Percy Jackson and the Olympians: Book Six

“The Dark Olympians”

Chapter Five: My Mom Married a God.

“That’s not possible.”

I wanted it not to be possible.

“There’s no way my unborn sibling is the seventh child of the prophecy.”

Jack sat in an almost catatonic state on the porch, staring into space. “It is possible,” he murmured distantly. “When I left, Fyn was thirteen.”

Nico arched an eyebrow. “Fyn?”

Jack’s eyes held no humor, and I couldn’t blame him. I was almost ready to wet my pants. “My mom and Paul let me name him.” Then he became serious again, dark. “They took my brother.”

“They took two of them already,” Thalia interjected, crossing her arms, “but…how? That kid—Fyn—he’s not even born yet.”

Jack quickly explained to us how the Dark Olympians came back in time, and I couldn’t help but blurt, “But you gave yourself to Kronos! Why would he then—”

Yeah, I never got to finish that sentence.

“Are you insane?” Thalia screamed. “How could even—”

“—think about doing something like that?” Luke finished. “Did you learn nothing—”

“—from the first prophecy?” Nico took over. “Does my father need to blast you before you—”

A piercing whistle drowned out the shrills, and I whirled toward Annabeth, who pulled her fingers from her lips. Then, with her eyes flaming and her body tense, she stormed forward. “Perseus Jackson, how could even you be that stupid?”

Ouch.

“How could submitting to Kronos ever be a good strategy?”

Jack met her eyes, soft and haunted, before he reached up to touch her cheek. He didn’t, though. His hand hovered just by her skin, as if to feel its warmth but not its sacred touch. Then, he pulled away. “Perhaps the greatest weapon we lacked in the future was wisdom.” Then he met Chiron’s eyes. “I need to finish this.”

Chiron’s stern face remained firm. “You must do what you must,” he allowed.

Permission granted, Jack nodded once, barely gave us a dismissive glance, and dashed toward the sound. Only once he was out of sight did Chiron’s expression grow grim. It made me wonder how many warriors he’s trained and waited for them to return. It made me wonder if I would be one of them.

Chiron cleared his throat. “Percy, you have your own quest to conquer. You and your companions should prepare.”

Prepare? I was ready to tear the Dark Olympians apart, gods or not.

I looked to Annabeth, who had blanched considerably. There was an unwritten rule at camp: you just don’t mess with siblings. You dunked a kid of Apollo? The whole bunk strung your underwear across the trees with their arrows. You tried to feed a child of Demeter to Peleus? You found thorns where you never knew they could be.

The only person closer to Annabeth at camp than Thalia, me, Nico, and Luke (again) was Malcolm, Annabeth’s little brother by Athena. They stayed up at nights, coming up with one fantastic idea after another for rebuilding Olympus.

I usually passed out from boredom by eight-thirty during one of their sessions.

Anyway, those were demigod brothers and sisters. Mortal siblings—we were even more protective of them. They didn’t have ADHD to protect them in a battle, and many of them couldn’t even distinguish between a monster and a principal.

Wait.

“Um…guys?”

We all turned toward Nico, who actually looked like he was about to barf. “If this kid is the seventh child of the prophecy, then wouldn’t that make him a demigod?”

Oh, gods.

*^*^*

Paul and Mom were at the cabins in Montauk where I’d spent my childhood summers. They went there to get away from the war on weekends. It was a sanctuary when Mom and I were living with Gabe, and it was also where my mom and dad met. It was special to my family.

I felt violated now. I spent ten months a year living down the hall from Paul. He slept next to my mother. She was carrying his baby, and I had no idea who he was.

On top of all that, he was in my cabin.

Annabeth tried to calm me as we drove. “Try not to get too emotional. We don’t even know who this god is yet. As far as we know, Paul could even be Poseidon.”

Yeah, right.

“We’ve got your back,” Luke encouraged.

“Actually, we’ll get your mom,” Thalia said with a wink. “We’ll make sure you and Paul can some quality bonding time.”

We rode up to the beach and cut the lights and engine a good quarter mile away. As we crept toward the cabin, I felt on edge, waiting for an attack. Thalia and Luke snuck into the cabin after we saw Paul lingering outside, looking up at the encompassing night.

To say I might have been angry when I jumped him was an understatement.

“Percy! What are you—”

I slammed him against the wall and pinned his shirt with Riptide. “WHO ARE YOU?”

Thinking back, I probably could have handled that better. After all, attacking a god—it’s never really a good thing, but I had my friends with me. Together, we could accomplish anything.

My full and enraged attention was set on Paul, watching as he winced.

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m your stepfather. I’m a teacher from Manhattan. You know the rest—”

“I know nothing other than the fact that my not-even-born-yet little brother is the seventh child in a prophecy, which means he has to be a demigod.” My hands scrunched his shirt collar. “Which means you’re not mortal.”

I honestly thought this was it. After surviving prophecies and monsters and the eleventh grade, I thought Paul was going to blast me to bits, but his face held no anger, his voice only remorse. He smiled gently and kindly and nodded toward the silver band on my wrist, which I still had yet to take off.

“Haven’t you guessed by now?”

I looked down at the band, remembering the fight I had with Fyn. He’d worn one of these as well, and when we clashed, lightning had surrounded us both, protected us from hurting each other or being hurt—too much. Apparently, Algos could still pack a punch.

I looked directly at Paul and couldn’t believe it. “Zeus…?”

My uncle and my mom? Ew.

He laughed, and his face smoothed. What once was the good-natured and easy-going features of my mother’s husband and my teacher became that of a collected and powerful individual. Even his voice sharpened, his tone formal.

This was no longer Paul Blofis.

“No, dearest child, but you are close. I am known by many names, Diespiter Optimus Maximus, Tonans, even Caelestis.”

Annabeth gasped. “Jupiter.”

“Yes, wise child.”

“Wait. Hold on a sec.” I put up a finger and took a step back. “Jupiter—like Zeus’s counterpart in the Roman gods?”

Paul-Jupiter tugged Riptide from the wall like it was a toothpick and handed it back to me. “Yes. The very same one.”

Okay, this was too much. First, my dad is the ruler of the seas, and now my stepdad is the ruler of the Roman gods? And you thought your parents were weird.

I shook my head, trying to wrap my brain around this. It took a few moments. I just stared at Paul, waiting for him to change to his godly form or something, but then I remembered his touch, full of power and knowing. I thought of how he seemed to be okay with learning who my dad was, almost like he’d expected it, and when I accidentally set fire to his school, he still found a way to get me in.

After I thought it out—or at least jumbled it about my head—I asked the only question I could think of, “Why Mom? Why’d you marry her? And how many other wives do you have?”

That charming smile came out, not like he was patronizing me or anything. In fact, it was like, again, he’d expected this.

“I only have one wife currently, your mother. I am divorced—twice. Juno and I had a falling out a few millennia ago over curtains, and Ceres and I parted when being married to your sister became socially unacceptable.”

Again with the Ew.

“But why my mom?” I pressed. “Why not somebody else?”

The answer came naturally. “Because I love her.”

Love? I saw the way he looked at my mom, the way his eyes softened and his face relaxed. He looked at her like she was the goddess and he was the mortal. He did love her, and he protected her.

That was more than I could ever say about Poseidon, but I was still pissed.

Paul seemed to notice and clasped my shoulder. “Look, I understand this is a lot to take in, and trust me. I didn’t want you to find out this way, but your mother is a very special woman. You are a very special kid, and I’m proud and honored to be part of your lives.”

I tore away from him. “Why didn’t you tell me or Mom?”

He shrugged, an honest motion. “I was afraid. I’m the Roman god of thunder and the sky. Though I am not part of your other life, I am more aware of the Greek gods and their audacity than you are. I’ve been dealing with them since we were all conceived, and how do you think Poseidon would have taken it if his brother’s Roman counterpart helped to raise you? Hell, slept two doors down from you?”

Yeah, I couldn’t imagine Dad taking that too well. Of course, we hardly saw each other, and I could pretty much count on two hands how many times I’ve actually spent time with Poseidon my whole life.

And when I say “spend time,” I mean “speak four words to the god.”

“But you’re a god!” I challenged. “What does it matter to you if Poseidon’s okay with it or not?”

“I’m a Roman god,” he asserted. “Power in godly terms is determined by who is most influential in Western—or Eastern—Civilizations. Right now, the Greek gods dominate the West, so the power I have is a fraction compared to Zeus’s. What little I have I give to you.” He grabbed my wrist, and the silver band lit up. “To protect you.”

I immediately felt violated again and began to scrabbled at the wrist. I needed to get it off. “What is this?” I demanded, the knot that hugged my wrist as tight as ever. “You mark me as your own? For what? To be your first lieutenant?”

“Why do you think the Roman gods fell so out of power, Percy?”

“I don’t care.”

He ruffled my hair, despite my discomfort. “We wanted to raise kids, not warriors. That is simply to protect you.”

“But what if I don’t want it?” I seriously didn’t want his “gift,” not if it came from him.

Juniper shrugged, and it seemed too awkward, him being a god and all. “You’re fighting against the power of a god, Percy. How do you think you’re going to fare?”

“Mr. Blofis, or, um…my lord…” Annabeth came forward. “We…um…we’re actually here for another reason.”

“We are?” I asked.

Paul crossed his arms, looking mildly interested, and nodded like I’d seem him with the over-achievers in class who fought with him over some vague point in literature. Again, I didn’t care other than the fact that Annabeth wasn’t focusing on getting the wristband off my arm.

Annabeth quickly recapped the last few days, and Thalia, Nico, and Luke came out the cabin once all the shouting ended. Finally, Annabeth spurted the favor.

Paul blinked. “You want me to what?

The warm summer waves cresting against the beach soothed my nerves.

Annabeth spoke rapidly, like she usually did about skyscrapers and monuments. “So to get into the Doors of Death, we need to speak with Mors.”

“The Roman God of Death,” Paul supplied incredulously.

“Exactly. He might have some idea of how to get to the Doors.”

Paul watched Annabeth carefully, as if trying to determine if she was truly serious or not, before casting a sideways glance at Luke. His eyes then danced across Thalia and Nico before finally landing on me.

“You’re not serious,” he practically pleaded with me. “Don’t ask me help you get back to the Underworld. The first time I didn’t want to convince your mother.”

That wasn’t my first time, but I didn’t volunteer that information. Thalia had no problem doing it for me.

“Technically, we’ve all been there.” She pointed to Luke. “Died.” She pointed to Nico. “Dad’s the God of the Underworld.” She pointed to Annabeth and me. “The three of us have traveled there for various quests, and as you know, sir, Percy bathed in one of the rivers.”

He did a double-take at me. “You actually went through with that?”

I glared at Thalia. “Thank you!”

She grimaced. “Perhaps I should wait in the van.”

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” Paul wrapped an arm about my neck—hard—and steered me away from the group. “What is wrong with you? You should never go into the Underworld, whether you’re alive or dead or bathing in their rivers? You are bright. I know this. You sit in my class.”

I tried to wrestle away from him, but man, for a forever-old guy, he was strong. “I have no choice.”

I quickly explained how Thanatos and Hypnos attacked Thalia and me on the roof, about Luke’s home, even about Jack. I kinda left out that the seventh kid of the prophecy his kid, though. I mean, I mentioned it before, but actually explaining the whole situation? That was a little too weird, even for me.

Paul finally let out a growling sigh and looked toward the sunset. It was only four, so why it was going down so soon was beyond me.

“Jack already came to me,” he admitted.

I blinked. “What?”

“When he came back in time, he asked me to look out for your mother. Out of everyone he loved, she lived, and he wanted to keep it that way.” He patted me on the shoulder. “All right, I’ll tell you, but if I hear you’ve so much as gotten a scratch down there, so help you, I will ream your hide out. Do I make myself clear?”

I still had no idea why he cared, but I shrugged noncommittally.

“And you never tell your mother I told you this, okay? She’d kill me.”

“Got it.”

“And watch out for the little dead-kid. He’s a little creepy.”

I looked back at Nico, who was having fun scaring a seagull by shadow jumping in front of it and then behind it.

“He’s okay normally. So, who is Mors?”

“Who else?” He shrugged. “He’s the police commissioner of Newark.”

*^*^*

I went inside to hi to my mom, and she fed us some blue pancakes and milkshakes. The baby was coming along just fine, and the doctor said it would be too long before we meet Fyn.

I mean, Guppy Jackson-Blofis.

I didn’t like that Paul kept this from me. It wasn’t so much that it hurt, but that it unnerved me how another god had come into Mom’s life. First Poseidon, who didn’t do anything to really help us, and now Paul, king of the Roman gods.

Why couldn’t my mom marry some nice rich guy?

We didn’t go back to camp. The five of us were to embark on this journey anyway, and we had backtracked after Triton. The sooner this whole quest was over, the better. I couldn’t believe I was thinking that, considering I loved being quests. They were like my purpose in life: to save the world—over and over and over again.

I still had no idea why, but according to the Go-teed Man, this was what I deserved. Go figure.

We stopped at a run-down motel on the opposite side of the GWB. In the morning, we’d go see Mors. I sat one of the double beds, watching TV absently. Nico was passed out at my feet. After losing Triton and Tyson and now learning about Paul and Fyn—Hades, Annabeth!—I didn’t feel like I could protect him, no matter how much I wanted to.

Most of my attention was focused on Luke, Annabeth, and Thalia. Annabeth and Thalia were on the opposite bed, discussing how a Roman godling could be intertwined with a Greek prophecy when Luke sat down next to them. At first, Annabeth seemed to listen to every word from him like it was written by Athena herself. She was a baby sister worshipping a perfect, older brother (whom we won’t mention almost helped destroy the world).

Then, when the conversation ended, Annabeth sat on the edge of the bed to watch the news while Luke and Thalia snuggled agianst the backboard, Luke’s arm around Thalia’s shoulders. As a hunter, she had sworn off men (friends were okay but not really looked highly upon). Here, she wrapped her arms about his torso and leaned into him like he was her boyfriend.

The weatherman, Simon Snowstorm—or something equally as lame—popped up on screen. “I still don’t understand it, Bob. According to all our data, the sun should have risen at 6:54 this morning and set at 5:28. Why it didn’t hit the sky until after eight and set just after four is beyond me.”

Weird, but I didn’t pay much attention to it.

Eventually, Annabeth came to sit next to me, a tender but sad smile upon her face. “You okay?”

A twitch of the shoulder. “I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t think Paul—Jupiter—meant to put you or Fyn in any danger.”

“But he did, y’know!” I couldn’t take it anymore. “He never thought about anyone else but himself. He wanted a family, so he married my mom.”

“He was in love with her.”

“He had to have a kid with her, one who would be the seventh child in the prophecy.”

“I don’t think that he was intention.”

“But it happened, all because he’s a god.”

Annabeth glowered. “What are you saying, Percy? That gods shouldn’t have children?”

“If we’re going to be nothing more than pawns in war and prophecies to extend their reign, then yeah, maybe I am.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

That I’d never been born? Yeah, I knew that, but if I hadn’t, then Triton and Tyson would still be alive. (They wouldn’t have born either, but...) Maybe Fyn wouldn’t be a brainwashed captive of the Dark Olympians. I wouldn’t have given myself to Kronos. I wouldn’t be dying a slow death.

I looked at the tears in Annabeth’s eyes. I wouldn’t have been too late to save her.

Without another word, I got up and stormed from the room. I slept in the van that night.

*^*^*

Demigod dreams suck, but I’ve already gone over that.

That night, I dreamt of Luke. He stood just outside our motel room’s door, his arms crossed, a look of disdain upon his fair features.

“I seriously don’t know why you’re even here,” he spat. “Last time, you didn’t care about me. Why do you now?”

From around the corner came Hermes in his jogging suit, and the resemblance I saw almost made me smile. Each one wore of scornful pout, but Luke looked ready to stomp away. He did not want to hear anything his dad had to say.

“Your mother is just asking—”

“I will come home, but I need to this.”

“To prove what? That you’re on our side this time?”

“Maybe, yes, but…I know this is my fight. This prophecy includes me again, and I want to see it through.”

“We still don’t know how you aged, and Percy Jackson says you die.”

“Well, then, I still have one more life to reach Elysium.”

Hermes looked sad, even broken, but he wasn’t going to try to deter Luke anymore. Instead, he handed Luke a beat-up bookbag. “At least take these. You will need them.”

Luke opened the bag, peeked inside, and then quickly shut it. “They’re not connected to Tartarus, are they?”

My dream switched, and I saw Jack kneeling below a tree filled with golden apples. I’d seen it before. This was at the base of Mount Othrys, where I fought Atlas, where Annabeth and Artemis had been made to the hold the sky.

Where Zoe Nightshade died.

I couldn’t believe it. Jack sat before four beautiful women, the Hesperides, whom I remembered as Zoe’s sisters. They were complete and total…um…They weren’t very nice to Zoe, and I hated them for it. Yet here Jack sat and waited, speaking with them in cool, almost practiced ease.

“Hemera sent me to you. She says you know where the seventh child is being held.”

One of the sisters raked her hand through Jack’s hair. Another wrapped a seductive arm about his shoulders. The last crouched down to be the same height, petting his cheek with a spiteful smirk.

“And why should we tell you, young god?”

“Because if you don’t,” Jack smirked in return, “I’ll drown this orchard and you.”

“Zeus and Hera would not appreciate that.”

Jack laughed. “You think they appreciate my existence?”

The crouching Hesperide bent close to Jack, her lips mere inches from his. “Our mother will appreciate you. Give her what she wants, and in return, she’ll release the boy.”

Jack didn’t squirm. “You know I can’t do that.”

She smirked, and an ominous shadow crept upon Jack from behind. He glanced over his shoulder at the dragon, which hissed with poisonous saliva and smoky nostrils.

“Perhaps Ladon can change your mind.”

The monster lunged.

To Be Continued…