Lazily, Finley's eyes fluttered open. 

"Finny!" a voice hissed before Finley's eyes could adjust to the light. 

As they did, she took notice of a blonde with princess curls sitting before her. The girl's hair tied messily into a ponytail and her stormy grey eyes were wide. 

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. 

"Well," Finley whispered with a sarcastic tone as she sat up."I didn't exactly wish to be brought here by the Scar-Faced Bitch."

"If you were at camp-"

"Who said anything about me being at camp?"

"That's where you're supposed to be!" Annabeth hissed. She had given up on the rope around her wrists, but Finley had not.

"Yeah, well, it just so happens I got a quest to free you and Aunt Artie over there," Finley said as she twisted her wrists. "Being capture was not part of the plan."

"Who's on the quest?"

"Percy, Thals, Zoe, Grover, and Bianca. Well . . .Bianca was on the quest," Finley frowned. "She was crushed by an overgrown Tin Man."

"No," Artemis let out from her place a few feet away. "You should not have gone on a quest! It's a trap!"

"Yeah, well," Finley sassed as she continued to free herself. "It's kinda hard when the dam oracle decides to take a stroll into the middle of a Capture the Flag game, sprouting a prophecy."

"What was the proph-" Annabeth was cut off by Luke. 

"Oh good!" He grinned. "You're awake!"

Finley clenched her jaw and glared. 

"Have a nice nap?" he teased. 

"Not exactly the top quality mattress," she sassed, kicking a rock, successfully hitting his forehead. "My pillow was rather hard."

"Come now, Finny Fin," He said with a frown. "I thought we could be on the same side."

"How unfortunate for you," Finley pouted. Her eyes were wide with mockery and false sympathy. "I think some nice salt to help heal the wound? I hear it's most therapeutic? The pain it causes builds character. Character you definitely need."

If you never had salt rubbed in an open wound, you're lucky. It hurts a lot more than you might think it would. 

"Then sit there and rot," Luke growled. 

"Can I get my mac and cheese?" Finley called after his retreating figure. "Your stupid zombies got in the way of my lunch!"

Receiving no response, she huffed and pressed her back against the fallen white column. She shut her eyes as she angled her head up to the sky. She wanted her headphones and her sword. Even the absences of the ring that Light Bringer turned into brought her discomfort. 

It didn't help that Luke teasingly placed it just out of her reach. 

She was shackled to the floor and no matter who far she stretched her limbs, she couldn't reach them (her headphones were there too). 

It was his game. 

Finley knew if she joined, she'd get her things back. 

But she wouldn't join. She couldn't let Kronos win. She wouldn't let humanity die. She wouldn't let her family die. 

Oddly enough, her mind drifted to Percy. 

She found herself doing that more often than she'd care to admit. 

Every time she sought comfort after the taunts she received, she'd find a pair of luminous sea-green eyes in her mind. Every time she wished for someone to counsel her after a nightmare, even if they weren't bad, she'd think of the boy with windswept black hair. 

She was relieved when he came on the quest. She was glad someone would understand her jokes and references. She was thrilled she could have someone she trusted (other than Thalia) fighting by her side. To have someone who knew her fighting style as well as his own fighting back to back. 

And she hated it. 

She hated how reliant she became around Percy. She hated how she just expected him to be there when she needed him. She hated the fact all the independence she felt would jump off the lava wall. She hated he was the person she would turn to for comfort.

It's not like Finley isn't independent. She's one of the most independent and hard-headed people you will ever meet. It's the fact that in her moments of weakness, he is the person she turns to. He is the person she wants to comfort her. 

It used to be Annabeth, but after she fell off the cliff . . .Finley, to save herself the pain, didn't get her hopes up for her blonde friend's return. She constantly told herself she needed to act like Annabeth is gone for good. This didn't mean, however, she wasn't going to try and save her. 

Finley has always been determined to be a hero. 

But how does she expect herself to be a hero when she relies on someone to catch her as she fell?

This is exactly why she never let anyone know of her internal struggle. She never told anyone of her insecurities. She never speaks of her nightmares. She never speaks of the flashbacks she gets from her mother. 

She suffered in silence, forcing herself not to seek the comfort she so desperately wanted. 

Pain shot through Finley's mind as images flashed. It felt like knives stabbing through her skull. 

A group of three teenagers made their way across murky water in a run-down boat. It looked close to breaking into thousands of pieces. The wind whipped their hair and their cheeks became flushed from the cold air. 

"So what's she like?" a darker-skinned girl with dark curly hair asked her friend teasingly. Her honey eyes shone with interest. She was clearly the youngest out of the three. 

"I-" the boy with sea-green eyes began but frowned. 

"You ought to know something," the final person said. He was Chinese and rather large, but his face . . .it was a babyface. "She's the only thing you can remember. Besides, you took the potion."

"She's special," the boy said wistfully. It then did Finley realize this was an elder Percy. Maybe nearing seventeen. "I've known her since I was twelve. I don't remember much, but I remember her the most. She has a golden sword-"

Babyface (what Finley started calling the other boy) snorted. 

Finley never got to see the rest of the vision. It faded, leaving her with the worst headache imaginable.

Finley lifted her head and moved to grab her sword. She stretched her legs as far as they would go, bending her feet at awkward angles. 

When she didn't work, she looked all around for something she could use to grab them. 

"Oh no," Annabeth groaned. "I hate that face."

"Gee," Finley rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"That's your planning face. I hate half of your plans."

Finley simply shrugged her shoulders before getting an idea. 

"No," Annabeth shot down with a hiss. 

"You didn't even hear my plan yet!"

"I don't need to."

"That's discouraging."

Artemis looked between the two with humor evident in her eyes. Unfortunately, she went back to straining herself as she held the sky. 

"You're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

"You bet."

Finley might not be like most of her siblings, but for once it came with a plus. Out of all of the campers, she can dislocate her shoulder without causing damage at all. 

"A little warning next time?" Annabeth pleaded as she shielded her eyes from the grotesque view. 

She pushed her arm out. Due to the dislocation, she was able to move her magical items into her reach. 

With a grin, Finley popped her shoulder back into place before placing her ring on her finger and her headphones in her jean jacket pocket. 

"They're coming!" Luke hissed. He didn't spear Finley a glance as she grabbed Annabeth. 

"Let her go!" Finley demanded. 

"Sorry, Finny Fin," he said. "You're needed. You have to stay."

Finley pulled at her chains, but it wasn't a point. 

She took notice of the fact Annabeth only had rope bounds while Finley had metal. She wondered why but didn't think too hard seeing as the others appeared.

Thalia looked around cautiously as they picked our way through the rubble, past blocks of marble and broken archways. "It moves in the same way that Olympus moves. It always exists on the edges of civilization. But the fact that it is here, on this mountain, is not good." 

"Why?" 

"This is Atlas's mountain," Zoe said. "Where he holds—" She froze. Her voice was ragged with despair. "Where he used to hold up the sky." 

They had reached the summit. A few yards ahead of them, gray clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the mountaintop, but instead rested on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress: Artemis, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze chains. 

This is what Percy had seen in his dream. It hadn't been a cavern roof that Artemis was forced to hold. It was the roof of the world. 

"My lady!" Zoe rushed forward, but Artemis said, "Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now." 

Her voice was strained. She was drenched in sweat. 

Zoe was crying. She ran forward despite Artemis's protests and tugged at the chains. A booming voice spoke behind us: "Ah, how touching." 

They turned. The General was standing there in his brown silk suit. At his side were Luke and half a dozen dracaenae bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. Annabeth stood at Lukes side. She had her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, and Luke was holding the point of his sword to her throat.

As Percy met Annabeth's eyes, the message she sent him as clear: RUN

"Luke," Thalia snarled. "Let her go." 

Luke's smile was weak and pale. He looked even worse than he had three days ago inD.C. "That is the General's decision, Thalia. But it's good to see you again." 

Thalia spat at him. The General chuckled. "So much for old friends. And you, Zoe. It's been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you." 

"Do not respond," Artemis groaned. "Do not challenge him." 

"Wait a second," Percy. "You're Atlas?" 

 The General glanced at him. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl." 

"You're not going to hurt Zoe," Percy said. "I won't let you." 

The General sneered. "You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter."

 "A family matter?" Percy questioned. He could hear the jangling of chains in the background but didn't think much of it. 

"Yes," Zoe said bleakly. "Atlas is my father."