chapter XII

🪷  Don't get Daphne wrong - she was pretty annoyed about being tricked, teased, used and ridiculed by an all-powerful God. But she didn't think that her first instinct would be to ... you know, try and kill him.

She was wondering how they'd make it back to the shore before they drowned when a Coast Guard boat picked them up. Daphne had never been a strong swimmer, and Annabeth was helping to keep her above water. With some extreme luck (for them, at least), they were too busy to keep them for long, or to wonder how four kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up, radios jammed with distress calls.

They dropped them off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around their shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people. Daphne hid her wrist as they were being rescued, but she got the impression that it wouldn't have mattered anyway. They were too busy to evaluate them, which she was too grateful for to risk it and ask for a cast, or something.

Their clothes were all sopping wet, even Percys. She supposed he had the power to will himself to be waterproof or not, and she was silently grateful that he'd taken one for the team. Pulling a kid from the ocean who was dry would've sounded some alarm bells. He was also barefoot, having given his shoes to Grover. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of them was barefoot than wonder why one of them had hooves.

After reaching dry land, they stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth breathed helplessly, frustrated with herself for not seeing through it. "We went all that way-"

"It was a trick," Percy agreed. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

Annabeth turned to him, murder flashing in her eyes. "Hey," she warned.

"You get it, don't you?" Percy said hastily.

Daphne placed her unharmed hand on Annabeth's shoulder as she dropped her eyes, her anger fading. "Yeah. I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. Daphne had to agree. "Would somebody-"

"Percy ..." Annabeth whispered. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry...."

He was obviously pretending not to hear her. "The prophecy was right," he interrupted. "You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades's helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it."

Daphne was finally starting to get up to speed with what was going on, but she still couldn't be too secure in the knowledge she fed herself.

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

Percy stopped in his tracks, looking down the beach. "Gee, let me think."

There he was, waiting for them in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see them. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," he shook with fury. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power-that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this ..."

From his pocket he took out a ski cap-the kind bank robbers wear-and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Daphne whispered, finally realising what was going on.

Basically, the whole quest was them signing Percy's death warrant, and the fate of the entire world at hand.

Daphne needed a nap.

"Exactly," Ares grinned at his own brilliance." Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," Percy accused him. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares shrugged. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket, right?"

Daphne didn't know that about his sword. It seemed pretty useful for a weapon, but she wondered if she could find anyone who would enchant some of her other possessions for it. Then she remembered that she didn't actually own anything but her knife, the clothes on her back and her precious yellow rubber duck.

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades.... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way - no loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" Grover piped up. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I ... yeah ... with that kind of firepower ..."

He held the trance for one second ... two seconds...

Daphne exchanged nervous looks with Annabeth.

Ares's face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing."

"You're lying," Daphne spat. His angry aura was starting to infect all of them now. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," Percy guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

Percy hesitated. "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk.

"Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

Wait, what?

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than one she'd ever seen. Once when she was a lot younger, Daphne's babysitter had taken her to a petting zoo. She fell in love with a little piglet rolling in mud, but this thing reminded her nothing of the cute animal. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at Percy with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

Percy stepped into the surf. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He's an idiot, Daphne realized. They'd been following an idiot around for weeks and he somehow managed to get them not killed. But now he was going to get himself killed, all because he had the guts to threaten the literal God of war.

Ares laughed in his face, but Daphne heard a little edge to his laughter ... an uneasiness. "You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from the Chimera. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Scared?"

"In your adolescent dreams." But his sunglasses were starting to melt from the heat of his eyes. "No direct involvement. Sorry, kid. You're not at my level."

Daphne's blood went cold. She didn't know how she knew to say it, but her mouth blurted it out before anything could happen. "Percy, run."

The giant boar charged - not a moment too soon. Daphne's extra warning gave him at least another two seconds to react, where he was able to sidestep the board and uncap his pen.

Riptide appeared in his hands and he slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at his feet while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

Daphne couldn't help but pity the creature. An animal meant to serve their god, but had been lead astray by it, even sentenced to his death. It reminded her of herself and her friends.

Percy shouted something and a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

He turned back to Ares, and Daphne started planning his funeral at the glint in his eye.

"Are you going to fight me now?" he asked, almost mockingly. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares's face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into-"

"A cockroach," he guessed. Daphne imagined Percy as a little cockroach. What would they do with him? Annabeth would surely say they needed to construct a terrarium, and Grover would probably sit on him by accident. "Or a tapeworm. Yeah, I'm sure. That'd save you from getting your godly hide whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you have to go away."

Ares sneered. He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

Percy showed him his sword.

"That's cool, dead boy," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat changed into a huge, two- handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Percy," Annabeth finally found her voice, but it came out quietly. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"He's a coward," Percy corrected her.

She swallowed. "Wear this, at least. For luck." she took off her necklace with her five years worth of camp beads and the locket of her and Daphne and thrust it into his hand.

"Reconciliation," she said. "Athena and Poseidon. Friends again."

Daphne shrugged off her coat which had survived for too long, draping it over Percy's shoulders. Considering it was a kids size, it fit them both perfectly. "Here, wear this. It's pretty cold out here. And -"

Her hands were moving quicker than she could think, and suddenly, her rubber duck was in her hands. "And this." Daphne blurted out, stepping forward.

Her one possession. Under any other circumstance, she never would've given it up. She held it out to him hesitantly as though she wanted to pull it back into herself. "My duck. Keep him safe or Ares won't be the one skewering you, okay?"

Percy's face felt warm as he took the gift. He'd watched her slip it into her pocket when they were in Waterland, but hadn't imagined that she'd still be carrying it with her. It must've meant a lot. "Thanks."

"And take this," Grover blurted out, handing Percy a flattened tin can that he'd probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover ... I don't know what to say."

He patted Percy on the shoulder as he stuffed the tin can and rubber duck in the coat pocket.

"Hey Percy?" Daphne called out to him as he started walking towards Ares. He turned. "I bet you a jellybean you live."

He grinned. "Deal."

"You all done saying good-bye?" Ares interrupted impatiently. He came toward them, his black leather duster trailing behind him, sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

Nerve, Daphne guessed. A smaller ego. Guts of steel and too much bravery to call human. But maybe that was just stupidity.

Percy and Ares stood thirty feet away from them. Daphne pulled on Annabeth and Grover's shirts, urging them to step away from them.

"Even strength has to bow down to wisdom sometimes," Annabeth reminded them in a haunting whisper. Almost like she was trying to convince herself.

Ares lunged first. He cleaved downward at Percy's head, but he wasn't there.

She'd never seen him move so fast before. It was like his body thought for him. The water seemed to push him into the air and he catapulted over him, slashing as he came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again and Percy was forced to jump onto dry land. He tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what he wanted.

Daphne didn't want to watch. Her heart was caught in her throat, but something about the fight refused to allow her to pull her gaze away. Maybe it was the aura of the God of War affecting her, but she hated it.

Soon enough, however, she was given a reason to pry her eyes from the fight as a bright light from above was shone right into her face. Daphne squinted, staggering back a couple of steps and saw what looked like a Coast Guard helicopter flying overhead.

Ares knocked his blade out of Percys hands and kicked him in the chest. He went airborne-twenty, maybe thirty feet and would've broken his back if he hadn't crashed into the soft sand of a dune.

Daphne surged forward like she was going to help, but Annabeth and Grover pulled her back.

It's not my fight, she had to repeat to herself. Besides, your wrist is literally bent backwards, and you're on the verge of crying. How pathetic would she look against the god of war?

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled in warning, realising what Daphne had. "Cops!"

Daphne didn't know how, but Percy staggered to his feet again. He couldn't look away from Ares for fear he'd slice him in half, but out of the corner of his eye he saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Looks like that kid on TV ... what the heck ..."

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup."

Percy rolled to one side as Ares's blade slashed the sand. He ran for his sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find his blade
deflected again. Ares seemed to know exactly what Percy was going to do the moment before he did it.

Percy stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow.

Please, Daphne begged. Have a plan.

"Admit it, kid," Ares smirked. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

A second cop car pulled up, siren wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, Daphne thought she saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. She heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above and felt eyes on them, hearing people snap pictures.

More sirens.

Percy stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped his sleeve and grazed his forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns! Set them on the ground. Now!"

Guns?

Daphne squinted at Ares's weapon, and it seemed to be flickering; sometimes it looked like a shotgun,
sometimes a two-handed sword. She didn't know what the humans were seeing in Percy's hands, but she was pretty sure it wouldn't make them like him.

Ares turned to glare at the spectators, which gave Percy a moment to breathe. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on them. Grover was whimpering.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone!"

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

Ares roared with laughter. "Now, little hero. Let's add you to the barbecue."

He slashed. Percy deflected his blade. He got close enough to strike, tried to fake him out with a feint, but the blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting Percy in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs in the ocean, wading in after him.

"I can't watch," Daphne whispered, her eyes trained on the fight.

Grover gulped. When Daphne turned, she saw that his hands were covering his face. "Me either!" he howled. "Tell me when it's over!"

Percy felt the rhythm of the sea, the waves growing larger as the tide rolled in, and suddenly he had an idea. Little waves, he thought, and the water behind him seemed to recede by his own command. He was holding back the tide by force of will, but tension was building, like carbonation behind a cork.

Ares came toward, grinning confidently. Percy lowered his blade, as if he was too exhausted to go on. Wait for it, he commanded the sea. The pressure now was almost lifting him off of his feet. Ares raised his sword.

Percy released the tide and jumped, rocketing straight over Ares on a wave.

A six-foot wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. Percy landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward his head, as he'd done before. He turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was disoriented, he didn't anticipate the trick. Percy changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel.

Daphne gasped, clutching onto Annabeth's arm. The roar that followed made Hades's earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boot. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.

He limped toward Percy, muttering ancient Greek curses.

Something stopped him.

It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making Percy feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless.

The darkness lifted.

Ares looked stunned.

Police cars were burning behind them. The crowd of spectators had fled. Daphne, Annabeth and Grover stood on the beach in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he told Percy, withering hate in his voice. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware."

"He did it," Daphne gawked, absolutely amazed.

Ares' body began to glow.

"'Percy!" Annabeth screamed, realising what was happening before anybody else did. "Don't watch!"

"Huh?" Daphne started. Before she could ask what Annabeth had actually meant, the braided girl had thrown her body onto Daphne's clouding her vision as they fell to the ground with an 'owe!'.

Not a moment too soon. If she had stood there dumbfounded for another few seconds, Daphne would've been incinerated into ashes.

The light died and Annabeth rolled off Daphnes body. She groaned, leaning on her bad wrist to push herself up before she remembered it was broken with a hiss. When she looked back, Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades's bronze helm of darkness. Percy picked it up and walked toward them, stumbling like a clumsy fool and as though he hadn't just defeated a God in battle.

But before he reached them, Percy heard the flapping of leathery wings. Three evil-looking grandmothers with lace hats and fiery whips drifted down from the sky and landed in front of him.

The middle Fury, the one who had been Alecto, chasing Daphne and Thalia for years, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have Percy for supper, but had decided he might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So ... it truly was not you?"

Percy tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," he said. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again ..."

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

He joined the rest of them where they were staring at him with a dumbfounded amazement.

"Percy ..." Grover started, staring up at him in awe. "That was so incredibly ..."

"Stupid?" Annabeth offered.

"Terrifying," Daphne whispered.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

He didn't feel terrified. Percy certainly didn't feel cool. He was tired and sore and completely drained of energy.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" he asked nervously.

They all nodded uneasily. The hairs on Daphne's arms still hadn't laid flat, goosebumps littering her skin at the chill of the voice. It drank into her spine, almost seeping into her blood.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover reasoned.

But Daphne wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing Percy, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

He reclaimed the backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a
small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," Percy said simply. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Annabeth shook her head. "unless we-"

"Fly," Percy agreed.

She stared at him. "Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," he agreed simply. "Pretty much exactly like that."

Daphne thought Percy was on a suicide mission. Annabeth turned to her like she was asking - pleading - her to come up with a better idea. But she was stumped.

"Yeah, why not?" Daphne sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. Her wrist was throbbing and she had no clue how nobody else had noticed. "Maybe they'll give us neck pillows."

Percy grinned. "Come on. Let's go save the world."

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆
🌷🪷🌊

ʚɞ Shitty chapter im sorry !!!!!! 😁🫶