Chapter Text
THALIA
New Rome is much more populated than the camp, Thalia thought, as they approached the city. She saw buildings ranging from three to four stories scattered around in the shape of a large puddle. Spots of red and white reminded her of buildings she had seen during their hunts in Chiapas, Mexico, rather than Rome. The city nestled right against the Little Tiber, its Roman-style forum and bustling colosseum standing out even from a distance, all situated next to the infamous field of Mars
The city looked almost dreary from the distance, as if it were a rotting wheel from a wagon that worked in mud for years.
“Why are the buildings so short?” Thalia found herself asking as she took her foot off the gas and coasted towards the bridge. The new campus van had more space than the previous one she had traveled in years ago. The drive from New York took nearly two weeks, slowed down by pit stops and monster stops. Thalia’s hamstrings felt sore, but she would do this ten times over if it meant avoiding Apollo’s high-speed driving and being two thousand meters off the ground
“Terminus may be the god of boundaries, but he has limitations regarding the height of them,” Artemis mutters, her back towards Thalia as her body is curled toward the passenger window. Thalia took no offense from her callous demeanor these past few weeks, as she knew the goddess felt irritated since the last Olympian meeting.
She can't even blame her. Coming back from months of scouting titans to then driving cross-country to join a battle against said titans within a few weeks, all because one god’s pride got the best of them, nearly had Thalia herself thinking to pull a Luke.
After she parked beside the bridge leading to the city, the rest of the hunters filed out of the car, exhausted from the long drive across the country. Thalia took the time to stretch and look around. The river was wide and stretched around the city. The mountains lacked the elevation to provide monsters with efficient cover, and the closest mortal city was a four-hour drive. A nice topography for a city, even better for a demigod one. She spotted a small crowd forming on the other side of the bridge. Thalia quickly glanced at Artemis, but the goddess’s stance did not indicate needing them to be on guard.
Why would she? This was their target after all.
The river under the bridge was rushing past aggressively along the southern border. It reminded Thalia of an animal trying to outrun them. The bridge wasn't much better. It looked too tired, almost concave on itself to prevent more feet from stepping on it. The stone was wearing thin, and the water flowing beneath it looked murky, a clear sign of a dying water nymph back at camp. The air itself felt stagnant despite the rushing water, giving a clear sign of wind. It smelled like a house that was trapped in a wet cave that held a moldy animal carcass.
Over the bridge, the crowd was quickly parting as two taller figures, a man and a woman around seven feet tall, made their way across the bridge towards them. From the corner of her eye, Artemis’ image was beginning to shift slowly. She grew taller, around eight feet, her clothes shifted to a purple tunic and scarlet toga reaching to her feet, and her bow was no longer over her shoulder. The goddess’s hair went from her tight braids woven close to her head to long black strands falling over the spotted deer pelt over her shoulders. She began walking slowly towards the bridge. Thalia and the hunters fell in step behind her
“Goddess Diana, New Rome is yours,” The male god said, bowing his head. The rest of the crowd followed, haggardly kneeling towards the goddess of nature, forests, and crossroads. Anyone who had a lick of Roman knowledge would recognize him as Janus, the two-faced god.
The face on his right side appears to be a man in his early twenties, standing in layers of light blue linen and a purple toga, relaxed in posture. His brown hair barely reached past his ears, curling around his smiling face, nearly covering the eyes that held a hint of a knowing spark. The face on the left was that of an older version of his frontal face in his sixties that gained more wrinkles around his eyes and lost the youthful fat under his skin. He still looked kind and reminded Thalia of Dionysus when his face changed to take on an older look when he was reminded of his late son Pollux, but Janus held no trace of personal grief on his face.
The goddess beside him nearly matched him in height, only a few inches behind, and she had a large wreath crown on her head that held small wild berries. She held a cornucopia in her hands that held a river of fruits and berries that reached down to her ankles, but her face held no resemblance to Katie’s mother, Demeter. She was wearing a green tunic with the same shade of toga as Janus and had a large grin on her face. The goddess waved her right arm, which held tons of gold jewelry.
“Diana! What a profound blessing to receive your presence beneath our skies once more! And you have brought your magnificent maidens just in time for the morning repast!” the unnamed goddess's voice booms full of delight towards them.
“Fortuna, Janus. I offer my greetings, though I deeply wish our convergence occurred under more auspicious circumstances,” Diana replies with a rueful smile as she makes her way over the bridge towards the city.
Thalia and the other hunters quickly fell in step behind her, all of them bowing their heads to the Roman gods as they approached them. Thalia was held in the middle section of the group, not as close to Diana to draw the eye, but not held too far to be seen as an insult to her father if anyone recognized her.
“The sentiment is shared, Lady Diana. Our city has been rebuilding since the last war. Bellona and Quirinus are still adjusting the battle plans with the Romans at the senate, having formally drafted the forces of the Amazons into our legions,” Janus confesses, turning his body to walk a few steps ahead on the right of Diana.
The older face spoke, “The Romans have dispatched our Augur alongside two choice legionnaires upon a quest dictated by the sacred eagle of Quirinus, seeking the lost son of Jupiter. A futile endeavor, it seems, now that the fates reveal Jason resides within the Greek camp. They will be returning soon.”
As Thalia reaches the end of the bridge and takes her first few steps on Roman soil, she is surprised to see a lot of older people in the crowd, women and men in armor, who look weary and too thin to be connected to their athletic ancestors in Italy.
Besides the river, everything moved slowly, as if their lives were grinding to a halt. But Thalia’s thoughts were still stuck on Janus’ words:
The god of the future and past didn’t know that Jason was with the Greeks?
Diana reiterated Thalia’s thoughts to Janus, “Yes, I did inform them, yet they insisted on dispatching the Augur regardless. They have been…remarkably resistant to external influence.” Janus replies quietly to Diana, low enough for the crowd not to have overheard it.
“Remind me, Janus, who was specifically sent?” Diana asks. As the gods move forward, the crowd quickly parts for them. Adults bowed their heads to them, but a few of the children in the crowd were staring at Diana in awe. Diana smiles warmly at them, causing the crown on her head to glow faintly. Thalia watches as many of the children with a glow begin to form around them, taking the shape of a cloak around them. A blessing Diana is always happy to bestow on behalf of her Greek counterpart.
“The augur, the daughter of Pluto, and a son of Mars”, Janus replies tiredly. Both of his faces were frowning, and his eyes reflected frustration at the Roman who were more mortal than gods
“A child of the Olympians? Truly?” Diana responds, surprised.
Sending a child of the big three is a reckless action bordering on suicide. Sending them to rescue another child of the big three, all while Gaia only needs two demigod bodies to fully awaken…Thalia can’t help but think:
These Romans are fucking idiots.
“The quest will be successful, but the Fates are not pleased.” The younger face says, moving to ruffle the hair of a passing young boy, smiling when the boy giggles.
Thalia tries to imagine one of them as Jason. A small boy with a scar on his lip from parental negligence. Thalia wonders if he ran around the city with no fear, laughing and chasing his friends around the fountains. She wonders if he ever threw a coin into the fountains. Not his coin, but a single drachma, wishing to see his sister again. Did he ever scrape his knee falling on the city's streets, the pebbles ingrained into the cement, giving the image of its old, ancestral architecture?
As they approached the Senate house, Thalia saw two more guards, both six feet tall and wearing lorica segmentata, plate armor, the first Latin word that Jason taught her. They kept shifting their weight out of exhaustion rather than nervousness at the presence of three Roman gods.
Thalia could tell by the look of the city that they wouldn't survive the battle in three months as they are now. People were too weak, and the children weren't running or excited but rather moving about sluggishly. She hoped that New Rome would look better on the inside, but it just seemed worse.
The architecture was a contradiction to itself, pristine columns in a cramped city as the buildings huddled together like a fearful pack. As she passed what she hoped to be a granary, she noticed that there were no sounds of machines running, just feet laboring synchronously with the sound of stone on stone, promoting an endless labor grind.
No signs of fruit trees in the city, no fruit bushes or herbs growing out of plants. Katie will hate it here for sure, but the smell would irritate them all. Thalia was growing agitated by the sticky air filled with aged stone, dust, and rot.
Was this really Jason’s home?
As they entered the Senate. Bellona stood tall and imposing, clad in full, battle-worn plate armor, a crimson cape hung from her shoulders, and a laurel crown on her head. The god beside her, Quirinus, looked like the embodiment of the Roman state. He wore a deep, royal purple toga draped over a pristine white tunic, a stark contrast to the near-mortal Romans in the city who wore dull, lifeless tunics that were more frays than linen. He had a straight posture that reminded her too much of her father, although he held his arrogance from his face.
Bellona and Quirinus both nodded to the goddess of the moon, “Diana, we welcome your timely intervention. Forgive our absence at the perimeter. The senators asked for an immediate consultation regarding our current defenses.” Bellona stated. Her voice was level, but something in her dark-brown eyes gave Thalia the feeling that the discussion was considered a waste of time to the goddess of war.
“I have journeyed hither to deliver intelligence of paramount gravity to this assembly, Bellona,” Diana declared, her voice carrying across the threshold. Silence reigned over the Senate building. Thalia looked to see ghosts within the pews begin to tremble, fear clear on their translucent faces.
As Diana coolly detailed the staggering enemy troop counts, Bellona’s expression remained an unreadable mask of stone. The two demigod women standing immediately to her left, however, reacted instantly. Both figures stiffened, their expressions hardening into masks of grim calculation.
The younger of the two stood closest to the Roman goddess of war. She stood with an absolute, unyielding military posture, her slender hand resting naturally upon the hilt of her imperial gold gladius. She possesses rich olive skin, a sharp aristocratic jawline, and a thick braid of glossy, obsidian-black hair draped neatly over her shoulder.
Beside her stood an older Amazonian woman who shared the same high cheekbones and piercing gaze. Her face was framed by loose, wild waves of the same midnight-dark hair, and her features were twisting into a deep frown as she assessed Diana’s words. The small distance between them and Bellona, and their being entirely untroubled by her aura, made it clear that they must be related to her.
The siblings look so completely alike. It reminded her of the time Piper accidentally dyed Jason’s hair black. Piper tried to use a magical bottle from the Hecate cabin to grow Jason’s hair evenly to give him a nice haircut. Unfortunately, their hair growth bottles looked similar to their hair dye bottles, and Jason wound up looking exactly like a taller Thalia. The only feature that separated them was the scar on his lip. It took nearly a week for the hair dye to fully wash out, but Piper managed to get many pictures of the siblings together. She even had them wear matching sweaters, stating the excuse for “holiday pictures”, despite it being the middle of February. Thalia, being reminded of the pictures in her bag, had a warm feeling brought to her chest.
“The forces of Rome are stretched near to their breaking point, even with the Amazonian treaty fully integrated into our auxiliary lines,” Bellona says, sighing and rubbing her temples with the fingers of her hand.
“Fear not entirely,” Diana countered smoothly. “My divine twin, Apollo, shall personally escort a detachment of Greek demigods to fortify your perimeter. He brings dedicated healers and battle-ready soldiers and a specialized Greek who intends to facilitate New Rome’s structural and modern evolution, and to alleviate the spiritual strain currently pressing upon Terminus's boundaries.”
Quirinus didn't move, but the ends of his mouth twitched into a frown. “And what is the exact number of these eastern travelers who dare cross into our domain?” Quirinus asked.
“Nine,” Diana relays calmly.
The god of the Roman state let out a short, sharp sound that's not quite a laugh, but a humorless puff of air that travels around the room, making the ghosts in the back pews flicker like dying candles. Thalia had to agree with his reaction, nine was too much for the Romans, sending Piper in would be enough, but Greeks rarely did like doing things alone.
"Nine?" Quirinus repeated the word dripping with cold disdain. He drew himself up to his full, imposing height, looking every bit the arrogant reflection of Thalia’s father. "You speak of a structural evolution, a modern awakening to alleviate the strain on our sacred boundaries, and you bring us nine children from the lawless East? A single century of Rome, a single legion, boasts more discipline and raw strength than whatever scattered fragments your twin has swept off the streets of the eastern grounds of America".
Bellona didn't lash out, but her hand drifted down to rest flat against the battle-worn plate armor protecting her thigh. Her sharp, dark-brown eyes stared at Diana as if she had said a joke that had yet to reach a punchline.
"Nine is a strike team, Diana, not an army," Bellona said, her voice cutting through Quirinus’s swelling arrogance. She rubbed her temples again, the metal of her gauntlet clinking softly. "We are staring down an onslaught that threatens to crack the city wide open. My Amazons have brought hundreds of blades, and yet we are still calculating our survival in fractions. Nine demigods, no matter how specialized, cannot hold a wall."
Thalia was between laughing and sneering at the gods in front of her. The male god spoke of the raw strength of his people when any person off the streets of this city would be considered malnourished and put in the critical care unit in the Apollo cabin. A man struggled outside to move a large stone grain mill.
Raw strength. Give me a break.
Thankfully, the two-faced god beside him spoke up before Thalia could give him a piece of her mind.
"You judge the worth of a pillar by the number of stones, Quirinus, rather than the strength of the mortar," Janus countered smoothly.
The two-faced god turned slowly. The younger face on his right side flashed a knowing, almost mischievous grin toward the assembly. "The Fates do not count headers in a legion. They count the threads of destiny. Nine is a precise number. A shifting number. It represents the catalyst before the pivot."
The older face on Janus's left side spoke, his voice heavy with ancient, wrinkled gravity. "Though it is true, they come with a fractured purpose. One among them carries a mind so shattered by the weight of a stitched thread that the air around her smells of iron and madness. They are not an army, nor are they a desperate gamble. They are a requirement." Janus’ gaze drifted over the trembling ghosts in the pews before settling directly on Quirinus. “A door cannot swing without a hinge, no matter how heavy the bronze.”
“A requirement?” Quirinus echoed, his tone sharpening as he took a step forward, his imperial purple toga snapping with the sudden movement. “Rome requires a legion. Rome requires fortresses that do not crumble and soldiers whose blood does not run thin. We do not require a broken girl and a handful of her peers to instruct us on how to survive under our own skies.”
“Oh, hush now, Quirinus! You always look at the clouds and assume it’s a storm instead of a refreshing downpour!” Fortuna’s voice boomed through the hall, rich and unbothered by the heavy tension. She shifted the massive cornucopia in her arms, causing a fresh cascade of muted berries to spill toward her ankles, while the heavy gold jewelry on her right arm jangled like a turning tide. Her green tunic practically glowed against the dull, lifeless stone of the senate floor.
“Let the nine come!” the goddess of luck cheered, a large grin that looked somewhat desperate as she looked around the room. “A city that does not change is a city where luck goes to rot. Nine is an erratic, beautiful number. It invites chance, and where there is chance, there is a fortune to be won! Besides, Janus is never wrong about a threshold. If the Fates have decreed a pivot, I intend to place my wagers on it.”
Thalia kept her head bowed, but a grim smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She was glad Janus spoke up for them, but the details of stitches and a fractured mindset set her on edge. It grazed a secret she didn't want to focus on. A shattered mind won’t bring the Romans to trust her, yet Thalia couldn’t protest without bringing more attention to it.
Hopefully, Janus won't divulge further when Piper arrives. Otherwise, it might cause her to stick to her embroidery projects, rendering this entire trip fruitless. These other Roman gods spoke of judgment and numbers, completely oblivious to the fact that the girl they were currently dismissing was going to make them turn every sacred stone in the city and thank her by the end of it. Thalia couldn’t wait for Piper to be a nuisance to them, a complete and utter nuisance.
Bellona didn’t share Fortuna’s delight, but the dark-brown eyes of the war goddess narrowed thoughtfully as she looked down at the mortal side of the aisle. Thalie knew the divine hierarchy of the gods had its boundaries. The gods could advise, demand, or bless, but the actual decisions belonged to the Senate and its Praetors. They could not simply snap their fingers and force the mortal assembly to build what they did not want.
"We can debate numbers all morning," Bellona stated, her level voice cutting through Quirinus’s rigid posture as she turned her gaze to the mortal benches. "But the Senate, the scholars, and the Praetors must agree to her terms. We have no time to waste on eastern novelties if our own people refuse to implement them."
On the floor below, a heavy murmur broke out among the mortal senators and the white-robed university scholars sitting in the gallery. Several older, frail senators clutched their frayed linen tunics, whispering anxiously. They looked exhausted, malnourished, and worn to the bone, their stubborn pride warring with the stark reality of their failing infrastructure. They weren't going to simply take orders from a Greek demigod, but they desperately needed a lifeline.
~~~
Diana stepped forward, her towering eight-foot form radiating a calm, moonlight composure that instantly silenced the bickering mortal pews.
"If the Senate and the university scholars agree to receive them," Diana declared, her voice echoing with ancient authority, "My divine twin Apollo will bring a massive surplus of advanced medical supplies to replenish your depleted infirmaries. Furthermore, if you accept their aid, these Greeks intend to stay and lend their hands to your defenses until the battle on June twenty-fourth is won. They do not come to conquer. They come to fortify."
Hearing the promise of vital medical aid and seasoned combat reinforcements, the university scholars began whispering furiously among themselves, nodding their heads. The younger of the two dark-haired sisters standing near Bellona, the one with the sharp aristocratic jawline, subtly nodded her approval. After a tense moment of deliberation, the lead senator stood and bowed stiffly. "If Apollo provides the medicine, and they swear to stand with the legion, the Senate agrees to grant them entry and to meet them tomorrow"
Diana inclined her head, her long black hair shifting over her deer pelt. She turned her gaze to the university scholars in the upper tiers. "Then let the groundwork begin immediately. I expect the university scholars to assemble at dawn tomorrow. You will meet with the Greeks to thoroughly review and discuss the proposed architectural and hydraulic projects. They will bring the general plans, and you will help adjust them."
Quirinus’s jaw tightened, his straight posture turning entirely rigid as he looked from the consenting senators back to Diana. He knew his own limitations in forcing their hands on civic matters, even if he despised the sudden shift. “Let your twin bring them, then, Daughter of Latona,” the god conceded coldly, his voice echoing off the ancient marble. “The Senate has spoken. Let us see if these nine eastern Greeks can truly match the weight of Rome's expectations tomorrow morning.”
“They shall, of course, remain to honor the feast of my namesake once the dust settles,” Fortuna replied, breaking the silence and relieving some of the tension in the room. “Do these Greeks require additional martial discipline or standard training?” Bellona asked her lady.
“They do not. Though they are a remarkably unorthodox assembly, they possess commendable lethality, provided your praetors refrain from attempting to govern them like unruly children.”, Diana replies smoothly, the ends of her lips twitching to a smile.
Hearing that, Thalia's mind flashed back to her twenty-first birthday. The hunters and Greeks had taken her into a mortal bar to celebrate. Despite Thalia being a fierce, battle-hardened punk girl, she was pulled into karaoke by a twenty-five-year-old Travis Stoll for Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Want To Have Fun. Travis sang himself to tears by the end of it and hugged her sobbing, telling her how proud he was of her, to have fun on her hunts, and to not kiss any boys. Totally not unruly at all.
Janus smiled, his younger face glowing with amusement. "A bountiful supply of confections and baked goods would perform miracles in maintaining the peace between our peoples." Fortuna frowned, her lips parting as if to question his cryptic remark, but a sudden voice cut through the assembly from the ranks of the gathered officers. "And what of the soldier? Is there any definitive word regarding our lost Praetor of Camp Jupiter?"
"Jason remains among the living," Diana declared, her voice silencing the murmurs. Thalia shifted her weight slightly as the goddess continued. "He shall return aboard a mighty warship once the smoke of the battlefield clears. Behold, his full sister stands directly by my side, having promised her brother to defend his city in his stead."
Fortuna smiled at Thalia widely. The tiny wild fruit in her cornucopia began to ripen deliciously. "The lineage of Jupiter is unmistakable upon your features. Surely, your spirit found profound solace in beholding his face once more."
“Yes, my lady,” Thalia nodded her head low so they would not see her gritting her teeth. "We were torn apart by cruel circumstances when we were children. I offer my gratitude to New Rome for shielding him in my absence."
As she looked back up, she caught the reactions of the two sisters beside Bellona. The younger one was staring at her with unblinking, raw curiosity until the Amazonian sharply nudged her with an elbow to force her back into rigid military decorum. The younger one took a step forward and spoke. "He stood as an exemplary soldier, bringing unmatched glory and pride to the city of New Rome."
A sentence that was made to reassure her, but Thalia didn't care about the city. She doesn't care about Roman pride, not when it comes to her missing brother. She refused to look at any other faces.
If she did, she would've spat profanities at them. She would've demanded answers from the Senate. Did he have nightmares? Who raised him? Did any of you comfort him? Did you force him to see death at an early age to desensitize him? She tightened her grip on her bow until her knuckles turned white, and Diana took that as a sign to step in to avoid New Rome facing a rising storm.
"Listen closely, and I shall unveil the tapestry of events that have transpired leading to this hour," Diana declared, commanding the room. "The earth mother, Gaia, orchestrated the abduction of your Praetor alongside a prominent Greek demigod. She intended to strip away his memories permanently and to forge him into a blind pawn for her awakening. Queen Juno intervened alongside Iris, performing a covert rescue alongside other fellow immortals. Iris was dispatched to take the son of the sea god, Perseus, directly to the frozen expanses of Alaska, while Queen Juno personally intercepted and shielded Jason and took him east”.
The Senate broke into angry murmurs. The Romans, believing they knew better than their gods, sent the augur and others to the north a few weeks ago, believing Jason was held there. Diana continued, ignoring their voices. “There was a separate quest being executed to safely transfer another child of destiny to the Greek encampment. The Queen crossed paths with them and joined their ranks, guiding Jason and his new companions toward the safety of the Greek camp."
The goddess hesitated, and Thalia understood the brief pause. There had been an intense, raging debate during their last meeting regarding how much of the quest's horrific reality should be unveiled to the Romans. Ultimately, the council decided that all the horrific details don’t need to be laid bare, though Thalia found it incredibly unfair that her lady was forced to play the messenger while the Queen of Olympus recovers at camp.
“The Queen of Olympus was herself ensnared by the shifting power of the Titans. Fortunately, Jason awakened to his true lineage, and the mortal trio fought valiantly to engineer her rescue. My Hunters and I, alongside the radiant goddess Venus, joined the battlefield to completely obliterate the Titan threat.”
“Will the Titan come back?” an anxious Senator called out from the pews.
"Not for centuries," Diana answered coldly. "Venus ensured the essence of the Titan was utterly undone."
"And what of the shades of our ancestors?" another voice demanded. "With the Doors of Death unsealed, can the dead come marching back to assist in the realm of the living?"
"At this very moment, the Underworld is consumed by a civil war of its own," Diana explained. "Because the Doors of Death stand open, a sea of monsters crawls continuously from the depths of Tartarus, flooding the subterranean passages to escape to the surface world. The heroic souls of Elysium and the lingering spirits of Asphodel labor tirelessly to drive the monsters back. Communication with my divine uncle, Lord Pluto, remains brief and volatile. Nevertheless, he assures us that significant headway will be achieved within the coming months. Furthermore, he has conveyed that there exist strict physical limitations to what a demigod’s mortal vessel can endure to retain its soul and continue functioning."
Thalia remembers hearing from Artemis of a Roman soldier with a hole in their chest, able to breathe, despite most of their right lung and half of their left lung being gone. A medical miracle, but not something Apollo is very happy about.
"Furthermore, I ask the legions of Rome to operate in perfect harmony alongside our Greek brethren," Diana instructed, her gaze sweeping over the senators. "Those who arrive at your gates are first-generation descendants of the Olympians. Many has executed sacred quests for the gods, held esteemed ranks, and performed legendary deeds during the Battle of Manhattan. You must collaborate with them as equals, for they bear no resemblance to the bitter rivals of your ancestors."
“Is there a reason for Jason not to arrive before the battle?” a veteran centurion asked.
"We harbor grave concerns that the enemy would utilize this battle as an opportunity to kidnap him once more," Diana clarified. "The construction of a formidable warship, coupled with a divine escort of two sovereign deities, stands as the most secure methodology to ensure his safe arrival."
"Do the Greeks require separate encampments or formal quarters within our walls?" Fortuna asked, looking around.
"My sanctuary is most appropriate. Let them find shelter within the halls of my temple," Janus offered, both faces nodding in unison.
"Our gratitude is yours, Janus," Fortuna declared, waving her gold-adorned arm toward the exit. "Romans, repair to the collective tables and partake of the harvest's bounty."
Thalia turns to Diana. Tiredness pulls at her eyes.
"Come and find solace within my temple, child," Diana said softly, her voice a comforting balm. "I shall rouse you from your slumber when my divine brother arrives."
Thalia nodded gratefully. Gathering in a tight, silent formation, the Hunters marched behind the goddess toward a magnificent, columned temple. Inside the cellar, plush blankets and thick pillows had been meticulously scattered over woven mats. Thalia slipped onto the warm bedding and slipped into a deep sleep.
~~~
Thalia opened her eyes to find herself standing within a dense forest. The air was thick with the scent of pine and burning wood. Nearby, a young man with a lean build and pale blonde hair was quietly adding dry branches to a crackling bonfire.
He sat upon a rotting log, his body angled away so that his face remained hidden in the deep shadows, illuminated only by the erratic, orange flickers of the flames.
"You are Greek, yes?" the young man asks, his voice sharp, carrying a strange, calculating weight.
Thalia hesitates before replying, "Yes—"
"But you are Jason’s full sister," the man interrupts, his fingers tracing the edge of a stuffed animal tucked into his belt.
"My father is a loose man," Thalia replies smoothly.
The man turns his head slightly. Surprise did not register on his lean features. Instead, a faint, deeply amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You possess his exact brand of humor."
Thalia narrows her eyes, uncertain whether he spoke of her father or her brother, and she has absolutely no patience left for cryptic riddles. "Who are you?"
“We’ll meet in a week…Is Jason different?” the man asks, staring into the heart of the fire.
“Given what he’s gone through…I wouldn’t expect them to be the same,” she replies softly.
“I saw him… Is he alive? Is he alive now?” The man asks
“I–why?” Thalia demands. She doesn’t know this man. She doesn’t know if he is working with Gaia or if he even knows that specific, heavily guarded detail about Jason’s quest.
“Something tells me he shouldn't be”, the man says, fingers twitching restlessly in a familiar motion that makes Thalia’s blood run cold.
“He will be here,” the man states.
“Who?”
“The other man, the son of the sea god, the Greek…he is heavy but necessary. I need to know something about him, as the signs show consumption, but not what. He wasn’t very friendly, so asking him now is useless.”
It was then that Thalia notices Percy. He is tucked beside the man on the floor, sleeping. Though his face looked peaceful, she could tell that he was resting far too deeply. He hadn’t moved at all during their conversation. His skin appeared to have been wiped clean, though it still carried faint traces of dirt, and his rough clothes looked as if he had been dragged for miles.
Her thoughts raced, immediately jumping to Annabeth, but then she forced herself to focus on Percy himself. Thinking of his predicament brought her back to an old presentation Piper and Will had put together, theorizing that because Percy was a child of Poseidon, he would technically be classified as a cannibal if he ate fish, which could cause him to develop a ‘neurodegenerative disorder’. Thalia just decides to play it safe.
“He’s allergic to shellfish…he cannot eat any fish at all. It makes him sick.” She didn’t actually know if it would make him physically ill, but she figured that eating something that was essentially his own kin would make anybody’s stomach turn.
The thought reminded her of how Jason had always claimed he never liked papayas, yet during the week before he finally started regaining his memories, papayas had suddenly become one of his favorite fruits to eat. He still ate them now, though the look on his face whenever he chewed showed he was still actively deciding whether or not he actually liked them.
“Of course, he is,” the man states, breaking Thalia out of her thoughts.
A sudden shuffling of feet echoed through the brush as two distinct figures began to approach from the tree line. Before she could catch a good look at them, the world began to blur, and the man’s voice started to fade from her ears.
“We will arrive at midday. Please tell Lady Fortuna that Quirinus’s favorite lady will be in his arms once again.”