as I turned to Percy. His face was pale, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and disbelief. "This isn't a game, Percy. You need to move and stay safe! Now!"
Behind us, the snarls and growls of the remaining hellhounds filled the air. Around the camp, shouts and cries echoed as the defenders held their ground. But for how long? I didn't have time to think about it. Another beast was already zeroing in on us.
"Let's go!" I barked, shoving Percy toward Grover, who was frantically waving him over to a safer position. The battle was far from over, and if I had to keep throwing everything I had to make sure we survived, then so be it.
Annabeth screams, "Chiron! Watch out--" but it's too late. The last hellhound slams into Chiron, its claws ripping into him. My instincts kick in, and I move to help, but the mutt redirects its fury at me. Its jaws clamp down on my hand. Pain explodes through me, but I grit my teeth and retaliate with fire, my other hand igniting in a blazing burst. The flames scorch the beast's face, forcing it to let go, but in the process, my own hand takes the brunt of the heat. The searing pain barely registers—I've dealt with worse.
I scream through gritted teeth, "C'mon, you bloody mutt! Burn already!"
The hellhound snarls, momentarily blinded, but something draws its attention away. With a snarl, it pivots and charges off toward the commotion.
I collapse to my knees, clutching my injured hand, the sting of both the bite and burn throbbing through my body. Grover rushes to my side, his face pale but determined.
"I've got you, man! Hold on," Grover says, trying to steady me as I waver.
I glance up just in time to see Percy—Percy!—charging straight at the beast. "P-Percy!" I rasp, the panic surging through me like a second wave of pain. "Don't!"
But it's too late. Percy barrels forward like he's got nothing to lose, and for a split second, I think we're going to have to explain to Chiron why Poseidon's kid got flattened. Instead, at the last possible moment, Percy drops low and slides under the beast, raising his sword in a single fluid motion.
The blade slices through the hellhound's underside, a clean and precise cut that leaves the creature howling in agony. Its massive body crashes to the ground, blood pooling beneath it. Percy staggers to his feet, standing over the dying beast with an expression that's somewhere between disbelief and resolve.
Grover and Annabeth help me to my feet, and the three of us make our way to Percy. The hellhound, barely clinging to life, lifts its head weakly and looks at him. Its voice, guttural and demonic, seeps into the air like a toxic mist.
"Where... is the bolt?"
Percy stiffens but doesn't flinch. "I don't have it. I'm not the thief."
I step forward, my injured hand hanging limp at my side, and added firmly, "And he's telling the truth. He's clean. You're barking up the wrong tree."
The hellhound glares at Percy, its lava-red eyes dimming with each second. "Liar... If you want your mother back... bring Hades the bolt..."
I tried to interject, "Percy, don't listen to—" but Percy's grief and anger erupted before I could finish.
"My mother's dead," Percy snapped, his voice raw, trembling with emotion.
The Hellhound, its final breaths rattling deep within its chest, responded with deliberate, chilling words. "No... She is still alive... abducted by Hades... Bring him the lightning bolt... in exchange for your mother..."
With those final, venomous words, the beast exhaled a shallow breath and stilled completely. Its massive form dissolved into shadowy embers, leaving no trace.
The silence is deafening. Even the wind seems to hold its breath.
"What the hell was that about?" I mutter, shaking my head and wincing at the sharp sting in my hand.
Grover looks between Percy and the fading remnants of the beast, his expression grim. "This isn't good. If Hades is sending hellhounds to deliver messages..."
Annabeth finishes his thought, her voice cold, "It means he's getting impatient. And desperate."
Percy, still staring at the spot where the hellhound fell, clenches his fists. "He can say whatever he wants. I'm not the thief. And I'm getting my mom back."
Percy turned to us, his face pale and his jaw clenched. His eyes met mine.
"Shit, Thad, are you okay?" he asked, his gaze dropping to my burned and bloodied arm.
I flexed my hand experimentally, wincing at the sting but keeping my tone light. "I'll be fine. Seen worse, believe it or not." Then, a thought struck me. "Wait—Chiron!"
The four of us turned in unison to see Chiron lying motionless on the ground, his flank badly wounded and blood pooling beneath him. The sight sent a jolt of alarm through my chest.
Percy darted toward Chiron without hesitation. "Chiron!" he called, his voice thick with panic.
Annabeth moved swiftly, already taking charge. "Grover, get Thad to the infirmary! I'll help Chiron."
Grover nodded and hurried to my side. He slid his arm around my waist, steadying me despite my protests.
"C'mon, buddy," Grover said, his voice a mix of concern and forced cheer. "That's enough heroing for one evening."
I mustered a weak grin, trying to keep things light despite the pain that lanced through my arm with every movement. "Tell me about it," I muttered, hissing as the sting made itself known.
As Grover half-carried me away, I glanced back to see Annabeth crouched beside Chiron. Percy knelt on Chiron's other side, his expression a storm of guilt.
---
After a quick and almost unsettlingly efficient patch-up job—thanks to some mysterious herbal concoction I didn't dare question—I was cleared to leave the infirmary. My arm was wrapped tight in a strap, and although it still throbbed like hell, I was good to go. It felt surreal; not an hour ago, I'd been a chew toy for a three-eyed, flaming hellhound, and now here I was, walking upright. Either camp medicine was borderline magic, or I was tougher than I gave myself credit for. Probably the first option.
Grover helped me navigate to Chiron's personal stable. The place was filled with dusty tomes, gleaming weapons, and strange alchemical contraptions that looked one accident away from blowing up. For a moment, I forgot the chaos from earlier. If I survived this quest—or whatever this madness was shaping up to be—Chiron and I were going to have some pretty interesting conversations.
Chiron sat in the center of the room, his flank bandaged as Annabeth worked on his leg wound with a precision that screamed daughter of Athena. Percy leaned against a post nearby, his head somewhere in the clouds again. He fiddled with his pen-turned-sword—click, flick, click—like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.
When Chiron noticed me hobbling in with Grover's support, he straightened slightly, "How's the arm, Thaddeus?"
I shrugged, letting out a half-chuckle. "It'll heal in due time. Not great for now, but it'll hold. Temporary fixes seem to be the theme of the night."
Chiron gave me a knowing nod, and Percy turned, his gaze shifting from the pen-sword to me. "You good?" he asked, his tone quieter than usual.
I gave him a lopsided grin. "If it was serious, Percy, you'd only hear about it at my funeral." Grover snorted, shaking his head as he helped me sit down on a stool.
Chiron shifted his attention back to Percy, who resumed flicking his pen. "That sword," Chiron began, his tone measured, "has a name."
Percy squinted at the inscription. "Anaklusmos," he said, sounding out the ancient Greek letters.
"In English, it means Riptide," Chiron clarified. "I want you to keep it."
Percy blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"You'll need it more than I do. It's made of Celestial Bronze—deadly to creatures of the underworld, but harmless to mortals. A weapon worthy of the son of Poseidon."
I leaned back, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Man, the guy slays a hellhound and suddenly he's getting gifts left and right. Cool sword, cool name... some guys have all the luck."
Percy glanced at me with a half-smile but didn't bite back. He was still distracted. I coughed lightly to bring the room's focus back to the bigger picture. "Alright, now that we've got the whole gift exchange sorted out, can we finally address the elephant in the room? You know, the one that's got flames and a very unhealthy interest in Percy?"
The humor faded from everyone's faces. Annabeth finished tying the last knot on Chiron's bandage, her sharp grey eyes locking onto Percy like she was waiting for him to crack. Chiron exhaled heavily. Percy stood straighter, gripping the sword in his hand as if it were a lifeline.
"Yes," Chiron said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "We need to talk about Hades."
Annabeth folded her arms, her sharp gaze bouncing between us. "How did they even get into camp?"
Grover's shoulders sagged as he rubbed his horns nervously. "Hades has never pulled something like this before. Not directly."
Chiron sighed, his expression darkening. "With Olympus in turmoil, he's bound to grow bolder. And as long as he believes Percy has the bolt, he'll stop at nothing to get it back."
I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. "Why don't we just hand him a jumbo battery or something and tell him it's a special edition of his lightning rod?" The sky growled ominously in response, thunder rumbling through the air. "Alright, alright, sorry—kinda."
Percy, still clutching Riptide, stepped forward, his face pale but determined. "Chiron... The hellhound spoke to me. It said..." He faltered, swallowing hard. "It said my mom is alive."
Chiron's head snapped toward Percy, his eyes widening. "What?"
Percy's voice was steadier now. "It said she was taken... by Hades. Is that possible?"
Chiron hesitated before nodding grimly. "Hades is known for abducting the living when it suits him. Look at Persephone. She wasn't dead when she became his wife."
I cocked my head, thinking out loud. "Yeah, that guy. The original emo of Olympus, couldn't get a date, so he decided to kidnap the hottest girl around. Bursts out of the ground like some nightmare carnival attraction and drags her screaming into the Underworld. Real charmer."
Annabeth groaned, burying her face in her hands, while Grover let out a stifled snort of laughter.
Percy didn't even crack a smile. "The hellhound said I could get her back... if I bring him the bolt."
Chiron's eyes darkened further as he leaned forward. "But, Percy, you don't have the bolt. And even if you did, handing it to Hades would only make matters worse. Giving him that kind of power..." He trailed off.
I interjected, trying to keep things grounded. "So, no bolt, no leverage. And Hades has his twisted little ransom scheme going. The question is... what's our next move?"
Everyone fell silent for a moment, the crackling of the fire in Chiron's stable the only sound.
The room hung heavy with silence. I shifted uncomfortably before cutting through the tension. "Look, you don't even need to beat yourself up about this, Perce. My theory? The real thief has gotta be someone who knows their greek myths like the back of their hand."
Percy glanced at me, his face shadowed with frustration. "Thad, I get it, except Chiron said I could convince Zeus that I'm not the thief. So why can't I just do the same with Hades? If he realizes I don't have the bolt, won't he give me my mom back?"
Chiron shook his head, his voice calm but firm. "It's not that simple, Percy."
"Why not?" Percy demanded, desperation bleeding into his tone.
Chiron straightened, his expression grave. "Zeus and Hades are fundamentally different. Zeus can be stubborn, nonetheless he is honorable. Fair, even."
I decided to lighten the mood—or try to, anyway. "And Hades? He's a whole other can of worms. Think of him like this: a moody goth kid who grew up to be the ultimate grump with a god complex. The guy could teach Lucifer—yes, that Lucifer—a thing or two about brooding and bad PR. If he finds out you're not the lightning thief, do you really think he'll let it slide? He'll probably throw in a plague of locusts, a worldwide financial meltdown, and a terrible hair day for you and your mom. So... you know..." I gave a half-shrug.
The words hung in the air. Percy's shoulders sagged as he stared at the floor, his face a storm of frustration, helplessness, and quiet devastation.
Damn. I overdid it. Stupid, stupid Thaddeus.
"So... what can I do?" Percy's voice cracked just slightly.
Chiron stood, his wound bandaged but his presence steady as ever. He placed a firm hand on Percy's shoulder, meeting his gaze with a sincerity that seemed to steady the room. "We stick with the plan. Tomorrow, we go to Olympus. Once you've proven your innocence to Zeus, I give you my word, we will do everything in our power to bring your mother back."
I wanted to protest—Zeus? Reasonable? That guy would throw a thunderstorm if someone so much as sneezed near his throne. But I kept my mouth shut for once. Instead, I locked eyes with Grover and Annabeth, who looked just as conflicted as I felt.
Percy, though, just stared at Chiron, his face twisted in disappointment and frustration. The dude was already carrying the weight of the world—and now, his mother's life hung in the balance.
I walked over to him, giving him a light slap on the shoulder and a crooked smile. "Hey. We'll get her back, Percy. I promise."
---
I stood outside the Temple of Poseidon, leaning against the weathered wall, the straps of my fully packed bag digging lightly into my shoulder. The early morning air was crisp, and the camp was unusually quiet. I had a hunch—no, a certainty—that Percy was about to do something reckless. In the time I'd known him, I'd learned that 70% of his decisions were impulsive, and my gut SPECIFICALLY TOLD ME that he'd be sneaking out to save his mom.
The door creaked open, and sure enough, Percy poked his head out, looking as guilty as a kid caught sneaking cookies.
I smirked. "If you're about to do what I think you're gonna do, you're better off dying with a friend by your side."
He jumped slightly, his backpack slipping off one shoulder. "What the hell? The coast is not clear. What are you doing here?"
"Not letting my idiot friend go on a solo suicide mission. If you're running off to play hero, I'm coming with you."
Percy groaned, hoisting his bag back up. "Fine."
He stepped out fully, and we started down the path. We didn't get far before a voice called out, stopping us dead in our tracks.
"Going somewhere?"
Grover. Of course. I turned to see him perched on the roof, casually chewing on some bushy plant, his satyr legs dangling like this was all part of his morning routine. Before either of us could respond, Grover dropped down in front of us, blocking our path.
Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Uh... out for a walk."
I added with a shrug, "Yeah, you know, clear the mind, see the sights. Maybe a picnic. Real wholesome stuff."
Grover crossed his arms, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, another voice cut in.
"One small victory and you think you're ready to take on the world?"
Annabeth stepped out from behind the fountain, her arms crossed, her posture practically radiating judgment. Great. Just what we needed. She stared at Percy with that sharp, no-nonsense gaze that only she could pull off.
I sighed, nudging Percy forward. "Well... this one's all you, champ." I gave him a small push. "Consider this practice for convincing the gods."
Percy shot me a glare that screamed traitor. I folded my arms, leaning back slightly with a smug grin. Annabeth's attention was all his now, and I wasn't about to get in the middle of that. If there was one thing I knew, it was when to pick my battles—and this one? Oh, it was all his.
Percy, with fiery determination in his voice, declared, "Look... I just found out my mom is still alive. She's the most important thing in my life. And I'm going to get her back."
Annabeth folded her arms, arching a skeptical eyebrow. "You're going to march all the way to Hades and fight the Lord of the Underworld?"
Before Percy could respond, I stepped in with a calm shrug. "If it's for her, yeah, he will."
Percy nodded, doubling down. "Yeah. If I have to."
Annabeth let out a laugh laced with disbelief. "Do you even know how to get there?"
Percy, without missing a beat, retorted, "If I had to guess, I'd say: down."
I chimed in with a mock-serious tone. "Oh, genius deduction, Sherlock. Maybe if someone lends us a map, we'll make great time."
Grover stepped forward, looking flustered. "I can't let you both do this."
I raised a hand dismissively. "Wasn't asking." Then quickly added under my breath, "Meep."
Grover clarified, "I mean, I can't let you guys go alone. I'm Percy's protector. That's my job. I'm going with you."
I tilted my head with a smirk. "So, legally bound to this madness, huh?" Grover nodded solemnly.
Percy waved him off. "I don't need any more help than Thad. He's desperate enough to keep me alive just so I can keep him from dying."
Annabeth stepped in, her tone commanding. "We weren't asking for permission."
Percy turned to her, startled. "You too? Earlier today, you wanted to kill me. Now you're volunteering to risk your life to help me?"
Annabeth straightened, "My mom always looks out for heroes. It's in my blood. So if we're going to succeed, we'll require more than mere charisma, a gilded contraption, and an amateur half-baked magician..." she gestured to me with a smirk, "...and a set of smelly hooves."
She turned to Grover, adding, "No offense."
I raised a hand with mock offense. "I'll just... take that as a compliment."
Grover, folding his arms, deadpanned, "Offense taken."
Annabeth gave Percy a sharp look. "So, whether you welcome it or not, you have my company. And for your information, 'ice cubes and matchsticks' over here isn't enough backup."
I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Hey now, I'm doing my best."
Percy glanced at the three of us, our bickering more chaotic than any monster he'd faced yet. He sighed deeply, his shoulders dropping as if he'd already lost the argument.
"Fine," Percy said, his voice heavy with resignation. He paused, scanning us with a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance. "How do we get there?"
I grinned, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. "Easy peasy. Step one:What the hell are we gonna do?Step two:Avoid getting roasted, drowned, or turned into stone. " Annabeth rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a small smirk. Grover groaned, already regretting every decision that led him here. And just like that, our ragtag crew of chaos and questionable decision-making officially hit the road—or so we thought.
---
Before any grand exit, we needed information. Enter Luke, the unofficial supplier of "Stuff you probably shouldn't have but desperately need and things you may or never really wanna know." When we arrived at the Hermes cabin, Luke was mid-rage in a Call of Duty team deathmatch, his headset slightly wonky and his voice echoing through the cabin.
"HOW is it so hard to cover the flank!? That's the WHOLE POINT of the—ugh, forget it." He ripped off his headset and hurled the controller across the room. Without thinking, I caught it mid-air, holding it up with a smirk.
"Need a sub, champ?" I teased. He glared but smirked in return.
The Hermes cabin was as chaotic as you'd expect: trick mirrors that warped your reflection into a circus of fun, random clown props strewn across shelves, and even an ancient fortune-telling machine in the corner. It felt like stepping into a magical thrift store run by a very mischievous god. Luke motioned for us to sit across from him, grabbing half of a sandwich from a nearby table.
"Right, from the look of you four, I know exactly what's going on in your heads. So... what makes you think I'd know anything about the Underworld?" Luke asked, talking around a mouthful of sandwiches like the epitome of casual rebellion.
Annabeth leaned forward, her tone sharp. "Your father's the Messenger of the Gods. He's been to the Underworld several times more than anyone I am familiar with. Surely, he's told you something worthwhile."
Luke snorted, rolling his eyes. "My dad's a prick. Never met him, and if he's told me anything, it's been through second-hand rejection letters."
I raised my hand. "You know, on second thought, I'll just... stay out of this one. Sounds like therapy might be overdue."
Percy, ever blunt, cut in. "Then we have a lot in common."
Luke gave him a sharp, devilish grin. "Yeah? Well, misery loves company. Guess we're besties now."
Despite his sarcasm, there was a flicker of something genuine—like he saw a bit of himself in Percy. That moment didn't last long, though, as Luke's mischievous side took over.
"Buuuuuuuut..." Luke said, hopping to his feet, "I have broken into my dad's house a couple of times. You know, for fun."
We all stared at him, and Luke smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. He climbed a ladder to retrieve a shoebox from the top shelf, tossing it to Percy. Percy opened it to reveal a pair of sleek sneakers adorned with tiny golden wings.
"Flying shoes?" Percy asked, holding them up like they might bite him.
Luke nodded. "Hermes originals. They'll make you fast, light, and a little less likely to get squashed by something twice your size. Just, uh, don't ask where they've been. Long story."
As Percy inspected the sneakers, Luke moved to a hidden compartment. He pressed a barely noticeable button on a nearby column, and a small section slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a shimmering blue and gold staff. He grabbed it and handed it to me.
I turned it over in my hands, unimpressed at first glance. "This is a stick." I paused, deadpan. "Okay, I get the joke. I'm the staff guy now. Funny. Moving on."
Luke smirked. "It's more than a stick, genius. That orb on top? Focus your magic through it. Amplifies the output, helps with precision. Oh, and—try not to blow yourself up, yeah?"
I raised an eyebrow, giving it another look. The orb was smooth and milky white, glowing faintly like it had secrets it wasn't ready to share. The staff itself felt lighter than it looked, the gold lacework whirling up its length like a river of molten metal.
"Alright, fine," I said, a little impressed despite myself. "Guess I'll try not to vaporize anyone by accident. No promises, though."
With Percy cradling the flying sneakers like they were made of gold, me testing out my new "definitely-not-a-death-stick-quite-possibly," and Luke leaning against the wall looking far too pleased with himself.
Luke smirked, holding his hands out dramatically. "My gift to you both." Then he turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "So, Thad? You wanna give it a shot?"
I shrugged, spinning the staff experimentally in my hands. "Sure, why not? What's the worst that could happen?"
Five seconds later, I accidentally set part of the ceiling on fire. In my defense, it was a small fire. I quickly extinguished it with a blast of ice magic, leaving the charred spot dripping with water. The other Hermes kids groaned, scrambling to dodge the water dripping from above, and I held my hands up apologetically. "Right... That's gonna take some practice. My bad, y'all."
Annabeth, ever the peanut gallery, smirked. "I would appreciate it if you refrained from unintentionally burning us or unleashing a surprising glacial period during this...quest, Ice Cube."
I gave her a dry look. "Ha. Ha. Hilarious. Truly, your wit knows no bounds."
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. He turned back to Percy, gesturing to the box. "Alright, Percy. Look underneath the shoes."
Percy set the winged sneakers aside, revealing a folded, yellowed piece of parchment hidden beneath them. He opened it carefully, and we all leaned in. It was a tattered map of the United States, worn and faded with age.
Luke pointed to the map. A spot in New Jersey began to glow faintly, and an address appeared next to it in glowing green script.
"People have gone to the Underworld without being dead before," Luke explained. "Hercules did. Orpheus too. Getting in? That's the easy part. The hard part is getting out alive."
He tapped the map, and three more glowing marks appeared in different locations across the map, forming a rough triangle.
"This will lead you to the locations of the three green pearls," Luke added.
Percy tilted his head, confused. "Green pearls?"
I crossed my arms. "Never heard of them. What are they?"
Luke's smirk widened. "Glad you asked, Thad. The map Percy's holding is a copy of one that belongs to Hades' wife, Persephone. She keeps the green pearls hidden for her... let's say special guests to use while Hades is away."
Grover made a face. "Special guests? Ew."
Luke nodded knowingly. "The pearls are an escape route—one-time-use, instant exit. They'll get you out of the Underworld in a pinch. You're gonna need all three to make sure you don't get trapped down there."
I raised a brow. "So, quick in-and-out, huh? Persephone's lovers must've been Olympic-level sprinters."
Grover groaned, making an exaggerated "come on" gesture, while Annabeth rolled her eyes, muttering something about childish humor. But Percy? He just focused on the map, his jaw tightening with determination.
"Three pearls," Percy said, half to himself. "And then we get out of there."
Annabeth tilted her head, intrigued. "How do the pearls work?"
Luke explained, leaning casually against a desk. "Simple. You put a drop of your blood on the pearl, then smash it. Close your eyes, focus on where you want to go, and... boom. The pearl will take you there."
Percy frowned, staring at the map as if willing for a better answer to pop out. "Wait a second... There are three pearls, but there are four of us."
I shrugged, ever the voice of questionable optimism. "Guess we'll cross that bridge—or river Styx—when we get there. Or, you know... fight about it like the dysfunctional team we are."
Luke nodded. "That's the plan. Don't lose that map. And don't forget—Hades plays dirty. If you're not prepared for some serious underhanded moves, you're not coming back."
Luke then reached over to a shelf and pulled down one final item. It was an engraved bronze shield with a gleaming golden handle. He held it out to Percy.
"Take this," Luke said.
Percy blinked, caught off guard. "Your shield?"
Luke gave a slight smirk. "Yeah. For protection. Trust me, you're gonna need it."
For a moment, Percy looked genuinely touched. "Thanks, Luke."
I nudged Percy's shoulder. "Don't let it go to your head, Jackson. I mean, if the first hellhound couldn't kill you, maybe this will up your odds."
Grover gave me a look. "You're terrible at pep talks."
Percy stood to leave, the shield resting heavily on his arm, but before he could step out, Luke called out from behind him.
"Percy."
He stopped and turned, his eyebrows raised in question. "Yeah?"
Luke hesitated for a moment, his usual cocky smirk softening into something more serious. "If you run into my father along the way..." His voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.
Percy gave him a small, confident nod. "Kick his ass for you?"
Luke cracked a smile. "Yeah."
I chimed in, raising my hand like I was volunteering for extra credit. "Don't worry, I'll do my part too. Assuming I don't die in the first five seconds of trying."
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "Just don't get yourselves killed, alright? That's all I'm asking."
With that, we left the Hermes cabin, stepping out into the cool night air. The stars above seemed impossibly distant, I had to admit... we might just stand a chance. Maybe... we don't... lol...