Archive of Our Own

“As someone who has literally been through war, this is worse,” Piper complained from where she was sprawled out on a grassy hill overlooking Camp Jupiter’s New Rome.

Annabeth, who was sitting on the hill beside Piper with her sketchbook resting on her lap, glanced over at her friend critically. Piper was very much in one piece, lying on her back in the sunlight with her eyes closed and her arms and legs spread out around her. Her choppy brown hair was tied back in a braid, but several strands had come loose and were now framing her face in such an effortlessly beautiful way that marked her undeniably as a daughter of Aphrodite. Piper was not scratched, bleeding, or wounded in any way. Instead, she was mildly flushed and sweaty, dressed in the matching two-piece athletic set she wore to New Rome’s yoga classes.

“I can see that. How ever did you survive?” Annabeth asked sarcastically, returning her focus to her sketchbook.

“I’m being dead serious, Annie!” Annabeth absolutely despised being called Annie, which was precisely why Piper did it. “My legs are in sooo much pain right now that I think amputation would be merciful. Martha was kicking my ass today.”

Well, that makes sense, Annabeth thought, considering that Martha was a daughter of Mars, the Roman god of war. Martha was one of the older living demigods who had retired from the legion to live fulltime in the safety and serenity of New Rome. But, since Martha still was a child of Mars, she spent her time teaching classes to younger demigods, such as ‘Martial Yoga: Namaste the Monsters away.’

And as overdramatic as Annabeth thought Piper was being- which was very- she had attended some of Martha’s yoga classes with Piper before and she had to admit, she definitely felt the burn, so to speak.

In fact, she would’ve attended that afternoon’s yoga class with Piper had she not been busy with her new architecture internship in San Francisco.

Living the life that she had so far, Annabeth was always afraid of happiness, of growing too comfortable for fear that it might get ripped away. But now, despite the ugly conglomeration of all her past experiences screaming at her to remain on guard, Annabeth found herself acclimating to this new period of peace; because now Annabeth had a new steady routine in her life, and it was one that she was more deeply attached to than she would like to admit. The biggest and most important part of her new routine being Percy, obviously.

As self-driven and independent as she was, Annabeth viewed no future for herself that didn’t involve Percy; and normally, feeling that strongly about anyone would terrify Annabeth. It did at one point, and sometimes it still did, but she knew that he felt exactly the same about her.

And now, her third year living in New Rome and attending New Rome University and Berkeley, it felt like all the pieces were truly starting to fall into place.

Her life up until this point had been akin to a leaky water faucet, Annabeth thought. Even when it was fully turned off and the calm settled in, the water still dripped dripped dripped. A constant annoying, aggravating noise. But now that Annabeth’s proverbial faucet had been repaired, she found the silence unnerving. Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder whether the constant, demoralizing dripping leak or the silent anticipation of waiting for the next pipe to burst was worse?

Gods, too philosophical, Beth, Annabeth imagined Percy saying, brandishing his classic smirk, and the mere thought of him made her chest feel all warm and fuzzy.

That’s not to say their relationship had always been perfect. When your relationship is built on a strong foundation of friendship and shared trauma, adapting to a normal life- as normal as going to college in a demigod replica town of Ancient Rome- can be difficult. Admittedly, the majority of their struggles were due to their own personal mental hardships, but they were learning to go on. For the most part, Annabeth and Percy were past their youthful antics of jealousy, oblivion, and miscommunication, minus the occasional lapse, and were now dedicated to learning how to be grownups together. Regular, capable, healthy grownups.

And it turned out, teaching was a remarkable way for them to learn. For Percy especially.

It had been a part of the agreement that if they both attended New Rome University on a full scholarship, they’d be expected to teach specific skill classes to the younger demigods— some serving in the legion, and some younger ones preparing to enter. Percy ran a sword fighting class, of course, and Annabeth taught tactical combat.

It had been no problem, really. A child of Athena, Annabeth had always held a passion for teaching. The passing on of knowledge was a beautiful, remarkable thing. Yet, surprisingly, it had been Percy who had really excelled. The children all loved Percy, thriving under his instruction, and Percy thrived right alongside them.

He never put it into words, but Annabeth knew exactly what teaching those young demigods meant to him. After years of slaying monsters and desperately fighting to survive, he was getting to use his birth-given, unmatched skill with the sword for something good. Not something that meant death or destruction, but instead, life and continuance. A new generation on the horizon.

Annabeth knew that in the youthful faces of the legion’s demigod children, Percy saw spring blossoms sprouting from a cruel winter’s frozen ground. Annabeth knew it, because she saw it too. Of course, Percy wouldn’t phrase it like that.

Annabeth could picture Percy as if he were sitting on the grassy New Rome hill before her, listening to her rapid, spiraling thoughts. Sea green eyes glossy, not quite comprehending, but oh so attentive nonetheless. A quaint, warm smile on his beautiful face. I just like listening to you talk, he’d say. And he’d mean it wholly, too.

“Ughh, I’m starving. What time is it, anyway?” Piper whined, stirring Annabeth from her thoughts. “And where’s that boyfriend of yours?”

“It’s only 5:25,” Annabeth reported, checking her watch. “He’s got another 5 minutes til he’s off. Plus it’s Friday, so he has the oldest age group. You know they always go overtime.”

“He just can’t get enough of swinging that sword around and showing off to those poor kids, can he?” Piper said humorously, rolling her eyes. “And we have the general ‘Percy lateness’ curve to account for, which ranges anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes, so we’re probably looking at another half hour until he gets here.”

“Most likely.”

“You should just date me instead. Then the two of us could go have a nice, romantic dinner,” Piper joked, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

“Hmm, I’ll consider it,” Annabeth said dryly.

“Oh c’mon,” Piper encouraged, “you know what they say about dating Aphrodite kids?”

“Don’t,” Annabeth quipped, shooting her friend a sideways smirk.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Piper sputtered, playfully swatting at Annabeth. “No, that we give fabulous head.”

It was Annabeth’s turn to jab at her friend, poking her in the ribs. “You’re intolerable, Mclean,” she laughed.

Annabeth had found herself laughing a lot more ever since Piper transferred over to join her and Percy at New Rome University last fall. Of course, no one made her laugh harder than Percy, the sarcastic, ridiculous boy that he was. But she had to admit that it was nice to have a fellow girl that she was so close to around-- one who wasn’t busy with running Camp Jupiter’s legion, as Hazel was. Growing up on the run with Luke and Thalia, and then transitioning straight into the war-focused environment that was her early teenage years, going on quest after quest with Percy and Grover, Annabeth had a significant amount of ‘girl time’ to catch up on. And Piper had nobly dedicated herself to Annabeth’s cause.

Annabeth had never voiced it aloud, but she had long thought that Percy and Piper had a similar quality to them. A zestful vigor that you couldn’t help but be captivated by; such a light-hearted, humorous energy about them that simply being in their presence made life seem more livable.

And now, here she was on a pleasant spring afternoon, waiting for her boyfriend to arrive so she can have a nice dinner in New Rome with two of her favorite people.

“Just admit it, Chase. You want a piece of my ass.”

“Damn, you caught me,” Annabeth replied flatly, closing her sketchbook and tucking it back into her bag, resigning herself to the fact she wouldn’t be getting any work done. “We would make quite the power couple, I admit.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Piper interjected. “The girl I sit next to in my psych class, Brit, you know Brit. Well, I guess she’s technically my sister, or my Roman half-sister,” she briefly trailed off. “But anyway, she was showing me this new, cheap athleisure company, Necarah, and-”

“Necarah?” Annabeth was next to certain she had never heard of the company, but she still felt a strange tingle of familiarity at the name.

“Yeah, it’s apparently really big right now. They were started in San Fran, so I’m surprised you’ve never heard of them, Miss big shot city architect.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but now that Piper had mentioned it, she could almost recall passing a humongous eyesore of a warehouse labeled with such a name on her commute into the city for her internship. At least that would explain why the name had felt so subconsciously familiar to her.

“But as I was saying, Brit was showing me their website ‘cause I was talking about how much I need new clothes for yoga and,” Piper paused, stalling only for what Annabeth could guess was intended to be dramatic effect. “I found the most hideous, atrocious, matching 80s style couple’s workout set for sale on their website and I think we need it.”

“Do we?”

“Well, you haven’t even heard the best part yet,” Piper smirked in such a way that Annabeth couldn’t help but be reminded of Percy’s own signature troublemaker smile, setting a wave of warm butterflies loose in her chest. She had long ago learned that Percy didn’t need to be anywhere near her for his melting, enrapturing presence to take effect on her.

“And what would that be?” Annabeth asked, using all her strength of mind to maintain her sarcastic, witty composure.

“It comes with matching silk leg warmers!”

Piper beamed, and even without a trace of a charmspeak in her voice, there was such a natural enthralling quality to Piper that Annabeth knew that trying to deny her entirely was a lost cause. So instead, she jokingly exclaimed, “Legwarmers, why thank the gods!” in reply, sending them both into a fit of girlish laughter.

And it was in this laughter that Annabeth first caught sight of a figure ascending the hill from the corner of her eye. Forgetting that it was still too early for Percy to be meeting them, Annabeth excitedly turned, expecting to see the familiar face of her boyfriend, sweaty, flushed, and unfairly attractive following his sword fighting lesson. Instead, she was met with a stouter, more girlish figure.

“Hazel,” Piper happily called, waving their friend over. But as Hazel got closer to the hilltop, still clad her in purple praetor cape and wearing a serious expression, it became clear that she wasn’t coming to simply hang out.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth called once Hazel was within earshot.

Before she could even get a word out in response, Annabeth was already on her feet, slinging her bag over her shoulder and brushing the grass stains off her jeans.

“Oh, just some monsters attacking the tunnel, trying to get into camp. The usual.” While her words were nonchalant and her tone was level, there was a hint of anxiety buried in her amber eyes that betrayed her careful composure. Anyone who only knew Hazel as the twelfth legion’s fearless praetor wouldn’t notice, but as her friend, Annabeth knew better.

As did Piper, who was also on her feet in seconds. “How bad?”

Hazel relaxed slightly, her shoulders sagging as she sighed, “Decently bad. One of our tunnel guards reported back that there’s a huge incoming wave of Stymphalian birds, and all our oldest legionnaires are in lessons with Percy right now. Frank’s working on rounding everyone up, but they’re coming in fast and Molly’s alone out there, then I saw you two and-”

“Wait, where is Molly?” Annabeth demanded, thick panic coursing through her. Molly was a young demigod daughter of Vulcan that she had taken a strong liking to during her tactical combat lessons, as the girl shared in Annabeth’s love of architecture. Hence, the two had formed a kinship, Annabeth viewing her as a little sister.

“Alone. Guarding the tunnel.” The worry flooded back into Hazel’s eyes, and Annabeth could only imagine that hers looked quite the same. “She was the other legionnaire on guard duty, and when her companion came back to report monsters, Molly stayed behind. I saw you two on the hill, and I thought you could go help her. At least until Frank and I can organize for-”

But Annabeth was already rushing down the hill and towards the Caldecott Tunnel before Hazel could finish her sentence, Piper at her tail.

“Stupid monsters, can’t even let a girl eat dinner first,” Piper grumbled, speeding up to catch up with Annabeth.

“Shoulda known something like this would happen,” Annabeth sighed, fishing her knife out of the bottom of her bag. “It’s been too calm lately.”

Piper hummed in agreement as the two passed by the perimeter of Camp Jupiter and entered the long, cinder block tunnel into the mortal world. Their heavy footsteps reverberated loudly off the tunnel walls, nearly covering the sickening sound of the Stymphalian birds' cry on the opposite end. Annabeth’s stomach twisted, her mind forming vivid images of the young Molly bloodied and beaten. She wouldn’t let that happen.

And then she was running toward the daylight, knife in hand and Piper at her side.

“You know,” Piper said, voice surprisingly even for someone who was running at full speed. “Think how much cooler we’d look charging into battle in matching 80s athletic wear.”

But there was no time for a witty retort because the monsters were upon them.

Piper took center, the sun shining directly on her as she proudly proclaimed, “Hey bird brains, go away!” Her voice enveloped in power.

But Annabeth couldn’t focus on her friend for too long as she darted to the right, cutting down two birds with her knife, and then ducking and rolling to avoid the sharp beak of a third. Quickly, Annabeth jumped back up, bringing her knife down on the head of another, turning it to sulfuric smelling dust.

Annabeth’s mind and body were practically buzzing, so alert and aware. No matter how removed she was from her past, from all the wars and bloodshed, combat was in her nature. And she was good at it.

Instinctively, she ducked away from the approaching bird's talons and spun, bringing her knife in an upwards slash. From a few feet away, Piper commanded, “Retreat, you stupid birds!” The charmspeak in her voice was so strong that Annabeth felt the urge to turn and run herself.

In a conglomerate mass, the Stymphalian birds turned and flew straight away from Piper in such a rushed panic that Annabeth just barely had time to jump out of their way. The monstrous birds continued flapping desperately away from the tunnel’s head and further into the Oakland hills, until they were approximately a hundred feet away. There, they abruptly stopped in confusion, the frightening charm wearing off.

Annabeth knew they had a minute or two at best before the birds returned in full force, so she took the brief calm to fully survey her surroundings. Or, more importantly, what her surroundings were lacking.

“Molly!” Annabeth immediately knew it unwise to yell for it might draw the attention of the birds back to her faster, but her fear couldn’t so easily be restrained. “Molly! Where are you, sweetie?”

Her gaze darted back to Piper, who was still standing at the center of the tunnel’s entrance. In their haste, Piper had had no time to arm herself with a weapon, but Annabeth knew how cutting her words alone could be— the currently cowering birds all the proof necessary. Plus, the entire legion was at most a minute away from charging down the tunnel, guns a blazing.

The two locked eyes, and in a matter of seconds, an entire conversation transpired between them. Piper gave her a nod and Annabeth was off.

There were no signs of where the girl might’ve gone, so Annabeth took a gamble and darted around the left side of the tunnel.

“Molly,” she called again, turning a corner. Piper and the horde of Stymphalian birds faded from view. Yet, she had unfaltering confidence that her friend would be alright. Her number one priority was finding Molly.

The path was on a steep, steady incline and Annabeth felt herself growing short of breath quickly. She had a hard time believing that Molly could have gotten this far from the tunnel’s entrance, but she had no better plan than to keep going. So, she trekked onward, running and calling Molly’s name all the way. The further uphill she climbed, the more wooded and uneven the terrain became.

In her frantic, overexerted mind, Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like to all the mortals driving through the Caldecott tunnel on their evening commutes, a lone woman desperately running through the Oakland hills. It also crossed her mind that she felt remarkably out of breath, her usual endurance failing her. I am in my twenties now, Annabeth thought, maybe I need to start going to yoga with Piper more often.

“Molly,” she tried calling again, voice hoarse. Annabeth slowed to a stop, deciding it was time to turn around and look elsewhere for Molly. Yet, upon stopping, it rapidly became clear to Annabeth she wasn’t just tired, no, something was wrong.

Wobbly on her feet— the fault of her damned ankle that just hadn’t been quite the same since its break in Rome— Annabeth put her arm out to prop herself up against a tree.

While running, she hadn’t been able to feel the full force of the pounding in her head and the heaviness in her lungs. Now, standing still and leaning up against a tree, it was all she felt.

Annabeth tried to push herself off the bark of the tree, determined to keep moving, for Molly’s sake if not her own, but she wasn’t so lucky. Dizzy, she fell to her knees, too lightheaded to fully grasp what was happening to her and why.

“Percy,” Annabeth called out, brain fuzzy. Her ace, her anchor in a storm.

Her vision started to fade, but in her mental fog, Annabeth wasn’t worried. She felt a warm presence around her, cloaking her. She could’ve sworn she heard a voice whisper a response to her cry.

“Annabeth…”

_____________________

When Annabeth awoke, the first thing she became aware of was the pounding ache in her head. The second was that she was no longer passed out on top of a grassy hill, but instead lying flat on cold stone in what appeared to be a small, rocky cave. But it was her third observation that was by far the strangest.

“Finally, you’re awake,” it said, their voice deep and unfamiliar.

Annabeth sat up so fast that her head spun, blurring her vision of the mystery figure.

“Dizzy?” They asked in a tone that Annabeth detected no malice in, helping slightly to calm her nerves. “Sorry, I forgot to mention that divine travel has been known to cause sickness in mortals.”

Annabeth brought her palms to her eyes, gently massaging them. “Wait, you said divine travel? So you must-”

When Annabeth removed her hands, nothing could have prepared her for the strange manlike creature that stood before her.

From the torso up, he was rather normal looking. With his dark, olive complexion and muscular build, he could almost be considered handsome. His hair and beard were a deep brown, his head adorned with a bronze laurel.

But, from the waist down was where all the oddities occurred, as where the man’s legs should’ve begun, a giant scaly snake’s tale sprouted instead. A sickly shade of yellow, the snake tail curled in a spiral, coming to a thin point at the end.

The mystery man— though Annabeth wasn’t quite sure he could be considered simply a man— appeared affronted by her stunned silence. “Is that anyway to greet your brother?”

Brother? Annabeth’s still aching head reeled. But sure enough, when she looked up to finally meet the creature’s eyes, she was met with a familiar stormy gray.

“You’re my brother? Who-”

Yet as Annabeth took in his odd serpentine form, a memory pulled itself from the recesses of her mind and started to piece itself together. A story involving a rather unorthodox conception and a half-serpent king of Athens.

“You’re Erichthonius.”

She should’ve put it together sooner, but her brain was still operating on a lag after being divinely knocked out and transported to— well she wasn’t exactly sure where she was now, but she knew she wasn’t in New Rome anymore. Plus, the myth of Erichthonius had always been one that she had avoided because, to put it plainly, it was gross. As the story went, Hephaestus had fallen madly in love with Athena and made an attempt to seduce her. As a virgin goddess, Hephaestus’s efforts to woo Athena failed. Yet, in her mother’s attempt to fight off the blacksmith god, some of his semen had fallen onto her thigh. Athena had wiped it away with a piece of cloth, from which magically, Erichthonius was born.

Athena, taking pity on that bizarre, grotesque baby, decided to take him into her care, under which he became the goddess’s perfect legacy, known for his wisdom and innovation. As king of Athens, Erichthonius had invented the silver Athenian coin and the four-horse chariot. Now, he acted as Athena’s immortal lieutenant. Few besides the children of the goddess herself knew that Erichthonius existed, as he was such a reclusive figure, a clever snake hiding in the shadows. Annabeth was aware of the fact that since she was seeing and speaking to him face-to-face, something must be terribly wrong.

“Indeed, and you are Annabeth, the finest of Athena’s living children. I have heard much about you,” he replied.

In her current situation, unsure of where she was and what was at stake, Annabeth decided the wisest course of action was to remain amiable. “And I about you. I must admit though, I believe your birth tops mine on the weirdness scale.”

Annabeth had been making an attempt at humor to lighten the mood, but Erichthonius blushed and cast his gray eyes downward. “I don’t like to speak about my birth.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “We must not lose focus. Our lady has brought us together because she requires our assistance. An ancient foe has returned-”

Annabeth’s brain stopped functioning, running rampant at what ancient foe entailed. Oh gods, she thought, I’ve already been transported, where am I? Her stomach twisted painfully at the memory of Percy being transported across the country by Hera. What if she had already been transported across the world, to the ancient lands to face yet another ancient foe on behalf of the gods, forcibly torn away from Percy once again?

“Where are we?” Annabeth demanded, peering out of the rocky cave at the hilly, yellowish grassland. The terrain was not familiar to her.

“Worry not, we are just at the Vasco Caves, not far from San Francisco. It is best that I stay hidden in the caves and shadows of wherever our lady sends me.”

His voice was so wistful that Annabeth almost felt bad about how much anger and resentment invaded her tone, but not so bad that she made any attempt to restrain it. “But why kidnap me? Why not just come to New Rome and ask for my help? I was busy when I was taken, poor Molly, what if-”

“I did not kidnap you,” Erichthonius cut her off, frustrated. “Our lady simply gave me my orders, told me where to go, and that she’d send her finest demigod child to assist me. That’s you. If you have issues with how you were brought here, that does not pertain to me. But I for one, never doubt the wisdom of our mother. Perhaps she thought you would not assist if I simply asked for your help.”

“That’s not fair,” Annabeth tried to protest, but Erichthonius continued on.

“As for that ‘poor girl’ you speak of, I assure you she is fine. Knowing our lady, she must have strategically used the girl as a decoy to lure you away. No matter the angle from which you view this predicament, the fact of the matter is that Athena has brought you here. She has chosen you to defend her honor. Now, will you listen to our orders?”

Annabeth’s insides were fuming, practically boiling. Hadn’t she done enough? Her hero days were supposed to be over. Couldn’t this fall on the shoulders of some other child of Athena? Why must it be her and always her?

Yet, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, it was impossible to deny the twinkle of pride she felt. Her mother had chosen her, picked her. Finest of Athena’s children.

But underneath all that conjecture, the one thing Annabeth knew for certain was that nothing else mattered more than getting back to Percy. Standing in that cave, head ringing and in the presence of her half-serpent brother, the only thing keeping her upright was the knowledge that Percy was close by. She would get to him by any means necessary. But without her cellphone on her and still feeling the effects of divine motion sickness, Annabeth had no better idea than to play along for the time being.

Really, there was no other option than to lift her shoulders, square her jaw, look Erichthonius directly in the eye and nod.

“Spectacular. I believe we’ll make an excellent team.”

“So where is this ancient foe?” Annabeth asked, pulling her knife from her belt. That was the only thing that had seemed to carry over with her when she was transported here, most definitely done on purpose by her mother, Annabeth thought spitefully.

“That’s the easy part. In the city.”

“You mean San Fran?” Annabeth had been in the city just that morning for her internship and she definitely would have noticed if any Ancient Greek monsters had been running around.

“Yes. They are contained for the time being, still weak, but their power is growing fast. They must be dealt with now,” Erichthonius said, drawing a long, celestial bronze spear that had been slung across his back.

“So who is this ancient foe? I wanna get this over with,” Annabeth sighed.

“Necarah.”

Annabeth choked back a laugh. Surely he couldn’t mean that stupid fast-fashion clothing store Piper had mentioned earlier? It was too coincidental; he must be playing a joke on her. Yet, Erichthonius’s gray eyes stayed trained on her, as if he were testing her, judging her intelligence, and Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder if this is how others felt under her gaze.

“Think, Annabeth. Athena has chosen you for a reason.”

At first she didn’t get it, and then she did, and she immediately wished she could go back to before she understood. Her nausea came to a breaking point and she turned and gagged, but nothing came up. Her stomach was empty. Unlike her mind, which was speeding ahead in pure unadulterated fear. She needed Percy.

Because she understood what Necarah meant. It was Athena’s ancient foe, as well as Annabeth’s. The letters rearranged themselves in her head. N E C A R A H-

“Arachne.”

_____________________

At first, Percy was not worried at all. When Frank came in at the end of his lesson to round up the students to fight some monsters storming the tunnel, Percy was perfectly calm. From his years of leading Camp Jupiter’s sword fighting class, he knew in full confidence that the legionaries could handle a swarm of Stymphalian birds, no problem.

Nor was he particularly worried when he ran into Hazel on his way out of Camp and she told him that Annabeth and Piper had gone out to help. It might delay their dinner plans, but that was it. His girlfriend could take down an entire arena of those stupid bird monsters solo if she wanted to.

At first, Percy decided to wait just outside of camp for Annabeth and Piper to return. But after a few minutes of waiting, Percy remembered that waiting was not one of his strong suits and decided to venture down the tunnel behind the legion’s soldiers to see if he could be of any assistance. Yet, just as he expected, by the time he made it out, a thin layer of monstrous dust covered the Oakland hills, the remains of what had once been the swarm of Stymphalian birds. Much of the legionnaires were already turning around, heading back down the tunnel and into Camp Jupiter, totally unfazed.

The first prickle of what might be worry first hit him when he saw Piper, Frank, and Hazel huddled together a few feet away from the tunnel’s head, the presence of a particular blonde notability absent.

Upon seeing him approach, Piper smiled and informed him, “Annabeth went to look for Molly. She was on guard duty and we’re not sure where she went.”

And just like that, the prickle of anxiety was gone. Piper didn’t sound worried at all. Plus Percy knew all about Annabeth’s sisterly affection for Molly, so it made perfect sense for Annabeth to volunteer to look for her. Nothing was out of the ordinary, no need to fear.

Percy nodded before asking, “Is everyone okay”

“Yeah,” Frank said, relief written across his face. “It could’ve been way worse, we got lucky.”

Hazel nodded in agreement. "Super lucky we had someone to keep those birds in check until we could get out here,” she said, shifting her focus onto Piper.

Piper made a waving gesture with her hand and sighed, “Oh, that was nothing.”

“No, it was definitely something,” Frank said with a grateful smile. “Now, I better make sure everyone gets back to their barracks. Hazel, you guys should probably go help Annabeth look for Molly.”

Hazel opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the sound of rustling from behind them caused them all to turn. Out of pure instinct, Percy already had his pen out of his pocket and in hand, ready to pop the cap. But instead, they were met with the sight of a small, ginger haired girl clamoring down from a tall tree a few feet away.

“Is the coast clear?”

“Oh, Molly!” Hazel exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” she said, jumping from the lowest branch and landing on her feet with a thud. “I knew that there were too many to take on alone, so I decided to climb a tree and hide until you came. I’m very good at climbing,” she explained with a proud smile.

For all her pride, Molly really did remind Percy of a little Annabeth. A glimpse at what their future daughter may be like. Usually, under different circumstances Percy would’ve complimented the girl on her intelligence and climbing abilities, but the return of that prickling worry caused him to instead demand, “So where is Annabeth?”

“Oh, we have to go get her!” Piper blurted. “She must be going out of her mind looking for Molly.”

So, Piper, Hazel, and him set out across the surrounding hills to look for Annabeth. Percy kept reminding himself that Annabeth was okay. She wasn’t in danger; she was just out looking for Molly. He knew Annabeth and he knew she wouldn’t give up until she found the girl. She was just looking for Molly, she was not in danger.

But he didn’t believe that. The growing prickle of worry and anxiety in his gut wouldn't let him believe it. Something just felt wrong. He could feel it in the odd heaviness the air through the hills carried, the way each breath he took felt labored.

And as it would turn out, his gut was correct. After a near hour of searching, they did not find Annabeth; but they did find her tote bag abandoned at the base of a tree atop one of the hills. Her sketchbook, cellphone, and wallet remained inside. The only thing Percy noticed that was unaccounted for was her knife, which did nothing to calm his intensifying panic.

“Annabeth!” He didn’t recognize the sound of his voice. It sounded too weak, too wavering.

All of the sudden he was fourteen again, kneeling in the snow and watching Annabeth fall over the side of the cliff, useless to help her. The panic, the anger, the disbelief, it was all the same, only magnified by a tenfold. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not anymore. They had saved the world and survived into adulthood. When Percy found Annabeth-- he would find her, there was no other alternative, no place he wouldn’t go for her-- he swore on the River of Styx he would be having some very strong words with the Fates and their plans.

“We need to get back to camp.” He heard a voice behind him, their words echoing around in his head as if he were underwater.

The feeling of a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality, a reality where he wasn’t fourteen, but a twenty-year-old junior in college that didn’t know where Annabeth was. Reality caved in on him, much like the mud he had almost drowned in years ago. He wanted to do something, to scream, but he felt weighed down, compressed.

“Hey,” Piper said, her voice laden with soothing charmspeak. “Let’s get back to camp. We can figure out where to go from there.”

Percy let Piper grab his hand and led him down the hill and toward the tunnel entrance, the setting sun casting an inappropriately cheery glow on the Californian landscape. Percy made a mental note to kick Apollo’s ass the next time he saw the god.

Hazel followed behind them, wordless and posture stiff. Piper, to her credit, remained a calm composure, making sure to keep a soft and soothing tone as she directed Percy down the hill. Although, when he caught a glimpse of her eyes, he could see the true depth of her panic.

In a total haze, he was ushered by Piper and Hazel through the tunnel and into the Praetor’s House. A chair at the room's central desk was pulled out for him and he practically had to be pushed to sit down in it. His body was not operating properly, his mind clogged up trying to process the situation.

He was half aware of Hazel leaving the room, leaving the large wooden doors slightly ajar. Piper took a seat in the chair next to him and tried for a comforting, “Hey, this is Annabeth. We know she’ll be okay, she can handle herself.”

As if his confidence in Annabeth was what was in question. He did not fear that Annabeth was alone without protection; he feared that he was alone without her. She wasn’t supposed to get away from him ever again.

Percy wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Anger, sadness, depression, panic, all at once. The cacophony of emotions had a paralyzing effect on him. He stayed glued to his chair as Piper failed to charmspeak him into a clearer state of mind.

With the sound of the heavy door clicking shut, Hazel and Frank appeared and rushed to join them at the desk.

“Okay so,” Hazel started, emotions temporarily disguised under her commanding praetor voice. “Piper, what exactly happened? Did you see where Annabeth went?”

Piper busied herself with picking at her cuticles and recounted, “Everything was normal, we were fighting the birds. I had just gotten them to retreat when we noticed Molly wasn’t there, so Annabeth went to look for her while I stayed to hold off the monsters. She ran to the left, but that’s really all I saw. It was only another minute or so before you guys got there,” Piper shrugged. “There’s no way Annabeth could’ve gotten that far that fast on foot.”

“She didn’t. A god took her.” Percy’s voice came out much deeper than usual and with a surprising amount of conviction, causing his three friends to share a concerned look. Percy was equally unsure where his confidence had come from, but godly interference was the only conclusion to draw.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Frank said, putting his palms up in a placating gesture.

“Actually,” Hazel interjected, voice soft. “I think we do.” The three shot her questioning glances before she sheepishly continued, “I didn’t want to say anything before, not while we were outside of the camp’s borders, but I could sense the presence of divine magic out there on the hills. Very strong magic.”

Piper nodded. “I think I know what you’re talking about. Something about being out there made my head feel all cloudy.”

Percy didn’t interject to say as much, but he had felt the same odd, dizzying sensation out on the hills.

“Okay, so we know someone or something with magic took her, but we don’t know for certain that it was a god,” Frank clarified.

“We do. No one else would be strong enough to take Annabeth like that,” Percy rebuked.

“I think the more important question is how do we find her?” Piper asked. “Should we send out search parties?”

Hazel nodded. “It’ll be sundown in less than an hour, we better get a start.”

“Of course,” Frank agreed. “We’ll have the entire legion scouring the hills and woods for her. We’ll find her, Percy.”

Percy wanted to thank Hazel and Frank for being such great praetors and rising to the occasion. He also wanted to express his gratitude to Piper for being so comforting and gentle. Yet, in his gut, he knew all their combined efforts were futile. “We won’t find her this way.”

“Well then, you got a better idea?” Piper asked, her calm composure starting to fade in turn for worry presenting itself through cruel bitterness. “Or should we just all sit around and brood?”

Percy squared his jaw, at a loss for thought. Annabeth was the planner, not him. He felt utterly helpless.

“Well, she doesn’t have her phone..” Hazel interrupted, determined to keep everyone at the table level-headed. “How about Iris message?”

It was so obvious, Percy couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. “Does anyone have any Dracmas on them?”

“I should have-” Frank trailed off, opening the top drawer of the desk to riffle through. “Aw! Here,” he said, holding up the golden coin for them all to see.

Percy leaned across the desk and snatched it out of Frank’s hands. “And a rainbow?

“Hmm,” Piper sighed, reaching up to unclasp her quartz necklace. “I knew getting these necklaces would come in handy.” She crossed the room, holding her necklace up in front of the window, the setting sunlight shining through the clear quartz to cast a rainbow.

Not getting up from his chair, Percy held the coin between his fingers and flicked it into the rainbow. “O’ Goddess, please accept my offering. Show me Annabeth Chase.”

The coin disappeared with a flash of light, which grew into a misty, colorful cloud. Yet, instead of developing an image of Annabeth, the mist remained blank, unable to connect. As if she had simply disappeared from the face of the Earth. She was completely shielded from his view.

“What does that mean?” Percy heard Frank whisper under his breath, meant only for Hazel to hear. And suddenly it was all too much for Percy to handle.

Anger won out the confused battle of emotions in his head, and just like that, he was no longer paralyzed. With his newfound mobility he stood up so abruptly that his chair tipped over, hitting the floor with a harsh crash. He couldn’t sit around and wait anymore, he had to do something, anything.

“Percy, where are you-” but he was already too far away to hear the end of that sentence. He thought the answer should be quite self-explanatory, really. He was going wherever Annabeth was.

Anger was at the helm now, and it would stay that way until he knew that Annabeth was safe. He would climb to Olympus or plummet into Tartarus, armed with nothing but spite if so required. No god or goddess could hide her from him. His loyalty to Annabeth’s side was as unfaltering as solid stone, longer lasting than a god’s grudges. 

He had made it out of camp and halfway across the Fields of Mars when the mist materialized before him, gathering and swirling to life from pure air and glints of sun. An Iris message. 

Slowly, the image came into focus, revealing princess curls and fearful gray eyes. Annabeth..  

He drank her in, feeling utterly refreshed. “Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?” 

“Yes, no, it’s a long story.” In her usual stormy eyes, Percy saw something much worse developing. A hurricane, a tornado, a disaster on the horizon. “Now listen up, we don’t have much time.” 

_____________________ 

Annabeth listened to their orders intently, silently. She refrained from interrupting to complain or insert her opinions. 

She held her tongue and took in Erichthonius’s plan, running it through in her head. They’d first need to invade Necarah’s eyesore of a warehouse in the city and take down the store website because, as Erichthonius explained, with each order placed, Arachne’s power grew. He would then finish off Arachne while Annabeth was there to reinforce him. After that, Annabeth goes back home to New Rome. 

“If we don’t put a stop to her now and this Necarach ruse continues to grow, so does Arachne’s web. With each patron, she gains more strength, more power, and soon enough Necarah shops will be popping up nationwide, then worldwide. And once she has all this power, who do you think will be at the very top of her revenge list?” 

“Me.” 

“Yes,” Erichthonius said with a smile that Annabeth couldn’t understand. There was nothing to smile about. “And me, and every other child of Athena. And then mother herself, and then-” 

“I get it. Don’t forget I’ve taken on Arachne once before.” Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the strange man-snake mutant before her, her nerves and patience quickly being worn thin. 

“How could I forget? The only demigod who can claim as much that is still breathing,” he raised a dark eyebrow at her, as if he were searching for something in her. “That is precisely why you’re here.” 

As much as Annabeth didn’t want to be there, which was a lot, she knew that he was right. If she didn’t go after Arachne now, Arachne would come after her, putting an end to the peace she had fought so violently to achieve. Annabeth had taken on and beaten Arachne once before. She couldn’t trust some other young hero of Athena to do this. She had to defend her own future. Pride be damned, she was the finest of Athena’s children. "Okay.” 

“Okay?” He quirked his eyebrow even higher. Annabeth hated the feeling of being dissected in another’s gaze. 

“Okay, I’ll help you. But I have two conditions.” 

“A negotiation?” Erichthonius scoffed, but there was something pleased about his expression. As if he had finally found what he was looking for in Annabeth. 

“Condition one- you must swear on the river of Styx that this is the last time I’ll ever be dragged into dealing with Arachne.” 

“The river of Styx, huh? You really are a smart one,” he smiled at her, and for the first time, Annabeth saw a glimmer of personality in him, a personality other than just an obedient soldier. “So surely you understand how unwise it would be for me to take that oath. I’ll swear on the river of Styx that I will never force you to face Arachne again after this, but I cannot speak for our lady and I will not swear on her behalf. Though, I can also promise you that I’ll implore her to take a similar oath once we’re finished here. How is that?” 

“Hmm,” Annabeth hummed, and though she would not show it, part of her was enjoying this exchange of wits. “I accept.” 

“Perfect, now-” 

“As for my second condition,” Annabeth interjected, voice firm. “Before we go, I must speak to Percy. I don’t care how you make it happen, but I will not help you unless you let me talk to him first.” 

Annabeth did not for a moment question whether Erichthonius knew who Percy was. As Athena’s lieutenant, if he knew of Annabeth, he had surely heard of Percy too. They were a package deal, two sides of a perfectly balanced scale. 

“Our lady has never approved of this Percy,” Erichthonius smirked. “Believe me, I have heard much. But if that is your condition, sister, then so be it.” 

Seeming to materialize from thin air, Erichthonius tossed her a drachma. 

“Daylight's fading, make it quick.” 

Annabeth gave a curt nod and rushed out of the rocky cave, in desperate need of a rainbow. While she had once been skeptical about getting matching necklaces with Piper, she made a mental note to proclaim her friend’s genius later as she reached around to unclasp her clear quartz necklace. The perfect stone for bending light into rainbows. 

Ducking out of the cave, Annabeth got the first real glance at her surroundings. She had heard Erichthonius say that they were at the Vasco Caves, which she knew just enough about to know that they weren't too far away from New Rome, but she had never been before. 

She surveyed the area, backlit by the orange glow of the setting sun. She stood in the midst of steep, rocky cliffs, fading into hilly grassland in the distance, horizon spotted with wind turbines. All around her, the rocks came together to form dome shaped caves, just like the one Erichthonius had them holed up in. The further down the treacherous slope she climbed, Annabeth came across a series of sallow, cliffside vernal pools. It was there, beside one of these pools that she decided to sit down, pulling her knees close to her chest. Over the years, Annabeth’s heart had grown fond of water in its many natural forms. Its presence had a calming effect on her racing mind.  

Still seated, Annabeth wrapped the chain of her necklace around her wrist and held it up to the sky, the sun’s remaining light casting a faint rainbow across the still water of the rocky pool. Just what she needed to send a message. 

“O’ Goddess, please accept my offering,” she said, tossing the coin into the water, where it rippled, then disappeared in a flash of rainbow-colored smoke. “Show me Percy Jackson.” 

The water shifted, mixing with the mist to form the shape of a young man with wind tossed, dark hair and familiar sea green eyes. Percy, her soul sighed at the mere image of him. 

From the way the edges of the Iris message frantically shifted, she could tell that Percy was moving, and quickly. She recognized the Field of Mars in the background. She watched his beautiful face, so expressive and earnest as it morphed from fear, to confusion, to recognition, to finally relief once he caught sight of her. She could read him so well, his emotions and thoughts written so clearly across face, he’d forever be her favorite book. 

“Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?” He said, all in one breath. 

At the sound of his voice, she felt every single muscle in her body relax, the tension oozing out of her like a poison. For a reason she could not name, Annabeth suddenly felt close to tears. “Yes, no, it’s a long story.” She swallowed it down and remembered her mission. “Now listen up, we don’t have much time.” 

“What does that mean? What’s going on, Beth?” She could hear the fear returning to his voice, an ugly, palpable thing. 

“My mother, she took me. She-” 

“I knew it! I knew the gods had to be involved. That explains the divine magic Hazel was talking about. Where’d she take you? I swear on the river of Styx-” 

“Let me explain,” Annabeth cut him off before the rage contorting his face could lead him to make any dangerous declarations. “I’m not far away, so don’t worry.” 

At that, the tight clench of his jaw eased just the slightest bit. At least they didn’t have another cross-country goddess kidnapping on their hands.

“Mom, Athena, she needs my help dealing with a monster in the city. That’s all,” Annabeth continued, aiming for a calming, nonchalant tone. Whether or not she had achieved it, she was unsure. “I’ll be home before tomorrow morning.” 

“That doesn’t explain why the fuck she kidnapped you? Couldn't some other child of Athena deal with it for her? You’ve done more than enough for her already.” 

“It wasn’t so much kidnapping as it was divine transportation,” Annabeth explained. No matter how she tried to separate herself from the gods and the mythological, her youthful self’s instincts to always defend her mother were deeply ingrained.  “And he said that she needed her best demigod child, so that means-” 

Percy furrowed his brow, struggling to keep up. “What he? Who is he? You’re not alone?” 

“Oh, I forgot to mention, Erichthonius is here.” 

“Eric thony who?” 

“Erichthonius. Do you remember that story about Hephaestus and Athena’s weird cloth snake-baby?” 

“Kinda?” Percy responded. 

“Well, that’s him. He’s my half-brother and Athena’s lieutenant. He’s here to help me, or more like I’m here to help him.” 

“Are you sure you can trust him?” Percy cocked his head at her with such concern that Annabeth couldn’t help but find the gesture adorable. “And what monster?” 

Annabeth’s face went sheet white. There was no reason to lie to him, but something in her heart compelled her to hide the full truth from him. The memory of the last time she had faced Arachne seized her, and the plummeting way that had ended. For Percy’s sake, she couldn’t tell him until it was over with. And though she wouldn’t admit it, it was partly for her sake as well. This will not be like the first time, she reminded herself. 

“Annabeth? What is it, Wise Girl?” Percy asked at her silence, tone soft yet laced with fear. 

“Oh, just a large horde of monsters hanging out at some clothing warehouse in San Fran. With it being so close to Camp Jupiter, we fear it may become a bigger issue if we don’t deal with it immediately.” Annabeth lied through her teeth. 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” and something in his tone made it clear to Annabeth that he knew she wasn’t being entirely forthcoming. “What is there that is so bad that it needs a Goddess’s lieutenant and you to deal with?” 

“I already told you, Seaweed Brain. Just a horde of monsters.” Annabeth tried for a smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 

If he could believe it was that simple, maybe then she could too. At the very least, she didn’t want to worry him as much as she knew that the truth would. 

Percy was silent for a beat and Annabeth studied his face, trying to gauge if he had bought it or not. Her results came back inconclusive. “Will you tell me where this warehouse is?’ 

She considered evading this question as well, but at the last second, she thought better of it. It would be wise to tell him, Annabeth thought, in the circumstances something goes wrong. “In San Francisco. The warehouse is for a clothing brand named Necarah’s.” 

“Necarah’s?” Once again, he cocked his head in that adorable way, and even in her panic, she could feel her heart melting. 

“Yeah, Piper will recognize the name.” Suddenly, Annabeth had a vision of Percy rushing in to save her. She remembered the way that had ended the last time she had faced Arachne. She wouldn’t let that happen again, she wouldn’t. “But stay where you are. You don’t need to come save me. I’ll be fine.” 

A dubious expression crossed Percy’s face, but Annabeth did not have time to dissect it, because at the sound of slithering behind her, Annabeth whipped around to see Erichthonius slowly approaching her, bronze spear in hand. 

“We must go, night approaches,” he called. 

Annabeth turned back to face Percy. To her dismay, the Iris message was already starting to fade as the rainbow grew fainter across the water’s surface, Percy fading from her grasp. “I have to go. Please don’t worry, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” 

“Annabeth I-” Even in the clearing mist, Annabeth could see the struggle on his face. It was the same struggle she was fighting to contain. There was so much more to say but the present offered no time to say it. So instead, he said, “I love you, too.” 

And then, as was tradition, they both leaned forward to end the Iris message in a kiss. When she pulled away and Percy’s image was gone, she made a silent promise to herself that she’d get back to Percy so she could kiss him again for real. 

Then, with renewed vigor, she stood up, brushed the dust from her pants and turned to face Erichthonius. “Let’s get this over with.” 

_____________________ 

So, that’s how Annabeth found herself in a chariot, pulled by four white Pegasi, flying over the city of San Francisco on a Friday night. In the company of the half-snake, half-human creature who just so happened to be her brother. 

Watching the sun dip below the horizon, Annabeth imagined that if her night had gone as she had planned it to, her dinner with Percy and Piper would be wrapping up just about now. They would’ve said goodbye to Piper, and then since the night was still young, her and Percy would have strolled hand and hand through New Rome’s gardens until the sun completed its westward journey. Afterwards, they would head back to their shared apartment and pop some microwave popcorn for their Friday movie night, as was tradition. It was Percy’s week to pick. 

But instead, she was flying into battle on an impromptu quest for her mother with her serpentine half-brother at her side. So any lingering hopes for dinner with friends, a romantic garden walk, and movie night filled with warm blankets and cuddles had to be forgotten for the time being.

“Steady,” Erichthonius called, tightening his grip on the reins. 

The Pegasus on the far right side bucked in opposition, causing the chariot to tilt ever so slightly, throwing Annabeth off balance. Had she not been holding on to the iron bars that ran along the sides of the cart, she might have fallen right out the back. 

“Good thing I don’t have a fear of heights,” she breathed. 

“I apologize. I’ve never seen Olive act so skittish,” he said, glaring at the offending Pegasus. 

“It’s alright,” Annabeth assured him, though she made a point to hold on even tighter, her knuckles turning white around the bar. “So you’ve named them? The Pegasi, I mean.” 

“Oh,” Erichthonius exhaled something between a laugh and a sigh. “The left two are Pallas and Forge. That one there,” he said, nodding to the Pegasus on the middle right side, “is Fifi. And the one causing trouble over there is Olive.” 

Olive snorted, and Annabeth didn’t need to be fluent in horse like Percy to know that their words were the type that would result in a mouth full of soap. 

“Did you know I invented the quadriga myself back when I was the king of Athens?” 

Quadriga, meaning four horse chariot, just as the one they were in, Annabeth recalled. 

“I did,” Annabeth nodded. “An inventor and a strategist. The perfect mix of Athena and Hephaestus, aren’t you?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” and at the apprehension in his voice, she turned to look at his face, dark and weather worn. “I mean, I suppose he is my father, but I have never really considered him to be as such. Athena is my mother, she is the one who raised me.” 

She is the one who raised me . Annabeth felt a cosmic pit of jealousy open in her stomach, causing her to look away and retreat into herself. As a lonely girl thrust into a world of gods and monsters, all she had wanted was for her mother to love her. To be raised by somebody, goddess or not. A hunger, a desire that had led her straight into the palm of Luke’s hand all those years ago. 

In a way, she supposed, she had earned her mother's love. Here she was, the proclaimed finest demigod child of Athena, standing next to Athena’s pride. Her lieutenant, the child she had raised. 

Yet, he was being carted off to fight their mother’s battle, all the same. 

As quickly as it had come on, the jealousy was extinguished by a sense of affiliation with this strange man. She looked back to him once more, wanting to say something to fill the silence between them, but was met with a melancholic expression that he had not been wearing before.  

“What’s the matter?” 

Her words seemed to startle him, snapping him out of a trance like state. Erichthonius removed his gray eyes from the city skyline they had been so enticed by to glance at Annabeth. “Hmm, oh it’s nothing, it’s just-”.  A conflicted expression crossed his face, as if he was trying to determine how much he should share. After all, Annabeth was still a practical stranger. “I just haven’t been out in a big mortal city in... well, a while. This skyline, it’s almost beyond Olympus.” 

He trailed off and when the silence settled over them, it was clear to Annabeth that Erichthonius didn’t want to talk anymore. He was too busy taking it all in. 

Annabeth recalled something he had said earlier, something about always staying hidden in caves and shadows. She hadn’t thought much of it before, her mind already filled to the point of near implosion. But now, seeing the gradient of awe and yearning in his eyes, Annabeth’s heart ached for him; and her heart ached for her younger self, shut away from the world in the magical borders of camp half blood. Maybe she had much more in common with this brother of hers than she had originally thought. 

But Annabeth didn’t get to stay lost in thought for long, because all of the sudden the four Pegasi were all pulling and veering in different directions, jostling the chariot cart so thoroughly that if Annabeth had gotten to eat dinner, she probably would’ve thrown it up. 

“Whoa,” Erichthonius shouted, tugging tight on the reins to slow them to a stop. “They must sense something, we have to be close.” 

Annabeth, who up until that point had not been paying much attention to where they were, leaned over the side of the cart to see the checkerboard city streets of San Francisco. And just up ahead, another block away on the corner, was the big, blocky Necarah warehouse. 

“There,” she said, pointing toward the warehouse. “We should probably put down here and walk the rest of the way.” 

Erichthonius nodded. “I don’t believe they’re making it any further,” he sighed, glaring at the mutinous Pegasi. 

Slowly, they descended through the clouds, landing beside a cluster of dumpsters behind a large brick building. Once they stepped off the chariot, Annabeth dizzy as her feet hit the pavement, Erichthonius’s pegasi flew away, cart in tow. He didn’t seem too worried about their departure so she assumed he could call them back when necessary. More so, Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder what any nearby mortals thought they saw, a woman and snake man traveling in the care of four flying horses.  

The two stood there, still and bordering on awkward for a moment before Erichthonius cleared his throat and said, “I suppose you know your way around the city better than I do.” 

“Oh yeah, sorry. Follow me” 

And so they set off through central San Francisco, cutting through an alleyway between two buildings and onto the main sidewalk. It was completely dark out, the sky clear and the moon nearly full. Yet the city is never truly dark, and the night was aglow with streetlights, stop lights, headlights, and lit up buildings masquerading as stars. 

The pair didn’t have far to go. Just a few hundred feet down the sidewalk, a straight shot. Annabeth clutched her knife close to her chest, expecting monsters to appear as they got closer to Arachne’s lair. They didn’t, though. 

In fact, an eerie calm grew as they got closer to the warehouse. The tall, sterile white walls were so innocuous that Annabeth couldn’t help but wonder if the Necarah/Arachne connection was just a coincidence after all. Which was a ridiculous thought because, as Annabeth reminded herself, coincidences don’t happen, not in my life . 

“So,” Annabeth whispered to Erichthonius once they reached the warehouse, standing safely along its left side where no windows were in view. “What’s the plan to break in?” 

“Let’s scope out the perimeter. Look for any open windows, any unguarded doors.” 

A simple enough plan. The two moved quietly, hugging the side of the building. Annabeth took the lead, crouching and wishing her mother had divinely transported her magical Yankees baseball cap along with her. Being able to turn invisible would really come in handy right about then. 

Annabeth wrapped her fingers around the handle of her knife, preparing to lunge as she peeked around the corner. Surely, surely there would be some sort of creature looming by the front entrance. 

But there wasn’t. 

Instead, there was a pair of large, glass double doors leading into what appeared to be a main lobby and reception area. It was hard to tell, the space dark and vacant. No sign of life. 

Above the door, written in black paint, it read “ Necarah’s Fashion and Silks ” in intricate cursive lettering. This was it, alright. So where were all the monsters? Where was Arachne? 

“This is weird, right?” Annabeth asked, coming from around the corner to stand directly in front of the main entrance. “Arachne is smart, she wouldn’t leave herself so open. This has to be a trap.” 

Erichthonius nodded. “Oh, it’s a trap most definitely.” 

“So, how do you want to play it?” She asked, nervously tapping her fingers on the leather wrap of her blade’s handle. 

He flashed an amused glance at Annabeth, eyebrow raised and gray eyes appraising. “How would you play it, sister?” 

She turned to look back at the empty warehouse entrance. It was so obviously a trap. But then again, Arachne was no idiot. She knew that any child of Athena would be able to recognize such a deliberate ploy to appear unguarded. Anyone with a brain would be expected to avoid it, weary of the orchestrated stillness. Which is precisely why Annabeth knew they had to walk right in. 

“It’s a double bluff,” Annabeth said. “She expects us to see that it’s a trap and take a different entrance. That is what she expects us to do.” 

“So we have to do the unexpected,” he smiled. “Our lady is right about you. You’re an astute one.” 

Annabeth was surprised by how much the compliment meant to her. Older brother or not, she hardly knew this man, barely knew if she could trust him. But those thoughts did nothing to dull the warm pride blooming within her. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat, “now, we have a mega spider bitch to deal with. Shall we?” 

Erichthonius chuckled, lifting his bronze spear. “We shall.” 

They surged forward, side by side, and pushed the door open. With a step, Annabeth entered Arachne’s den for the second time. 

_____________________

Percy paced around the Fields of Mars in the dwindling daylight for a few minutes before he cracked and went to find Piper, Hazel, and Frank again. Wordlessly, he rounded them up and ushered them back into the Praetor’s House, not daring to answer any of the countless questions they were throwing at him until they were in private. 

“What is it, Percy?” Hazel asked, equal parts concerned and irritated. “We were just about to send out our first search party.” 

“Yeah!” Piper chided. “We’re wasting perfectly good time that we could be using to look for her right now.” 

“There’s no need. I already know where she is.” 

“What? How?” Frank questioned. 

“She just Iris messaged me, and who woulda thought, the gods are to blame,” Percy said, palpable cynicism seeping through his voice. “Athena took her.” 

Hazel nodded slightly as if to herself, “Well, that would explain the magic I felt out on the hill.” 

“Okay, so we know Athena took her, but why?” Frank stood, running his fingers along the wooden desktop as if trying to map out the solution. 

“And why like this? ” Piper injected from where she stood by the window, looking out on the expanse of Camp Jupiter. “Why not show up and ask for her help? Why make her disappear?” Piper turned, and when Percy caught her eye, he noticed they were unnaturally dark, void of their usual collage of color. 

“Oh, trust me. I’d like to ask Athena the exact same thing,” he sneered. “And Annabeth was being really weird about the full thing. It sounds like there’s some horde of monsters hanging in a warehouse in the city. And she made a point to tell me not to come help her.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense, though. We have a whole camp full of active legionaries,” Frank gestured toward the window. “Why take Annabeth specifically? And why not send in all the manpower available?” 

Piper shook her head, coming to stand in front of Percy in the center of the room. “You know Annabeth, she would do almost anything Athena asked her to.” Percy was tempted to object simply on account of hating the implication that they were still bound to the gods; but at the same time, he did know Annabeth, and he knew it was true. She had been consumed by this world from a much younger age than he had, and she had spent more than a decade of her life trying to prove herself the best of Athena’s children. That was not something one could just walk away from. No matter how many times he watched Annabeth hate, blame, and curse Athena, he also knew that a part of her would always love her mother. “So why would she steal Annabeth?” 

“I know, it’s weird. I told you, Annabeth was being weird,” Percy sighed, exasperated, reaching up to tug a hand through his messy hair. “And you haven’t even heard the weirdest part yet. She said there was some other guy there that Athena sent to help. His name was like Ericthony or something?” 

He looked to the faces of his friends, hoping one of them would recognize the name, but he was instead met with confused expressions. Great , Percy thought, the one person who always knew what he was trying to say was the one who was missing in action . 

“Well, Annabeth said he’s Athena's lieutenant,” Percy explained, heart aching as he felt the full extent of Annabeth’s absence. “What kind of monster would Athena need to send both her lieutenant and Annabeth to deal with? There’s something she wasn’t telling me.” Annabeth was the best demigod of their generation, Percy really believed that, and he knew Athena believed it too. A simple horde of monsters didn’t require that the very best be sent in. 

“Hmm,” Hazel narrowed her eyes, contemplating. “Did she tell you where she was going?” 

“Yeah, some clothing warehouse in San Francisco. She told me the name, damn what was it..” Percy trailed off, brain feeling thoroughly fried. He really was a mess without her. “I know it started with an N. She said you’d know it, Piper.”  

“Oh, Necarah’s!” Piper chimed brightly, happy to finally have a puzzle they could easily solve. “Yeah, we were talking about it earlier. There’re monsters there? I can pull up their website, get the warehouse’s location.” 

She pulled out her phone and typed away. “Yep, here it is. Says their main factory and warehouse is located on the corner of 16th and Guerrero Street.” 

“Can I see the website?” Frank asked, reaching for the phone. 

Piper offered it over without protest. Percy walked around the desk to stand beside Frank, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at Piper’s phone screen. The site seemed innocuous enough. As Frank scrolled through, Percy took in the logo— Necarah written in a fancy, hard to read, cursive font at the top of the page. The background washed in various shades of blue and white, blending into a wall of women’s clothing listings. Nothing about it stood out to Percy. Nothing to suggest what horrible monsters were lurking in the warehouse to which Annabeth was currently heading. 

But it seemed Hazel did not get the same impression. “Oh gods,” Hazel gasped, voice thin with shock. She had ducked her head under Frank’s arm and was staring transfixed at Piper’s phone screen. “Do you guys see what I see?” 

“Umm.. no?” Frank replied sheepishly. 

“What are you talking about?” Piper said, coming to stand behind the desk with the rest of them, all crowded around the tiny phone in Frank’s hands. 

“ Necarah ,” Hazel said, putting emphasis on the name as if that was an explanation. Percy stared at her blankly, as the other two did. “Are you guys seriously not getting it?” 

“No, we’re seriously not,” Percy snapped, growing frustrated. He was used to feeling stupid, in fact, he expected it. He felt comfort in feeling stupid, the same way that there’s comfort in knowing the sun will rise again tomorrow. But it was Annabeth who was usually the one making him feel stupid, and Annabeth wasn’t here right now, and each time he was reminded of that fact, a searing, sharp stab of pain was added to his ever growing stomachache. He didn’t have time to be made to feel stupid right now, he had to find Annabeth. 

“Necarah, it’s an anagram. You have to rearrange the letters. N E C A R A H.” 

First, Percy felt Frank stiffen next to him. And then Piper raised a shaky hand to cover her mouth, dampening a silent scream. But Percy kept staring at the screen, trying to get the stupid, hard to read cursive letters to rearrange. N E C A R A H 

N E C A R A H  

Percy stared until his eyes felt dry and crusty, desperate to see what his friends were seeing. He blinked. And then, all of the sudden he did see. 

It all made sense. Why Athena had wanted Annabeth specifically for this mission. Why Athena had needed to kidnap Annabeth to force her to go. Why Annabeth had been so afraid over the Iris Message, so unwilling to tell him the truth. 

“It’s Arachne,” Percy said aloud, but there was really no point. Everyone knew at that point, understood exactly what this meant for Annabeth. 

Silence didn’t settle over the room, no, it captured it. Restraining their tongues and coding their throats with bitter helplessness. The kind of silence you would expect to find at the center of a hurricane, thick and only breakable by screams. 

But onto top of that, Percy could feel his friends tensing around him. Pushed closed together around the phone, he could physically feel their bodies stiffen and their breathing slow. They were acting with careful delicacy as if he were a wild animal moments away from flying off the handle. Percy resented that unspoken accusation, partly because he knew it was true. The hurricane that he had felt wasn’t closing in, it was pushing out, bursting at the seams to erupt from him in an instinctive fit of anger. 

The anger he felt was so deafening and all encapsulating that he can’t put a name to it. He couldn’t figure out how to act on it without exploding and destroying everything in his line of sight. He didn’t know of any way he could prevent Annabeth from going through what she was being forced to, only further enraging him. 

Annabeth was the only demigod smart enough to best Arachne. And instead of being rewarded for that, she was being sentenced to face her worst fear all over again, and Percy wasn’t there. She had gotten away from him. 

Frank’s large hand on his shoulder snapped him back to where he was. Camp Jupiter. In the Praetor’s House, surrounded by friends. “Hey, Percy, it’ll be alright. She’ll-” Frank tried to reassure him, but a pep talk was the last thing he needed right now. 

What he needed to do was get to Annabeth and get her away from Arachne. So, for the second time that evening, Percy wordlessly fled from the Praetor’s House. But this time, he had a clear destination in mind. 

First, to his and Annabeth’s apartment in New Rome to get his car keys, and then straight to Arachne’s lair. 

But to his dismay, Percy didn’t even make it out of Camp Jupiter before a hand was on his arm, pulling him back. He tugged it away easily and continued on, not even bothering to look back. 

“Would you stop and listen for one second, asshole.” Piper shouted. 

Percy stopped. Stupid fucking charmspeak, he thought. 

“Good,” Piper sighed, out of breath and marching over to stand in front of him, blocking his path. 

“Piper,” Percy exhaled, suddenly exhausted by this entire ordeal. “Get out of my way. I don’t care what Annabeth said, I’m going to get her and you can’t stop me.” 

“Well lucky for you, I wasn’t planning on stopping you.” She cocked a hip and held up her hand, swinging her keyring around her finger. “Getaway driver, at your service.”

Percy narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Look, are you sure you-” 

“Oh, shut up,” she rolled her eyes. “Now, let’s go get our girl back.” 

_____________________ 

So far, her “double bluff” theory seemed to be correct. At least, they hadn’t been jumped or otherwise swarmed by monsters yet. 

The entryway was unreasonably furnished in excess for a warehouse, with golden marble floors and a high ceiling. Plush, white leather couches and armchairs with gold accents were arranged around the perimeter of the room. In the center stood a reception desk made of the same sleek marble slabs that covered the floor. Overhead, hung a single unlit chandler, leaving the space dark, illuminated by splashes of glowing light cascading in from the city outside. 

Annabeth surveyed the space, blood running cold. Her night had taken a turn from completely normal to classic heroics so quickly that she had had no time to fully process the mission before her. But now, in the cold and inhumane warehouse, it was sinking in. Arachne was close. 

Suddenly, Annabeth understood the real reason why Athena had taken her the way she did, whisked her away so fast that she hadn’t had a single moment to stop and think. Because, at her core, Annabeth was a planner; spending weeks aboard the Argo II, locked in her room and stewing over every move Arachne could make, prepping her response to every potential scenario. 

Maybe Athena had thought she was being merciful, throwing her into the middle of the fire without time to register the burn. Maybe it was gracious, but Annabeth couldn’t find it within herself to be thankful. 

It felt as if the walls were closing in on her. The only way out of the entryway was back out the way they came in, or down a pitch black corridor behind the desk, deeper into the metaphorical blaze. Of course, Athena expected her to run straight into the burning building, for what other use did she have for her children? 

Then again, what would come of her brothers and sister if she did just walk away? What would come of her? This wasn’t just some monster, this was Arachne. The hideous creature who had tormented her nightmares for years, who had pulled her, and more importantly Percy, into tartarus. For that, Annabeth wanted her dead. She wanted to be the one to plunge her knife through her venomous heart. 

Stuck between her two waring desires, Annabeth stood frozen solid in the entryway, turning to glance at the doorway back into the city behind her. Yet, as she turned her head, Annabeth caught sight of a previously unnoticed white contraction hanging from the corner of the room, a tiny dot of light blinking red. 

“Erichthonius,” she whispered. He looked back at her from where he stood examining the desk. Slowly, as if her muscles were coated in ice, she nodded toward what was unmistakably a security camera, trained right on them. 

His eyes widened in recognition, coming to grab Annabeth’s hand. Without a second thought, he pulled her down the dark corridor, out of the camera’s view, and closer to Arcahne. 

The further they went, the darker it got, pitch blackness closing in around them. It was impossible to tell how wide the corridor was, and more unnervingly, if anything lurked within it. The darkness seemed to carry a sort of unnatural weight to it, reminding her of Nyx’s mansion of the night. Today is just bringing up all sorts of bad memories , she thought with a shiver.  

If it weren’t for Erichthonius dragging her along, surprisingly fast on his serpent tail, Annabeth would probably still be frozen and staring dumbly up at the surveillance camera until she was swarmed. 

This isn’t like you , she reminded herself. She had once taken on Arachne all by herself on a broken ankle. Now, she was relying on a snake man she barely knew to quite literally pull her through. 

In order for Annabeth to continue on with the life she had planned, the future she dreamt of with Percy, Arachne would have to be dealt with. It was just so hard to reprise her original role as a hero after years of playing at domesticity. 

“Do you hear that?” Erichthonius stopped so abruptly Annabeth crashed into him. 

“What?” She asked, righting herself. 

“Shh,” he hissed. “Listen.” 

With the echoing, heavy sound of their footsteps gone, she heard what Erichthonius was talking about. It was a faint humming sound, the crackle of electricity, and it was close by. 

Annabeth reached out to run her hands along the walls in search of the sound’s source. On the left side she was met with a surprising jolt of cold metal. Resisting the urge to recoil, she was able to determine what she was feeling was a door handle. 

Silently, she leaned in and pressed her ear to the door, listening. No voices, but the source of the instant mechanical droning was on the other side. Annabeth reached over to give Erichthonius a slight tap on the shoulder before readying her knife and cautiously turning the handle, letting the door swing open. 

The first thing Annabeth noticed was a near blinding ray of blue light in direct juxtaposition to the corridor. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the room was small, approximately the size of a storage closet, and unoccupied. She slid her knife back into her belt and stepped into the room to better survey it. It appeared to be some sort of security office, various monitors displaying grainy, blue-tinted live camera footage, clustered and stacked on a wooden desk. In the center of that desk set the incriminator itself, an old desktop computer producing a horrible murmur. 

“What do we have in here?” Erichthonius asked, stepping into the room behind her and closing the door, space suddenly very cramped. 

“Some sort of security office.” Reaching up to power the camera feed off, she sighed, “We’re very lucky that no security guard seems to be on duty.” 

Erichthonius gave her a faint smile. It was clear he was unconvinced. Annabeth was too. It would be horrendously naive to believe that there really was no security lurking somewhere in this dark and expansive warehouse. 

Annabeth was just about to suggest they carry on, but Erichthonius’s attention seemed to be glued on something behind her. The desktop. 

“I have to shut the website down,” he gestured to the computer. “Keep guard, this may take a minute.” 

In the small space, trading spots was rather awkward, but with a fair amount of shuffling Erichthonius managed to make it to the desk and Annabeth leaned against the door.

When Erichthonius first touched the keyboard he flinched slightly, causing Annabeth to urgently ask, “What?” 

“Nothing, just a static shock,” he replied, an audible blush in his voice. Annabeth rolled her eyes. 

 She didn’t quite see the point of “keeping guard” in a room the size of a closet. She presumed Erichthonius was just trying to keep her occupied. It felt like a demotion after all her years of questing. Annabeth was supposed to be the one making the calls, doing the heavy lifting. Annabeth Chase was not the lookout. 

Yet, she couldn’t deny that it was impressive watching his fingers fly across the keyboard as if his ancient grecian hands were molded for it. In seconds, he had hacked himself into the website’s employee portal. It was as if the computer was responding to him, aiding him along; technically he was a child of Hephaestus, so perhaps it was.  

“I think you have more Hephaestus in you than you know,” Annabeth said, tone slightly bitter. Her pride never did let her take well to others being better than her. 

Erichthonius ignored her, scrolling through a list of what appeared to be recent orders. “It’s absurd. There’re nearly a thousand orders just from the past hour.” 

“Arachne's getting what she’s always wanted,” Annabeth whispered to herself. In a way, she could almost sympathize with the spider queen. Annabeth knew a thing or two about the desire to be renowned. Maybe that’s why they made such innate foes; deep down they wanted the same thing, to be worthy of Athena. 

“Her power grows much in the same way as the god’s. Patrons. The source needs to be cut off. A couple more minutes and I’ll have Necarah’s deleted.” 

Annabeth gave a brief nod. So far, the mission was off to a rather seamless start. Perhaps she had overestimated Arachne and her intelligence. The spider was led by her hunger for revenge after all, while Annabeth had something much stronger to preserve her. She had love. A love she’d never stop fighting for. Annabeth had managed to untangle herself from the web of gods and monsters and was starting to build a life next to normal with Percy. This quest- Arachne- was just the last remaining silk string she had to snip away. 

Then, all her carefully contemplated determination flew out the window because a large black spider crawled underneath the door frame and into the small room. Then a second, and then a third, until there were 6 spiders forming a line and advancing straight toward Annabeth. 

In seconds, they had Annabeth backed into the wall. She bit down on her tongue hard, desperate to contain the scream rising in her throat. She couldn’t disturb Erichthonius. Not when he was so close to getting the website shut down; and not to mention how embarrassing it would be, the proclaimed best child of Athena having a meltdown over a few spiders. 

Try all she might, Annabeth had never been able to shake her childhood phobia of spiders. After all, she knew that spiders aren’t harmless. For gods sake, it was the queen of spiders herself who had pulled her straight into hell. But, what Annabeth had gotten better at doing was working through those rushes of fear. 

She has been put on guard duty so that was precisely what she was going to do. How exactly do you fight a spider , Annabeth thought to herself, stab it? 

However, when the first of the spiders reached her and crawled onto her foot, instincts took over. She kicked and stomped wildly, crushing spider after spider as they swarmed in from underneath the door. 

After, when the floor was littered with their crushed tiny black carcasses, Annabeth finally relaxed. Heaving as she came down from the panic, she realized how stupid she must have looked, going into a near catatonic state on account of a couple spiders. 

“Impressive.” At the sound of his voice, Annabeth snapped her head up. He wasn’t looking at the computer anymore, but instead he had the desk chair rotated to face her. To study her. Was he watching me that entire time? “I’ve never been one for spiders,” Erichthonius said. “They give me the heebie jeebies.” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth chuckled breathily, scraping the souls of her shoes across the floor to try and rid them of squashed spider guts. “Me too.” 

Erichthonius stood up. “The website shut down was successful. We best keep moving before they catch on, if they haven’t already.” 

Moving on. Wonderful, Annabeth  thought. Ten or so spiders just about did me in already. But she squared her back, remembering her previous determination to end this, and reached forward to turn the door handle that led them out of the room and back into the dark corridor. 

As it would turn out, they didn’t have much further to go. After another minute or so of traversing down the pitch black hallway, speckles of light took shape before them. The closer they got, Annabeth could see that the hall ended in a pair of industrial doors with perfectly square windows on them. Left of the doors, revealed by the fluorescent light flowing in through the windows, was a singular metal ladder leading upward through the ceiling and into seemingly more darkness. 

“Careful,” Annabeth hissed. She crouched down and gestured for Erichthonius to do the same. Wordlessly the two crept the rest of the way to the door. Annabeth raised to her knees to peer through the doorway’s window. 

Her mind spun, trying to take note of everything she was seeing. The perfect mix of entirely mundane and inexplicably bizarre. The space was large and high ceilinged, dotted with strips of off putting artificial lighting. A sterile room, nearly colorless and filled with what looked to be endless rows of shelving units littered with enormous cardboard boxes. Mortals, all exceeding normal looking, unharmed, and wearing blue polo shirts embroidered with Necarah were weaving in and out between rows, clipboards in hands. It looked to be some sort of storage facility from which orders were processed. Nothing outside of the ordinary from what you’d expect to find in a warehouse. 

Well, except for the near thousand of spiders crawling across the floor and in and out of the cardboard boxes as if they were employees themselves. The mortals seemed to take no notice of them. Some were even working together in pairs, with an employee closing a box to be shipped and a spider wrapping its silk around the box as a bow. 

The only way deeper into the warehouse was through, which presented an entirely new problem. How could a demigod with a celestial bronze knife and a snake-man wielding a spear get through without being noticed? 

“Look,” Erichthonius said, staring at her. Annabeth followed his gaze. A raised metal platform appearing to contain nothing but extra storage space spread across the entirety of the room. No one appeared to be up there and Annabeth could locate no stairway leading to the platform from inside the room. The ladder.

She looked to the ladder once more, leading straight up into seemingly nothingness. Then she looked at Erichthonius, skeptical. When their gray eyes met it was clear they had come to the same conclusion. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We don’t know what could be up there.”  

Erichthonius shrugged. “Aside from walking straight in, it’s the only idea I have.” 

“Alright then, lead the way.” 

Annabeth was curious to see how Erichthonius would climb the ladder, serpent’s tail and all. He slung his spear over his back once more and gripped the bars, propelling himself upward and wrapping his tail around the bars as he went. It was quite impressive really, how efficient he was at it. Annabeth stood, watching in amused perplexity until he had nearly disappeared through the ceiling. 

“Are you coming?” he called. 

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Annabeth called, reaching for the bars. 

The ladder led them up for nearly 20 feet, the textured metal of the bars digging callouses into her hands, much like the long forgotten monkey bars that used to be in her backyard growing up in Virginia. Lacking some of the grace from her teenage years, Annabeth pulled herself through a hatch in the ceiling and onto the second floor. 

Once again, she was enclosed by darkness, just barely able to make out the shape of Erichthonius next to her. They stood on a narrow metal runway that extended in a straight path before them. At the end of the runway stood yet another imposing doorway, outlined by cracks of light slipping through the frame. 

“I’m getting real sick of this place, reminds me of the labyrinth,” Annabeth muttered as they crept toward the door. In the stale darkness, she was reminded of the fact she hadn’t seen a window to the outside world since entering the damned warehouse, how deep in were they? Annabeth couldn’t escape the feeling that they were nothing but rats in Arachne’s maze.  

When they reached the door Erichthonius cracked it and peered through. “It’s clear,” he said, allowing the door to swing open. 

As suspected, it led them to the storage room’s raised platform, lined with rows and rows of cluttered shelves. While the bottom floor was busy with mortals and spiders alike, the platform appeared to be vacant. Still, to play it safe, Annabeth and Erichthonius stuck to the middle, sneaking between two rows of shelves. 

From her vantage point, Annabeth couldn’t help but think that the glimpses she caught of the mortals and spiders pacing back and forth, completing their tasks with such an attentive entrancement looked much like a colony of ants. Small and expendable, nothing but a means to Arachne's end. 

“So,” Annabeth whispered as they continued on, taking small steps to avoid rattling the metal floor. “What is our plan of attack for when we reach Arachne?”

Erichthonius sighed. “Well, Arachne will not be so easily charmed this time around, so we mustn’t rely on our wits. We’ll have to be prepared to fight her head on.” 

Last time Annabeth had faced Arachne she nearly died, and that time around she hadn't even attempted to fight her head on. L

She swallowed down her fear and tightly clenched her jaw in resonation. Athena had brought her here and placed her belief in Annabeth. Yet, honoring her mother was not what mattered most for once; it was killing Arachne and defending the home she was creating. “And we better make sure she stays dead for good this time.” 

Erichthonius huffed out a laugh. “Monsters have a knack for coming back from the dead. But believe me, I intend to do everything in my power to keep her in the pit for as long as possible.” 

“I’m glad we can agree.” 

He breathed out a sigh as the two continued to sneak along the platform. “And I’m glad you agreed to help me at all. I try not to doubt, but I wasn’t completely sure of Mother’s plan. I’m surprised that you didn’t immediately come at me with that knife of yours.”

“Oh, don’t think too highly of me. My reasons for helping are entirely selfish.” 

Erichthonius smiled, “I would think you foolish if they weren’t. Wisdom requires self-preservation.” 

Annabeth was about to respond when the sound of rattling footsteps on the metal ladder leading up to the platform interrupted them. In a second, the two glanced at one other, clever gray on gray, before darting in opposite directions to find a place to hide among the shelves and boxes.

“What was the section again?” A voice said, female. “C4? Alight, be there in a minute.” 

The sound of echoing footsteps on the platform grew louder. Whoever this person was, they were approaching, no doubt about it. Slowly, afraid of making any noise, Annabeth turned her head to examine the shelf she was crouched beside. Naturally, a few feet up, a bright white sign was taped to the wood, unmistakably reading C4. 

“Just my luck,” Annabeth mumbled, readying her knife. 

Will I have to fight her , Annabeth thought. It’s just a mortal, but she does work for Arachne. Do they even know? 

When the footsteps finally stopped before her, she was met with a small, unassuming middle-aged woman with the warmest brown eyes Annabeth had ever seen. When she bent down to sort through the boxes she caught sight of Annabeth, wedged in between the shelf and a box. At first, her forehead creased, face covered in friendly smile lines. “What are-” 

With a blink, a visible haze rolled over her warm eyes, diming them. The veins in her neck seemed to bulge, casting a sickly green color. In a voice that no longer sounded human, the woman growled, “Athenia spawn.” 

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Annabeth was shoved into a corner with nowhere to go, path completely blocked by this woman. Arachne was puppeteering the mortals somehow, that much was clear. A true act of cruelty to bring innocent people into the line of fire. Annabeth didn’t want to have to hurt this woman, but her list of options was running sparse. Then, the woman was opening her mouth, to yell for help no doubt, and there was no choice left but to strike.

But, before Annabeth could so much as stand up, the woman’s eyes rolled back into her head and she crumpled to the floor to reveal Erichthonius standing behind her, raised spear in hand.

“Thanks,” Annabeth exhaled, accepting his hand up. 

“No problem.” 

“No,” Annabeth shook her head. “We have a big problem. Arachne is controlling the mortals somehow-” 

“The mist. She must be controlling the mist.” 

“No, you didn’t see that woman. Her eyes, they changed . It’s like Arachne has found a way to possess them.”

Despite the skeptical look in his eyes, Erichthonius conceded. “I believe you. But this is very bad news, indeed. I was operating under the assumption that this whole ploy was about building power and gaining patrons. But if Arachne has found a way to possess the minds of the mortals who work for her-” 

“Then maybe she can possess the minds of the ones who buy her clothes,” Annabeth finished. 

“Which, to put it bluntly, would be catastrophic.”

Annabeth’s gaze flickered across the platform and to the metal ladder on the opposite side that the woman had appeared from. “Then I suggest we carry on.” 

“A wise suggestion.” Erichthonius propped the unconscious woman up against the shelf, an obvious welt forming on the back of her head, and the two continued on. 

Not wanting to capture any more unwanted attention, they made sure to tread quietly down the ladder. Once again on the ground floor, they found themselves in a small ventricle on the opposite side of the main warehouse room. While the building appeared to go back no further, a door with a glowing exit sign above it on the back wall, there were hallways extending to the right and left. “Which way?” 

“Left,” Erichthonius said with such conviction that Annabeth couldn’t help but feel that he was more than simply guessing. So, left they went. 

They moved quickly, their haste inspired by the revelation of impending mass possession. The deeper and deeper they went, the stench of stale air festered and grew. As the hallway went on, the marble flooring gave way to stained and cracked tile. A nauseating, claustrophobic feeling washed over Annabeth. This place reminded her of Daedalus’ labyrinth, the way it waxed and waned between new and old. A rotting factory building that Arachne had disgusted with luxury to lure unsuspecting mortals into her web. Like a phantom limb, Annabeth could feel the spider silk wrapped around her ankles. She had to keep charging forward down the left corridor to avoid that sense of danger, the thought of being pulled backward again. 

But it wasn’t her who faltered. Three quarters of the wall down the hall, Erichthonius gasped and clenched his right hand. He froze and gingerly pulled his hand close to his chest. He was hurt. His hand was hurt, but why?

“The shock!” Annabeth exclaimed. 

“What?” 

“When you first touched the computer in the security office it shocked you.” 

Annabeth expected bewilderment at her apparent leap in logic. She was used to having to backtrack and explain things as her brain soldiered ahead. If Percy had been in Erichthonius’s place, he would’ve stared at her, adorably blank faced until she clarified. But understanding came to Erichthonius right away. 

“By gods, I should have known! Arachne would never leave herself so open. She expected us to find the computer and we have played right into her hand. We-” His face contorted in pain. 

Annabeth gestured to his hand which was still hidden, balled up and tucked against his chest. “Let me see.” 

“That isn’t necessary, I’ll be-”

“ Let me see ,” she said more firmly. 

Erichthonius relented, unclenching his fist and offering it to Annabeth with a grimace. 

From the tip of his index finger, a toxic shade of green was spreading, just as it had on the woman on the platform. His veins were dark and swollen, macabrely resembling a spider web. 

“It must be some sort of venom,” Annabeth said, not looking up from his hand. 

“That would be my guess,” Erichthonius stuttered. Annabeth tried to ignore it, but his voice sounded weaker than before. 

“It hurts?” 

“Yes.” 

When Annabeth finally looked up, she was met with the sight of a milky haze eclipsing the gray of his eyes. 

“I-” 

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of scuttling echoing from behind them. Annabeth glanced back to see a wave of hundreds of black spiders barreling down the hallway toward them. 

“Come on!” She grabbed Erichthonius’s other hand and attempted to pull him along. She succeeded for the first few steps before he started to resist, clawing at her hands until she let go. 

“Annabeth, go.” His voice was so desperate and pleading she dared to glance back at him. His eyes were unrecognizable. 

“We have to keep going,” Annabeth said softly. She tried to reach for his hand again, but he wheeled away from her as if she were the big bad wolf. 

“Athenian spawn.” The look on his face was so murderous that for a second Annabeth was afraid he might lunge at her. Instead, he banged his hands against his head so hard that Annabeth couldn’t help but flinch. “ Athenian spawn.” 

The conflict in his voice was so palpable and Annabeth didn’t know what to do. In less than a minute they’d be completely overrun by a horde of spiders and there was no telling what would become of them then. She was so stunned with fear that she might have stood there paralyzed had Erichthonius not summoned the last reserve of his wits to demand, “Annabeth, go! I’ll be alright.” 

For a moment she remained still, watching the sea of spiders grow closer and closer. What of Erichthonius? She couldn’t just leave him here, but she couldn’t exactly move him in this state either. He was a danger to her and himself. Her only hope to help him was to find a cure to Arachne’s venom, which would require her to take on Arachne by herself. She couldn’t do this by herself. Not again. 

“Go!” He yelled, the last bit of light in his eyes flickering out. 

So, Annabeth went, charging down the hallway with the spiders on her tail. All her anti-spider instincts kicked in and channeled into her pounding feet. 

As she ran, her brain struggled to revise the plan. Fighting Arachne head on alone would be impossible. Yet again, she couldn't just leave. Not only was there Erichthonius and all the possessed mortal employees to worry about, but Arachne wasn’t a threat that could be ignored. 

Maybe she could get out of the warehouse and Iris message Percy. He’d drop everything and meet her. Then they could fight Arachne together. Or, better yet, they could recruit the whole legion to help. 

As she charged forward, she could hear the sound of spiders scuttling behind her crescendoing. She didn’t dare turn around. She kept running until she came face to face with a wall, once again faced with the choice of turning left or right. 

The decision became quite easy when Annabeth noticed the second and larger wave of black spiders closing in from the left corridor. She turned on her heel and went to the right, ignoring the ache in her lungs and calves. 

Right, Annabeth thought begrudgingly, not a teenager anymore. 

Yet, as it turns out, her fear of spiders was an excellent motivator. A few feet deep into the right hallway she came to a doorway, propped open and leading into darkness. With no time to thoroughly survey her options, she barreled into the dark room and swung the door shut behind her. 

The earlier image of the spiders crawling underneath the doorway into the security office flashed through her mind. She needed something to barricade the bottom of the door with and quick. She was certain she wouldn’t be able to handle it if hundreds flooded in and swarmed her. 

In the dark, she frantically felt around for something she could use, running her hands across the cold walls until she made contact with what felt to be some sort of wooden dresser or cabinet. Perfect. 

With the sound of the incoming charge of spiders, Annabeth rushed to push the cabinet in front of the door, barricading the room and keeping the spiders out. 

That obstacle taken care of, Annabeth placed her palm on her chest, trying to steady her racing heart. Finally, she was in relative safety. She could figure this out. 

“Well done,” a hauntingly familiar voice called out from the darkness behind her. “You’ve bested my trials once again. I’m sure your mother is proud.” 

The lights in the room flickered on, yet Annabeth didn’t need to turn around to put a face to that voice. She had heard that voice and seen that wretched face in her dreams every single night since that sweltering day in Rome four years ago. 

“Unfortunately for you dear, I will not be bested this time.” 

Annabeth was frozen, paralyzed by fear, and it didn’t even really matter. She had barricaded herself in, an army of spiders waiting on the other side of the door. There would be no quick escape. 

“Darkness works best for laying traps, but it isn’t ideal for working. I apologize, I’ll just need a few more minutes to finish up.”

Drawing from the last reserves of her courage, Annabeth turned to survey the room, making a point to avoid looking in the direction that voice was coming from. The room was rectangular and mostly barren. No windows or doors except for the one she came from. Even with the lights on, the room was still dim. Across the dirty tiled floor, crevices caked with years of grim and stained grout, piles and piles of woven silk clothing were scattered. In the center of the room was an inhumanly wide throne made from intricately spun spiderwebs.  So beautifully crafted that there was only one creature who could have made it. 

From the corner of her left eye Annabeth could see an ancient Grecian model loom. She wouldn’t turn her head to the left to examine it further, she couldn’t face her. 

“Oh don’t be shy,” the voice cooed. “Surely you haven’t forgotten me yet.”

She hadn’t even come close to forgetting. That was the problem. 

“I haven’t forgotten you, or that handsome boy of yours. I’m surprised you didn’t drag him along with you this time .” Her words were laced with malice. She was taunting her, baiting Annabeth’s weakness. 

“This has nothing to do with him, don’t involve him.” Annabeth spoke, a surprising amount of conviction in her voice despite the inner turmoil she was experiencing. Grasping at her waning boldness, Annabeth wheeled to the left to face her. To face Arachne again after four years. 

She looked just as she had remembered, just as if she had been plucked straight from Annabeth’s recurring nightmares. Stringy black hair and piercing red eyes, the upper body of a woman that faded at the torso and rounded into the shape of a giant spider. She stood before the loom, her spider legs making fast work at weaving strands of white and gold silk. 

Arachne smiled cruelly, revealing a set of razor sharp fangs. “Aw, there’s that bite I remember. You know,” she looked Annabeth up and down hungrily. “We might just have been friends once. Prideful they call us. Because we are women and we are talented, we are condemned to pride.”

With her set of human arms, Arachne gestured around the room at the mounds of clothing she had created. “How can I be too prideful when I have so much to be proud of.” Her sickening smile and hungry gaze returned to Annabeth. “I wager to guess you feel much the same as I do, child of Athena.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Annabeth did. 

“Hmm, perhaps not yet. But you will.” She narrowed her eyes at Annabeth as she said, “become the greatest architect, try to win the praise of the gods. They’ll punish you for aspiring to greatness.” 

“How do you know that I want to be an architect?” 

“My children have been watching, they’ve been watching you all along.” She nodded toward the barricaded door, “Even now, they still look for you.” 

Annabeth shuddered at the thought. Spiders were her worst fear, she would’ve noticed if they had been watching her all this time, right?  

“Really, it is such a shame,” Arachne mused. “That we’ll never get to see the beautiful art you would have created, just as the world never got to see mine.” 

“I’ve seen your art,” Annabeth refuted. 

“And the rest of the world will too, in time,” Arachne said as she finished off the final knot and removed an undeniably gorgeous white and gold silk chiton from the loom. “I hope it fits, I guessed on your measurements.” 

Annabeth could’ve made a hundred guesses as to what she thought Arachne was going to say and she still wouldn’t have guessed that. “What?”

“Come,” Arachne responded, offering the dress to Annabeth. “Put it on.” 

That didn’t help her to understand any better. “Why?”

“It’s a gift.” At Annabeth’s suspicious expression, she added, “it isn’t venomous or anything like that, dear.” 

Gingerly, Annabeth reached out and grabbed it. It didn’t burn or sting to the touch, in fact, the fabric was a soft and delicate silk, expertly made. 

“Oh, that looks like it’ll fit nicely,” Arachne cooed with appraising eyes. Annabeth shivered under her assessing gaze. “Put it on.” 

Once again, wits at a loss, Annabeth asked, “But why?” 

“You should know the answer to that, Wise Girl.” The familiar term of endearment felt like poison coming from her dark, cracked lips.  

Yet, Annabeth thrived in the burn. Her clever tongue and quick mind were better equipped when she could hate Arachne, not feel that paralyzing sense of misguided pity for her. Arachne may have been condemned for her ambitions and talent, but she had no right to pull Annabeth down with her. 

“It’s your pride,” Annabeth barked back. “You want to see me in a creation of yours before you kill me.” 

“Close,” Arachne said, flashing that smile that more closely resembled a sneer. “I want your mother to see you in a creation of mine before I kill her.” 

“You can’t kill a goddess.” 

“Can’t I?” Her voice was as sweet as nightshade. “The gods call me prideful, deserving of punishment, but they live off the praise and prayers of the creatures below them. They depend on it, and they would die without it.” Arachne tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at Annabeth. “But here’s the thing, I am better than your mother. I spent those years in Tartarus planning my revenge. And look at what I’ve achieved so far! Thousands of loyal patrons throw their money at my art. Through Necarah’s, my empire grows. And I will be wiser, smarter, and a better weaver than Athena ever was. I will tear down every Athenia spawn until your sweet mother fades into irrelevance.” 

“Your plan is flawed. Wisdom will never be irrelevant. It does not bow to greed or violence.” 

“Oh, would you like to test that?” Arachne leaned forward in challenge. “Open that door, see how much violence you can take, Wise Girl. Or put on the dress. Don’t worry, it isn’t in my best interest to kill you yet.” 

Really, what other option did Annabeth have? She was wise enough to know that trying to run was a death sentence. So she slipped the dress on, wrapping it around her shirt and jeans. 

With hungry eyes, Arachne declared her, “beautiful.” 

Annabeth’s stomach churned. She wanted so badly to rip the soft silk from her skin. Please mother, she mentally pleaded, please divinely transport me out of her . 

Of course, that didn’t happen. “Have a seat over there, dear. There is work to be done yet,” Arachne commanded, stringing new rows of white silk across her loom. 

Once again left with no better option, Annabeth did as she was told and took a seat in one of the piles of clothing on the tiled floor.

A plan, she had to make a plan. Unfortunately, thoughts beyond the desire for thought were not forming. Her composure, mostly built on the shoulders of adrenaline and unprocessed shock, was wearing thin. 

Erichthonius was infected and she had specifically told Percy not to come so any reinforcements were beyond hope. Backed into a room with no doors or windows, running was not an option either. Annabeth still had her knife on her, but in her gut she knew she’d never be able to wield the blade against Arachne; not for some tactical strategic reason, though Annabeth would prefer to pretend that it was. Simply, she was too afraid.

She was afraid enough to be sitting on the floor in a gown woven by her enemy and not be hatching a plan to strike. 

Which left her with only one other method- persuasion. Annabeth would have to talk her way out of this, which would be next to impossible considering Arachne already knew not to trust her after the finger trap debacle. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to get into Arachne’s head. If only Annabeth could find the right angle. 

Think, Annabeth scolded herself, what do you know about Arachne? What other weaknesses does she have? 

“Why so quiet? Where’s that piercing tongue of yours I remember? I’d hate to think you’d lost your tenacity.” 

Annabeth tried to meet her eyes, a nonchalant display of defiance, but the extensive, all-consuming blackness of her pupils sent a fresh wave of terror through Annabeth. Instead, she settled on looking at the space just over Arachne’s right shoulder as she replied, “there’s nothing to say.” 

“On the contrary, I think there’s too much to say.” Annabeth didn’t need to be looking at her to hear the hideous smirk in her words. “I must finish my weaving for the day. Go on, ask your questions.” 

Annabeth hesitated a moment before complying. Talking was good, maybe it would buy her enough time to figure out what her next move should be. “Where’s Erichthonius?”

“Oh, him,” Arachne made a dismissive gesture. “Athena’s lap dog. I presume he’s still out in the hallway, waiting for orders.” 

That confirmed what Annabeth had already suspected; Arachne was ordering, controlling, all the mortals here. Disrupting their brains to turn them into her personal servants. But that left one glaring unanswered question, “how?” 

“Simple spider venom, think of it as a more advanced trick of the mist. The how isn’t important, just know the infected will do anything I tell them to.” 

Lacking any real confidence, Annabeth said, “Let Erichthonius go.” She had no leg to stand on or any belief that Arachne would actually listen to her. It just felt like something she was supposed to say, her due diligence. 

Annabeth didn’t even look up at the sound of Arachne’s sigh. Hope was a fleeting thing that she had to make sure to conserve, curled up and restrained in the pit of her racing chest, for risk of losing it all. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. But I wouldn’t kill him yet. He’s of better use to me alive than dead. I think I’ll keep him as my own personal lap dog for the time being and have him bend to my will. He’s spent centuries on Athena’s leash, I’m sure he’ll be natural.” 

“And what about me?” 

“What about you, dear?” 

Annabeth could feel Arachne’s piercing red gaze on her but she still wouldn’t look back at her. “Why not infect me too? What do you want with me?” 

“I must admit, originally the plan was for you to get infected with the venom as well, but I think I like it better this way. You’re more than just a pawn, Annabeth,” she said in such a tone that it almost seemed she expected Annabeth to be flattered. “Athena’s favorite daughter. You’re my secret weapon. I’ll use you to destroy your mother.” 

Did Arachne really believe that Athena cared enough about her that her death would destroy the goddess? It was ridiculous, but another part of her longed so badly for that to be true. 

As if reading her thoughts, Arachne said, “You’re worth a great deal more than you realize.” 

The statement was so sweet on the surface level that Annabeth could feel her stomachache with the desire to curl even deeper into herself. 

“Now,” Arachne ordered. “Take off your trousers and come here.” 

For not the first time during this encounter, Annabeth was completely perplexed. “Why?” 

“The trousers are disrupting the way the dress lays, creating the most unflattering of wrinkles in the silk. And I have another gift for you to try on.” 

Slowly, Annabeth stood, unbuckled and pulled her jeans off, feeling the soft spider silk of the dress caress the bare skin of her legs. Folding her pants carefully and setting them next to the pile of other clothes on the floor, Annabeth finally turned to look at what was in Arachne’s outstretched hand. In it lay an ornately braided circlet of white spider silk. 

“What is it?” 

Arachne waited for Annabeth to apprehensively reach out and grab the hand-sized circle of silk before saying, “it’s for your ankle. Like a miniature leg warmer, or an anklet.” 

With the lurch of her stomach, the final puzzle piece clicked into place and the distorted picture became clear to Annabeth. Why Athena had led her here, why breaking it to the warehouse had been so easy. 

With the creation of this dainty lace anklet, Arachne’s message was clear. I am your ball and chain, I will follow you everywhere. I will always drag you back to the pit. You belong here with me.   

Annabeth’s eyes brimmed with tears. Facing Arachne once, motivated by an honorable mission to stop a war between the Greeks and Romans, had nearly been too much. And now? Annabeth had paid a steep price to banish her to the pit, and yet, Arachne was back and her blood red eyes were locked on Annabeth. With luck, Annabeth could maybe kill her again, but she’d just come back again. She’d keep coming back until Annabeth couldn’t anymore.

Perhaps it would be easier to just allow herself to be dragged back down. Quick and easy. Stop running against the current pulling at her leg, a current that would sweep her away sooner or later. She couldn’t be a hero forever. 

Following the half-hearted decision to make “later” sooner, Annabeth complied when Arachne said, “put it on.” 

She could feel a phantom pain rip through her ankle as she slid on Arachne’s lace cuff. She kept her head bowed as she did it, unable to face Arachne’s monstrous red eyes or hungry fangs as she surrendered herself. 

Downcast, Annabeth shuffled back to the pile of clothing she had been sitting on, eyes trained on her newly adorned foot the entire way. 

Yet, it was while looking down that Annabeth noticed something peculiar enough that it would perk back up that curious mind of hers. The floor. It was made of that same haughty golden marble that had been in the entryway. But it hadn’t been before. 

Annabeth was sure, combing through her overstimulated short-term memory, that the floor had been made of dirty tile. 

Inspired by her desire for an explanation, Annabeth found the courage to lift her bowed head up from where it was locked on her shackled ankle and face her captor- both physical and psychological. 

Arachne still stood over her loom, spider fingers busy twisting strands of silk, but there was an undeniable difference in her. Her hair was shinier, a color more akin to life washing over her face. Somehow she seemed more imposing, plumper and surrounded by an aura of power. 

Her strength was growing, there was no doubt about it, but how ? Erichthonius had shut down the Necarah website, so it wasn’t coming from her “patrons” orders. But if not them, what was the source? 

Connecting the puzzle pieces in her head, Annabeth came to a dizzying revelation. As if drawn to Annabeth’s panic, the spiders had trickled in one after another back in the security office. The floor changed after Annabeth submitted to putting on Arachne’s anklet. With her eyes averted in fear, Arachne grew. 

No wonder Arachne had said Annabeth was more than just a pawn in her game, she was the battery. They hadn’t snuck in and evaded the tranced mortals and spiders, because this whole time Aracahne wanted her here. She needed her here. Aracnhe could not only sense Annabeth’s fear, she was consuming it. She was sustained off the pride she felt breaking the will of Athena’s prized daughter into compliance and fitting her into her coat of arms. 

Simply, if Annabeth couldn’t overcome her fear, she would become the weapon used to destroy her mother. 

So, Annabeth had to stop being afraid. Easier said than done, Annabeth thought, eyes lingering on Arachne’s disproportionate figure bent over the loom. 

Taking Arachne head on in a fight was still a hurdle Annabeth wasn’t sure she was prepared to face. So, that once again left her with her wits alone. 

Pride, Annabeth remembered. Pride had been the common ground that Arachne had appealed to earlier. A sense of pride that tied the two of them together as perfectly matched foes. But, the difference was Arachne saw her pride as no flaw and Annabeth knew just how fatal it could be. 

The only chance Annabeth had at reclaiming power was by challenging Arachne’s pride. So, she opened her mouth and said, “You know, I bet I’m a better weaver than you are. Just like my mom.” 

“Is that so?” Arachne hummed, red eyes still on her weaving. Yet, the tiniest trace of a twitch in her brow made it clear that Annabeth’s words had their intended effect. 

Squaring her shoulders in an attempt to hide any signs of her lingering terror, Annabeth took small steps toward Arachne. “I mean, look at you. Back from the dead and you’re still hiding away. The only way for you to achieve the mortals' love and adoration is through poison and mind control,” Annabeth scoffed, praying to any God who would listen that she sounded appropriately nonchalant. 

“You saw how many patrons are throwing money at my art! They can’t get enough of me.” 

“Aww but you see, they’re ordering from some company named Necarach ’s. Not you, Arachne.” 

Arachne had stopped working on her weaving, glaring at Annabeth with focused loathing. Exactly what she had hoped would happen, but it still sent a shock of cold electricity down her spine. 

“There is no difference. It is my art all the same.” 

“It makes all the difference,” Ananbeth shook her head, masking her face in condescending sympathy. “You used a fake name because you knew no one in their right mind would ever buy from you, Arachne. An infamous loser. The weaver who wasn’t good enough to impress the gods.” 

Arachne narrowed her blood red eyes in freighting silence, a fuse one spark away from exploding. It was now or never. 

“So yeah, I know that I’m a better weaver than you.” 

Slowly, Arachne rose from behind the loom, all eight of spider legs raising her up to her true height. The full extent of her massive and hideous form was on the display. The mother of all spiders. 

“Come them, child of Athena. Show me just how well you weave.” 

Annabeth wanted nothing less than to do as she said. Arachne was now towering over her by an extra ten feet and Annabeth’s legs were practically begging to run their way out. Instead, she walked over and sat before the loom in performative indifference. 

Once she was seated, Arachne leaned over her, her breath tickling Annabeth’s neck as she said, “Finish it.” 

Annabeth looked to the loom where it seemed Arachne had started a colorfully threaded athletic top much like the one Piper had shown her earlier. Gods, the afternoon on the sunny hills of New Rome felt like eons ago at this point. 

In a show of confidence, Annabeth turned her head over her shoulder to meet Arachne’s eyes before saying, “I’ll perfect it.” 

Arachne faked a smile in what was a poor attempt at hiding a scowl. Perfect , Annabeth thought, turning back to the loom, I’m getting to her. 

Annabeth steadied her breath, reaching out and taking hold of the various strands of thread before her. She had never actually used a loom before. Sure, she had tried and excelled at other handicrafts before, but never this. She could only hope that her mother’s talent with the loom was genetic. 

And at first, it seemed it was. Twisting and crossing the threads over one another so seamlessly it was almost as if the fates were whispering in her ear and directing her hands. Row after row, Annabeth worked on autopilot, weaving the vibrant stripes of the shirt together. Her mind was elsewhere and her body knew exactly what to do as if this very loom were her birthright. 

Then, with the sensation of Arachne’s cold breath on her neck one more, Annabeth’s mind was back in the present. The rhythmic pattern of her fingers broke and her last knot slipped. 

Immediately, Arachne’s spindly finger appeared in Annabeth’s peripheral vision. “Hmm, you messed that knot up, dear.” 

The satisfaction was audible in her voice. She had been waiting for Ananbeth to mess up, and now she was partially salivating at the chance to correct her. Arachne would take any opportunity to satiate her pride, the one chink Annabeth had to exploit. 

Annabeth craned her neck to face Arachne and flashed her best innocent smile. “Opps. Can you show me how to fix it?” 

As Annabeth had expected, Arachne did not hesitate to correct the child of Athena. She stepped to the side, her long arms stretching over Annabeth’s right shoulder to reach the loom. She made quick work at wrapping her fingers in the silk threads, focusing on undoing Annabeth’s mistake, leaving her left flank exposed. 

Annabeth only had a moment to act. She drew her knife from her thigh holster- a knife that Arachne’s confidence had kept her from disarming.  

“You see, you must make sure to pull each knot tight-” 

Annabeth plunged the blade into Arachne’s ribs, a gush of black blood coding Annabeth’s hands. Hands slick, she attempted to pull the knife back but found it stuck in Arachne’s side. 

“You bitch ,” Arachne growled, cold fingers grasping Annabeth’s wrist before she could pull away. In a surge of fear, Annabeth tried to recoil, but the grip on her wrist was far too strong to fight. Arachne smiled, a sickening sight, her fangs covered in her own black-blue blood. Then, she twisted Annabeth’s wrist, a piercing scream escaping her lips at the pain shooting through her arm. 

Annabeth’s knees went weak, sending her body crashing to the floor, but Arachne kept twisting. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel of red hot pain, spotted with static terror. The twisting persisted until her wrist gave a terrible crunch, setting her entire arm ablaze. Then finally, Arachne let go.  

Through her daze of pain, Annabeth saw Arachne stand above her and pull the knife from her side, tossing the blade aside. Overcome with fear, she scooted backward on the floor. 

Arachne laughed, blood dripping from her mouth, “What’s the plan now, Wise Girl ?” 

The pounding of Annabeth’s heart echoed in her head. She swore she could hear crashing in the walls, out in the hallway. What was her plan now? 

Arachne lunged at her and her instincts took over. Annabeth rolled, ignoring the pain in her right arm. She was ambidextrous. If only she could find where her knife had landed after Arachne threw it, Annabeth could wield it left handed. 

But there was no time to look because as soon as Annabeth was back on her feet, Arachne was barreling at her again. Two things were clear; Arachne was both bigger and stronger than Annabeth, which left her with nothing more than her agility and the small fact that she didn’t currently have a gapping knife wound in her side. 

No time to be afraid, she steeled herself, slipping back into her well-trained warrior mindset. If she wanted to remain alive, she would have to time this just right, which meant there could be no weak knees or stomach knots. 

On the count of 3… 1.. 2… Just before Arachne slammed into her, Annabeth fell to the ground and rolled underneath her legs. Springing up, Annabeth carried the weight of her momentum down on Arachne’s back, hoping that the surprise would be enough to topple her.

Arachne crumbled to the floor with a pained wail, landing on her wounded side. Quickly, Annabeth scrambled off of her back. She had a minute at most before Arachne gathered enough strength to get up to find her discarded knife. 

Her search started out in confidence at her momentary victory over Arachne. Once she found her knife, she felt sure she’d be able to plunge it into Arachne’s monstrous heart and finish her off for good. And in her confidence, Arachne stayed curled up on the fading marble floor, her blood painting an outline of where she lay dying. 

But soon, the adrenaline high started to subside and Annabeth became aware of the true extent of the pain in her wrist. It was deafening, drowning out the pounding in her head, the sound of Arachne’s labored breathing. A fog of agony clouded her vision, making the search for her knife next to impossible. She couldn’t focus on anything but the pain in her arm and her frantic desperation to find the damned blade. 

Next thing she knew she was hitting the floor, her ankle caught in one of the many piles of clothing on the floor. I just tripped, that’s it. I got to get back up , Annabeth scolded herself. Still, she couldn’t quite ignore the phantom tug in her ankle. Imagines of spider silk pulling her back into the pit invaded her mind, leaving Annabeth sprawled and vulnerable on the cold marble floor. 

Breathless, Annabeth rolled over, propping herself up on her elbows. And there before her stood Arachne on her feet once more. Standing over nothing more than a quivering, unarmed girl.  

“Nice try,” Arachne sneered, wiping the dripping blood clean from her chin with the back of her hand. “But I expected more from Athena’s finest .” 

Never before had Annabeth felt such terror. This was not the first time she had faced down death. But, it was the first time she had been confronted with it after knowing what true peace was. She now knew what it was like to love without an impending expiration date. She now knew what it was like to be happy, truly. 

And now, she knew that she was about to die. 

Arachne staggered closer and Annabeth did the only thing she could manage to do in her petrified state. She closed her eyes and screamed, an act of defiance and submission combined. 

She screamed until her throat ached and her ears were numb. She kept screaming in anticipation of Arachne’s final blow, determined that if she had to die, she’d die screaming. That should at least get the attention of  mother, Annabeth thought bitterly. But, that final blow never came. 

Annabeth closed her mouth but the shrill sound of screaming persisted. Arachne was screaming, but why? 

She opened her eyes to the sight of a sword tip coated in black blood mere inches from her face. Tracing the sword back, Annabeth found it to be sprouting from the stomach of Arachne, whose paling fingers were unsuccessfully trying to cover this new gaping wound. 

At first, Annabeth was too deep into shock to feel anything other than relief. She had been rescued. But who had done the rescuing? Who was wielding the blade that was currently impaled in Arachne’s gut?

Her questions led her curious eyes back to the sword tip. Examining it with more clarity, Annabeth realized that she recognized the bronze glow emanating from the blade. 

“Percy,” she cried, scrambling onto her feet, tears springing in her eyes.

With a disgusting sound, the sword is retracted from Arachne’s torso, sending her crashing sideways onto the floor and revealing the sword’s wielder. Without a second's hesitation, Annabeth flung herself at him, riptide clattering to the ground as he rushed to wrap his arms around her. 

Annabeth buried herself in his embrace, desperate to suffocate in that familiar scent of the sea. Her finger tips dug into his arms and shoulders with an urgent need to be engulfed by him. 

“Percy,” she sighed. And then, the tears came like unforecasted rain on a cloudy day. 

In response, he repeated the same phrase over and over like a prayer, voice mumbled as he pressed his mouth into her curls. His voice sent vibrations that reverberated through her skull, sinking and settling into her body and soul. 

“It’s alright now, we’re together. We’re together.” 

Annabeth tilted her head up to trail feather light kisses along his jaw in an attempt to prove their togetherness. She needed to overwhelm her senses with him, to feel him in her arms and his warm skin under her lips, to hear his whispered words of comfort. 

“You’re safe now, we’re together.” 

They were together, a fact that Annabeth could confirm as she engulfed herself in him. But, there was one sensation that she couldn’t quite bury. The squeezing of her ankle compressed by spider silk. And then, with that simple realization, fear rebooted her mind, rushes of adrenaline becoming the only thing she could feel. They weren’t safe. 

Her eyes flew to her ankle, still adorned in Arachne’s webbing and a marble floor underneath. Lightheaded, Annabeth staggered backward. 

“Annabeth?” Percy questioned, confused apprehension written across his face. 

But before Annabeth could explain, Arachne grumbled from where she was sprawled out on the floor beside them, surrounded by a moat of her own blood. She was still conscious and still trying to get back up. 

Arachne was still breathing after being stabbed twice. The floor was made of marble. Annabeth was still wearing Arachne’s woven anklet. Her fear alone was keeping Arachne alive. 

Noticing Arachne’s attempts to stand up, Percy turned and readied his sword to deliver another blow. 

“Wait,” Annabeth interrupted, blocking Percy’s path to Arachne with her arm. “You can’t kill her.” 

She watched his face morph, the crease of his dark eyebrows taking shape. He didn’t look offended, just confused. “Why not?” 

“My fear is what’s keeping her alive. I’m the only one who can kill her.” 

She extended her left hand out to him in a silent question. She needed riptide. 

Based on the look on his face, Percy was no closer to understanding. Truthfully, Annabeth wasn’t sure she understood either. She had no idea how Arachne was managing to feed off her terror, but she was as certain of it as she was that the sky was blue and that Percy and her were made for one another. 

Still, in a show of utter faith, Percy handed his sword over to her without hesitation. 

“Thank you,” Annabeth said, hoping that her eyes were able to convey the true depths of her gratitude. For finding her. For saving her. For handing her the sword. For everything. 

 “Don’t mention it,” he said with the faintest smile. 

Ignoring the warm melt of her pounding heart, Annabeth turned back to face Arachne. The first thing she had to do was clear. She leaned forward and cut her ankle free from the spider silk; a step that should have been taken years ago while in Rome. 

Then, she stepped forward until she was mere inches away from Arachne, who had managed to rise to her knees. She raised riptide over her head. 

“You’ll never pull me down again.” 

Without giving Arachne the opportunity for last words, Annabeth drove the blade through her heart. Coated in cold, dark blood, the floor was once again made of dirty tile. 

Annabeth held riptide there, buried deep in Arachne’s chest. She watched her face turn ashen and her body slump over. She stared deep into Arachne’s eyes and watched the life slip away from them. When she was sure that she was dead, Annabeth pulled riptide free. 

Arachne’s body lay there, bloodied and slowly dissolving into dust. 

“She’s dead, it’s over now,” Annabeth declared, turning back to face Percy. As the adrenaline and fear faded away, pain and exhaustion struck at a tenfold. Her wrist was unnaturally bent and it felt as if it were on fire. No longer able to support herself, she collapsed into Percy’s open arms. 

“It’s over,” he agreed. 

_____________________

It wasn’t until Annabeth was wrapped up in a warm blanket and seated in the Praetor's office of New Rome, surrounded by Percy, Piper, Hazel, Frank, and Erichthonius, that she finally started to feel some semblance of safety again. Aside from her broken wrist, which was now bandaged, the only physical reminder of her time in Necarah’s warehouse was the dress that Arachne had made for her, clinging to her body, sticky and covered in blood. When she and Percy got back to their apartment, changing would be the first thing she’d do. 

Not long after Annabeth had killed Arachne and subsequently crumbled into Percy’s arms, Piper had come bursting in the room. Annabeth must've looked like a crazy person, unable to stand upright and rambling on about how they had to save her half-snake brother while Percy and Piper tried to haul her out to the car. 

Luckily, they ran into Erichthonius, curled up and semi-conscious in the corner of the main factory floor. The mortals that had been under Arachne’s venom scrambled about, hazy as the spell was breaking. Still, they paid no mind to the half-snake man and the woman dressed in a blood stained ancient Greek dress. Thank gods for the mist. 

At Annabeth’s adamant insistence, Percy had carried Erichthonius out while Piper supported her. Then, the four of them piled into Piper’s jeep and high tailed it out of there. No more wild pegasi and flying chariots for Annabeth, she had already experienced plenty. 

And then they were back to Camp Jupiter where Annabeth’s evening of horrors had started hours ago with a simple attack on the tunnel. Still, she couldn’t ignore the feeling that she’d been gone for years rather than the mere hours it had really been. 

After being poked, prodded at, and bandaged by the on duty Apollo children, Annabeth was ready to go to bed and put Arachne behind her for good. Instead, she was stuck inside the praetors office with all her friends- being looked upon as if she were a wounded puppy- to “debrief” on that night's happenings.  

“So,” Frank said from where he sat behind the desk, attempting to take control of a very anxiously charged room. “You’re Athena’s lieutenant?” 

“Yes,” Erichthonius perked up from where he stood in the corner of the room. None of the chairs properly accommodated his serpentine bottom. “I was also the king of Athens, several thousands of years ago.” 

“An impressive resume,” Piper nodded. “And you're a child of Athena and Hephaestus?”  

“Well, I suppose you could say that,” Erichthonius sighed, a look of unease on his face similar to when Annabeth had asked him about his godly father on the chariot earlier. Yet, Annabeth was just happy to see his eyes clear once again, the haze of Arachne’s venom having fully subsided. While she may have just met her brother, she did not want to lose him yet. “But it is to my mother that I am loyal.” 

Piper’s eyes filled with humor. “Oh, you have to meet Leo!” 

“Leo?” 

“Your brother. He’s-”

“More importantly,” Hazel interjected, raising her palms to draw attention back to her. “What in Pluto’s name happened tonight?” 

The question was directed at Annabeth, who kept her eyes down and focused on her bandaged wrist which rested in her lap. Percy reached over, giving her good hand a reassuring squeeze. Still, it was Erichthonius who elected to answer. 

“Arachne reformed from Tartarus faster than expected. She started selling clothing under the name ‘Necarah’ in order to gain power and influence over her customers. The end goal was to wipe out all of Athena’s children and then Athena herself, which would be a major problem,” Erichthonius paused, clearing his throat. “For understandable reasons.” 

“Okay, so Athena sent you to deal with Arachne for her because the gods just fear confrontation oh so much ,” Piper rolled her eyes. “But why take Annabeth?” 

“First off, I just want it to be clear that I’m not the one who made her disappear. That was Athena,” Erichthonius said defensively. “And second, aren’t we all still alive? And isn’t Arachne dead?” 

He paused, letting the unspoken answer hang in the air of the small office. “That’s precisely why Athena chose Annabeth.” 

“Forget the excuses,” Percy interjected, voice nothing short of venomous. “Annabeth has already done more than enough for Athena. Kidnapping her, forcing her to fight when Athena could just as easily have blasted Arachne off the face of the earth if she cared to? It isn’t fair!” 

It was true, but Erichthonius was not the one deserving of Percy’s indignation. Annabeth was collecting her voice to mediate when her brother snapped, “I never said it was fair. But for her, it is over.” 

For her. He said it with such reproach, such hostility that Annabeth had not once seen in him over the course of the night. She supposed it could mean that she just didn’t know him well— which was true— but there was more to it than that. For her it was over, for him it was not. 

No one spoke, her friends stunned at the hostile outburst of an up until that point, kind— if not passive— man. With a heavy sigh, Erichthonious continued, “Now, I must take my leave. Make my way back to the Vasco’s and await my next orders.” The anger was gone, replaced with nothing but that same melancholic longing she’d recognized in him on the chariot ride into the city. The sadness of a man who had been nothing more than a hero for centuries. 

He turned toward the door. It wasn’t fair. 

“Wait,” she exclaimed, standing up abruptly, to which her body protested, her blanket falling to the floor. “Brother, stay.” 

“I must-”

“At least stay the night. Surely Mother won’t give you new orders in the next 12 hours. And then we can talk more in the morning. I mean, I can barely even speak right now I’m so tired.” Hesitation still written across his face, it was clear to Annabeth she must try another angle. As much as she wanted to collapse into bed with Percy beside her, she couldn’t rest until she knew Erichthonious would be okay. “I’m sure all the legionnaires would love to meet a former King of Athens. It would be quite an informative experience.” 

A child of Athena herself, Annabeth knew all the tricks. Dangle the prospect of an educational venture in front of him like a carrot, it would be sacrilegious for him not to bite. 

“And I’m sure Frank and Hazel could prepare a room for you,” she added. 

“Of course we can,” Frank confirmed immediately and Annabeth was infinitely grateful for her friends ‘no questions asked’ attitude. She was aware that a half-snake half-sibling could be met much worse among other groups. 

“Or you could stay in my dorm room with me,” Piper offered. “If your ideal accommodations are y’know, communal showers and a tiny cinder block room.”

Annabeth watched his face like watching a tennis match, his resolve bouncing back and forth until he landed on, “Fine. Just for the night.” 

“Perfect. In fact, you can have my Praetor’s suite. I normally sleep in cohort five, anyway.” Hazel then shifted her attention back to Annabeth, who stood unsteadily before her chair. “Then…” 

Hazel, Frank, Piper— they were all waiting for her to make a plan, to dictate what comes next. Where does Erichthonious go when tomorrow comes? If Arachne came back, who or what is next? Are you really okay, Annabeth? They were all looking to her, the woman who could hardly even stand up, to speak. Forever and always she would be nothing but Athena’s finest child.

“I-I don’t-” But the words were too far away to grasp, dying on her tongue before she could form them. 

Then, a warm, supportive hand came to rest on her lower back and Annabeth felt sturdy again. “Actually, Hazel, I think it’s best we call it a night. My brain can barely function regularly, let alone while sleep deprived.” 

“Of course, you two head home,” Hazel nodded, sympathetic. “We’ll get Erichthonious settled in. We can talk more in the morning, with clear heads.” 

Percy came around to stand on Annabeth’s left, offering her his hand, a sweet smile on his face. Annabeth accepted, letting him lead her out of the office and toward their New Rome apartment with a final goodnight said to their friends.

 Yet, all the way, Annabeth’s mind was preoccupied. With lingering terror, yes; but also utter amazement at how Percy could always tell exactly what she needed from him, and then he’d do it. No questions asked or prompting required. 

The walk across the field of Mars and into New Rome was silent— the comfortable kind. The spring air was chilly, but underlaid with hopeful hints of summer’s returning warmth. While still dark out, constellations sparkled above them. Annabeth suspected dawn was just around the corner. It had been a long night. 

When they reached their apartment building, Percy placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her up stairs to the third floor. Under normal circumstances, Annabeth would have resented this dismissal of her independence, but nothing about today had been normal, and the sensation of his calloused hand through the silk of her dress was just what she needed to keep going. 

When Percy took his hand away to unlock their front door, she all but about shriveled up on the hallway floor, cold and deflated. 

With the turn of the lock, the door swung open to reveal their dark apartment. Their home. 

Together, they walked inside. With a clatter, Percy dropped his keys on the entryway table and asked, “Are you hungry? I’m starving.” 

As if que, Annabeth’s stomachs growled. Those 6 o’clock dinner plans had never come to fruition, her stomachs realized. “Ugh, yes. But first, I need to get out of this dress.” 

With the front door shut behind them, they lingered in the entryway of their apartment for a moment. In the darkness, she could make out little more than the whites of his eyes and how they were directed at her. 

“Hmm,” he hummed. “You look beautiful. I would say you should keep it, if Arachne hadn’t made it, that is.” 

“Maybe the only time I’ve come back from a quest looking better than I did before,” she joked, and yet she couldn’t shake the underlying truth of it. Arachne’s work was beautiful. Despite everything, maybe she was deserving of that pride that led to her demise time and time again. 

Percy brought his hand up to caress Annabeth’s cheek, drawing her back to the present moment. In a whisper he said, “I don’t know, you can’t make what’s already perfect any better.” With a soft kiss pressed to her forehead, he stepped back and Annabeth silently mourned the loss of his warm skin and breath. “I’ll figure out something for us to eat. You go get changed.” 

Exhausted, she dragged her body down the hallway and into their bedroom. Eyes already adjusted to the dark, Annabeth opted to switch on her bedside lamp rather than the ceiling light, casting a soft yellow glow across the room. 

From there, she made quick work of removing the remnants of today. First she peeled the dress off, trying to ignore the crunch of Arachne’s dried black blood which coated the front. Then the shirt she had kept on underneath. Her jeans had been left behind, abandoned on the warehouse floor, which Annabeth supposed might be for the best. She had half the mind to burn everything that could be tied back to that place. 

Pulling out the first things she grabbed from her dresser, Annabeth changed into an old, raggedy Broadway t-shirt and sleep shorts.  

Still unsatisfied, she shuffled into her and Percy’s ensuite bathroom. Annabeth grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet and held it under the facet for a few seconds before bringing it to scrub her face, her arms, her legs. To cleanse herself of that lingering feeling of disgust— of contamination. That damned invisible spot did not want to come out. 

When she was done and she finally looked at herself in the mirror— the only source of light being from the lamp in the next room over— she felt horrible. Annabeth looked the same as she had just this morning, but she shouldn’t, should she? How can she just snap back like nothing ever happened? Like tonight never happened? 

With the sound of approaching footsteps and their bedroom light turning on came, “So, how do you feel about cereal for dinner? Because I don’t feel like— oh.” She must have not looked okay because he immediately deserted the two bowls he was carrying on the dresser top and came to stand before her in the bathroom. “Are you okay?” 

“About as okay as can be expected, I guess.” Her dismissive shrug was supposed to be reassuring but she could see it had had the opposite effect. 

Carefully, Percy reached out and grabbed her right arm at the elbow, ushering it toward himself. He cradled her bandaged wrist between his hands, delicately tracing his index finger over her knuckles. “It still hurts?” 

“Well, it doesn’t feel good.”

“Do you need more ambrosia? There should be some in the-”

“No, no. It’s alright.” 

Percy released her wrist, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek. “And you’re alright?” 

“I’ll be alright,” she whispered in response.

With a soft, satisfied smile, Percy dropped his hand from her face to instead grab her left hand and lead her into their bedroom. 

“Wait, bright. Can you turn the light off?” Annabeth squinted, letting go of his hand to shield her eyes. 

“Oh, sorry.” Percy quickly turned and flipped off the ceiling light, but it was too late. Annabeth saw their bedroom in full illumination. 

It looked no different than it had when she left that morning. Her wooden dresser pushed up against the left wall, vanity on the right, scattered with makeup and trinkets and framed pictures of her and Percy over the years. Their bed in the middle of the room, unmade and messy, white and blue bedspread bunched up in a heap at the foot of the bed. 

This wasn’t her cabin back at Camp Half-blood. This was her and Percy’s apartment. A woman who was stable, balancing the workload of a full time undergrad student and a prestigious internship in the city, lived here. A happy woman lived here, unburdened by non-mortal fears and heroics. In this bedroom, security and safety presided. 

And Annabeth was not currently that woman. She didn’t belong right now. 

As soon as the thought flooded her mind, the tears started to seep out, and all she could think was, here I go, proving my point.

Her status as a blubbering mess was obvious to Percy as soon as he turned back around from the light switch, even with the return to the lamp’s low lighting. 

“Annabeth,” he sighed, paragraphs worth of concern and tenderness conveyed in the way he spoke her name. He rushed forward to take her in his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, her attempt at trying to stop crying only making her cry harder. “ I just want it to stop.” 

Percy exhaled, stepping back just enough to tuck the hair eclipsing her face being her ears. 

Without another word, he gently sat Annabeth down on their bed and switched the bedside lamp off, leaving the apartment in total darkness. He moved across the room, his body a black shadow against the dim gray background to the window above her vanity. Brushing the curtains aside, he cracked the window open to allow the warm spring breeze to drift through the room, bringing with it the distant sound of crickets and wind chimes. The fresh air washed over Annabeth, lulling her racing mind. She closed her eyes and breathed it in. 

The bed shifted underneath her, a shoulder bumping into hers. “Want what to stop?” He mused, picking their conversation right back up. 

Annabeth kept her eyes closed, sitting criss-cross beside Percy on their bed, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. The physical contact, however slight, was infinitely comforting. “The quests, the monsters. No matter how old we get, no matter how good we are, no matter how normal we try to act- horrible things will always happen to us. It’ll never stop.” 

“Annabeth, hey. You’re safe now—”

“No, Percy. I’m not. Neither of us are. So how am I supposed to just keep getting up and going to class, going to work like none of this ever happened?” 

Beside her, Percy took a long, deep breath. She could feel it in the way his shoulders rose and tensed briefly, the sound of an exhale following. “I mean, haven’t we always known that we’re not truly safe. Still, we’ve gotten this far. That’s never stopped us before.” 

Annabeth’s eyes dropped to her lap where her hands rested, nothing more than blobs in the darkest. “But before I had hoped that it was truly over. Since we made it to college, I thought we might be in the clear. It was a stupid thought. A stupid, naive thought. I see that now.” 

“No.” With tender forcefulness, he grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him, their foreheads touching. “No. There’s nothing stupid about it.  You have wanted to be an architect your whole entire life and you damn well deserve it. You can not let the gods take that from you.” 

His face less than an inch from hers, Annabeth met his eyes, a murky green in the dark. He was so familiar to her, even when the whole world around her felt too foreign and too much. 

To him, her longest and most trusted confidant, she confided in a whisper, “I’m just so tired of being a hero, Percy.”

“Me too. Gods, me too Annabeth,” he breathed, years of exhaustion in his voice. 

“But isn’t that why we came here? We left New York to escape it, so it would all stop— the monsters, the quests, the weight .” 

“I don’t think we’ll ever fully escape it, Beth. Big 3 superpowers and all, but I do believe it will get better. And honestly-” foreheads still touching, she could feel his breath on her face, see the tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t want it to stop. Because as long as horrible things keep happening, so do we. If it takes going on quests for the rest of my life to have a future with you, then that’s what I’ll do.” 

“Percy,” she sighed. It felt like her heart was caught in her throat and that her stomach was turning with equal parts butterflies and dread. “Don’t say that.” 

“Why not? It’s true. I’d go through Tartarus again for you. I’d even swear it on the River of-”

“No,” Annabeth hurriedly brought a finger up to his lip to shush him. “You’re right, you know. Since I was five, all I’ve ever wanted was to be an architect. And for a long time, getting to college and pursuing my career was the most important thing to me. But today, when I thought I was about to die, I didn’t give a shit about architecture. All I could think about was you. You're what I want most; a quiet, peaceful future with you.” She removed her finger from his lips, instead resting her hand on his face. “So,” Annabeth whispered. “Don’t go making stupid oaths indebting yourself to the gods for me. Okay?” 

“Okay.” And then, he closed the small space before them. Their lips and foreheads were touching, noses squished together, and still, she needed to be closer to him. She needed to feel him in order to know that they were both still here. So, she entwined her hand in his dark waves, adhering herself to him. He brought a hand up to cradle her neck, the other resting supportively on her lower back.  The kiss moved slowly, lulled by the cool breeze drifting in through the cracked window, washing over them and carrying with it the familiar scent of poppies blooming in New Rome’s gardens. His lips were chapped against hers and tasted of salt. With his quickened pulse, he was like rapid waters in her palms and she wanted nothing more than to drown in him. Still, their lips moved in soft tandem. 

In the dark, the moment was intimate. Intimate in a way that went beyond kissing, and even sex. But rather, intimate in the sense that she had never felt more comfortable anywhere or with anyone in her entire life. Through her kisses, she bared her heart to him. How she loved him and wanted it all. How she desired to do everything under the sun with him- graduation, marriage, jobs, a house, children, family vacations, retirement plans, and rocking chairs. For him, she would take on any role, even the hero. She could never give up on her life because of how desperately she wanted to share it with him. 

“Ouch,” she pulled away abruptly as sharp pain shot down her right arm. She had moved her broken wrist too much and ruined the perfectly tender moment with a dose of painful reality. “Sorry,” she sighed, cheek tinted pink with a touch of embarrassment. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Percy soothed. Delicately, grabbed her bandaged hand and rested it in his lap, gently massaging circles into her palm. “Better?” 

Nodding, Ananbeth could not go another second without saying, “I love you. And thank you for saving me. For rescuing me from Arachne, for dealing with me. All of it.” 

He cracked a sideway smile, a small puff of air escaping his nose as he said, “Anytime.” 

For good measure, he gave her one last kiss before climbing off the bed and walking over to the dresser. “Now, can I interest you in some soggy cereal?” 

“Hmm,” she hummed. “It certainly has been a soggy cereal kind of day.” 

He carried the two bowls over to the bed, leaning over to offer one to Annabeth. But when she grabbed it, his grip remained just as firm. “Hey, I love you too. As long as we’re together and all that.”

“As long as we’re together,” Annabeth repeated, looking up at him, his handsome face outlined by the traces of moonlight peeking in through the window. It was a sentiment she would repeat time and time again, hopefully in better circumstances with each declaration. 

Percy smiled at her, big and bright, his teeth reflecting what little light was in the room before letting go of her bowl and coming around to sit beside her on the bed once more. He molded into his rightful spot beside her, settling onto the mattress. Their shoulders brushed like puzzle pieces snapping into place. 

Welcoming the sense of peace, Annabeth turned her attention toward her growling stomach. She was two spoonfuls of mushy Cheerios deep when Percy spoke again. “So..  you and Leo share a brother?” She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

“We’re not talking about this tonight. Or preferably ever.” 

“Oh c’mon,” he teased. “I think I can see the family resemblance.”

Annabeth did not dignify that with a response and instead turned focus back to her cereal. 

“Hey,” Percy said, tapping his spoon on the side of her bowl to get her attention. “You should consider it an honor. You finally get an invitation to join my monstrous half-brother club!” 

Annabeth couldn’t suppress her laugh at that. “Hmm, are there snacks at the meetings?”

Percy leaned into the pillows away from her, acting at being offended. “Who do you think I am? Of course there are snacks!” 

“Then I suppose you can count me in.”

And despite everything, she smiled and curled into his side. Her wrist hurt like hell and her head was pounding from all the stress and tears of today, but she was content right where she was. On one of the worst nights of her life, he had given her comfort. With stupid jokes, a cracked window, and a soggy bowl of cereal, he had made her happy; if she felt like this now, Annabeth could hardly imagine the extent of happiness that quiet, peaceful future with him would bring. 

Percy responded by wrapping his arm around her, engulfing her in warmth and the familiar scent of the sea. He pulled her in tighter, encouraging her to curl deeper into his side. With a sleepy sigh, he pressed a kiss into the curls on the top of her head, sending a swarm of warm, tingling butterflies straight to her chest. And as someone who has literally been through wars, Annabeth decided that nothing could ever be worse than not knowing what it feels like to be loved by this man. 

In this life, Annabeth had been dealt the hand of a hero. The fates had dropped tragedy on her head as if it were a boulder to roll uphill. And as much as it seemed the gods wanted her to be crushed, and as many times as she wanted to let the boulder roll right over top her, Annabeth would always persist. Because in this life, Annabeth had also been dealt an ace. A hero to walk alongside her. 

For Percy, Annabeth would keep on fighting against that boulder’s gravity, because a life with him was something worth being a hero for. 

But, that was too much to say right now. Dawn was a few hours away and Annabeth was ready to fall asleep, curled up in his arms. So, for the moment, she opted to kiss his check and whisper a soft, “I love you,” in his ear. 

And just as they would always be together, Percy would always whisper it back.