bound for stormy weather: the lightning thief - Chapter 1 - abbzeh - Percy Jackson and the Olympians (2024)

Chapter Text

The Moirai were not kind.

They were not cruel for the sake of cruelty, either, but they could never, would never, ostensibly be called kind. Perhaps the correct vernacular that could be applied to them would be constant. The Moirai were a constant, always spinning the thread of a being’s life that would eventually make up a complex tapestry, always eventually cutting the thread of someone’s life, whether that being was a regular mortal or divine deity. It didn’t matter if they were the Fates of the southern religions, the Nornir of the Norsem*n, or the Wyrd Sisters of the sceptred isle – they were as they were, and they would always be.

They were constant. They were what had been, what was, and what was to come.

And the three sisters did not like what they saw in the south, through the eyes of their thread-spinning manifestations. They saw the ungratefulness of the prideful King of Heaven, the blind eyes the gods turned towards their children. They saw the mess that gods had they themselves created, a grave of their own digging, through ignoring their own children. They saw how the wars for the future were only barely won, scraping by with a loss to life.

They saw.

They saw.

They saw.

They saw it all, and they wanted it to change.

(And for destiny to change, there must be both fate and balance.)

Olympus, for once, was quiet. The great cloud city’s denizens milled about the many markets – Christmas markets, in fact. Even immortals had to do their Christmas shopping, after all. Christmas originating from the Celt and Norse pantheons, notwithstanding – and wandered through the city’s many lush gardens, stopping at the great sparkling palatial fountains to throw drachmae into the crystal waters. It could almost be considered peaceful, something that the inhabitants of Olympus greedily soaked up. However, all the denizens of Olympus, and regular visitors, were also holding their breaths.

Quietness on Olympus was just the calm before the storm, after all. And with it being the Winter Solstice, one of the most important days of the year, the immortal inhabitants almost certainly expected a storm, whether that be a lightning storm or sea storm. After all, the council had just started its session, and unlike the Summer Solstice – where it’s just Poseidon and Zeus – this time it’s all three of the elder brothers together. The three of them together spelt bickering, petty fights, and natural disasters.

(There had been one solstice meeting, several years ago, that had gone so poorly, Japan had been flooded with a triple-sized tsunami. Lightning storms had caused wildfires in other parts of the world, and there had been a truly beastly earthquake near California. As a rule, Olympus’s residents didn’t speak of that year, preferring to refer to it as the Incident. Apollo had jokingly called it the Winter of Discontent.

Ganymede had been seen, just before the council began its session, with Ariadne and Soteria. They all seemed to be hoping that nothing would go wrong this year.)

No, the city’s inhabitants were, perhaps in vain, just hoping for a quiet and peaceful council meeting. They dutifully ignored Asclepius and Epione, along with their four daughters, readying the infirmary, just in case. There’s absolutely no reason why anything, anything at all, should go wrong this year!

(Somewhere in the distant future, Nemesis and Tyche started laughing.)

In the Hall of the Gods, the place where all Olympian meetings were held, peace was devolving, and tensions were rising as smoke rises to the ceiling. All had been going well for a while – there had only been a few snipes between Poseidon, Hades, and Zeus (“Mother Rhea loved you more!” “Don’t be ridiculous, Brother. Being around all those dead people is clouding – heh – your judgement!”); Athena and Ares had yet to declare war on each other, though they still stonily glared at each other; Aphrodite continued to ignore the dark looks that Artemis sent her, preferring to tinker with her new communication device and talk with her mother, courtesy of Hephaestus’ newest phone creation.

It was Dionysus who chose to set the powder keg off.

“Personally, Father,” he said, not sparing even the slightest glance up from his magazine, “I think you could scrounge up a much more befitting punishment for me.” He paused to casually turn a page, taking a brief second to glance over the top of his portable entertainment. Zeus was staring at him, obviously mid-fight with Hades. Wonderful. “I’m sure you’ve noticed now that I’m not… fit… to be that little camp’s director. I just don’t have the caring touch needed to – watch out for and care for the youth of today. I am sure dear, sweet Hebe would be a much better director.” Plus, he was certain that she despised her husband as much as everyone else did. Sweet Hebe would probably appreciate the chance to get away from the dolt Heracles and spend time with children. Unlike Dionysus, who missed his wife dearly.

If Dionysus was slightly dramatic, that was neither here nor there. Drama and theatre were his domains. Zeus may have restricted his access to his primary domain of alcohol and wine – and how that stung, being cut off from one’s own powers. How would his dearest father feel, he wondered, if he were to be cut off from his lightning? – but he at least could still indulge in some fun. To be left with naught but drama and madness was, well, maddening.

Zeus stared at him with narrowed eyes. The other gods stopped their conversations to watch what was happening. Some had intrigue in their eyes, some simply watched on in boredom, probably wondering when they could go and get lunch.

“Your punishment,” Zeus finally said, after a moment of terse silence, “is not meant for Hebe. She is not the one who disobeyed my orders.” From the side, there was a very vague cough, though Dionysus couldn’t tell who it came from. His father frowned at him. “If you are so incapable of caring for a bunch of demigod children, that sounds like a you problem, Dionysus. And that is precisely why you are down there.”

At Zeus’ side, Hera let out a disapproving scoff. “None of you should even have demigod offspring.” She sniffed and looked down her nose at the rest of them, particularly her stepchildren. “Most of you are married. You shouldn’t be leaving the marriage bed for a mortal.”

Aphrodite finally looked up from her phone, her eyes turning into dark-night storm clouds as she regarded Hera. “You forget, little niece of mine, that marriage and unions also fall into my dominion.” She flashed Hera a cold smile, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees. “And let me assure you of one thing – your concept of marriage is not the only valid one.”

Hera’s nostrils flared as anger settled across her face. Dionysus immediately abandoned his magazine, carefully placing it between his leg and the inside of his throne. This, he decided, was much better entertainment. Even he couldn’t create something as glorious as this for Olymp-TV. Even Janus, dithering bastard that he was, couldn’t create TV specials like this.

“There are no other concepts of marriage!” Hera hissed out, clenching the arm of her throne. Her knuckles were slowly turning white, and it seemed she didn’t realise that everyone was watching her little meltdown. “Once you are joined in matrimony, that should be it! No straying eyes and thoughts, and certainly no wandering hands and sleeping in the bed of another!”

She punctuated the end of her statement with a fierce glare towards Zeus. Aphrodite just snorted, hiding her mouth behind a suddenly-materialised hand fan.

“You are describing monogamy, dear niece,” Aphrodite said, something in her tone that Dionysus couldn’t quite identify. Coolness, perhaps? Or blandness? Her eyes remained dark and stormy, her hair glimmering gold, and she looked every bit the cold and cruel daughter of Ouranos that she was – something that most of them often forgot about, even the elder gods. “And if monogamy works for you, then that’s wonderful. It works for a lot of people, a lot of immortals.”

Hera sneered at her.

“But, my dear,” Aphrodite continued, her tone still cool like her mother’s watery domain, “that does not work for everyone. Some people are polyamorous.” She tilted her head to the side as she regarded the Queen of Heaven. “Have you never even considered the possibility of open marriages, darling?”

“I – what?” Hera spluttered, clenching at the throne even more as she glared Aphrodite down. “Open marriages?!”

“Several of us have them,” Poseidon jumped in, offering his sister a Look. “Amphitrite and I keep our own company, but we always go back to one another.” He flicked his eyes towards Zeus, and Dionysus saw something flash in the sea-green irises for a brief second. “Of course, it helps when both parties are communicative and actually aware of the marriage’s nature, so they don’t go into a jealous rage over their partner’s children and try and kill them.” Poseidon raised his hands in a vague shrug. “But what do I know?”

Oof, Hera was really starting to look angry.

“You are still leaving the marriage bed!” she snarled out, eyes flashing. Dionysus idly wondered if this would be the time that his dear stepmother finally cracked and snapped. “It doesn’t matter what you call it!” She gave them all an imperious look. “You are still leaving your families, causing destruction and ruin to them just for a bit of fun!”

Across from Dionysus, Hephaestus let out his own snort of derision. “You’d know all about destruction in the family, wouldn’t you?” he muttered, not looking up from the item with which he was tinkering. Dionysus thought he spied Aglaia’s name on the side of the bronze metal. Hera shot him a dirty look.

“Indeed,” Hades murmured softly, black eyes gleaming as he regarded his brother and sister. Dionysus fully leant back in his throne, ready to watch the fight that was sure to break out. “Perhaps they are perfect for one another. After all, they do like murdering children that aren’t theirs.”

Zeus’ eyes flashed bright with sheet lightning, his jaw visibly grinding. Just as he was making to stand up – either to shield the Queen of Heaven or to start a physical fight with the Lord of the Dead, Dionysus couldn’t accurately say. Whatever his plan was, though, it was interrupted by a flash of sun-star-bright golden light, radiance and brightness that blinded even their immortal retinas and filled the entire room.

When the bright light eventually faded away – after seconds or minutes, or even hours, Dionysus wasn’t sure – the assembled gods were left staring at a group of teenagers, standing in the centre of the room.

As Poseidon blinked away the residual light, the black afterimages that had burned themselves into his retinas, there came a muttered curse, several voices speaking over each other in apparent bemusem*nt and confusion. Focusing his gaze past the lights that had appeared in his vision, Poseidon looked towards the source of the noise.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see, in all honesty. The sight that greeted him hadn’t ever been on his scope of possibility, though – so far from it that he hadn’t even stopped to consider it.

In the centre of the room were a group of what he could assume were demigods, judging by their appearances and resemblances to some of the gods in the room with them, as well as a satyr and even a mortal, though Poseidon could sense she had been blessed in some way.

It was, overall, quite an eclectic collection of people. They were talking amongst each other, gesturing about themselves with frantic arms and seemingly ignoring the presence of the gods. The tall girl with the bandana looked furious for some reason, and the shiny boy who looked like a miniature Apollo looked like he was three seconds away from screaming into the void.

It was another few moments before any of them even noticed the presence of the Olympians. The tall black haired boy and blonde girl both glanced in the direction of the thrones, and they both instantly stiffened. The girl narrowed her eyes at them, grey eyes flashing like steel, and the boy’s jaw clenched, sea-like eyes going stormy.

(Poseidon tried not to feel like the sight wasn’t a punch to the gut, nor a hit of confusion to the head. How was it his son, his boy, was there in front of him? How was it he looked older than his nine years of age? And Poseidon was certain that it was his boy – the sea knew that which came from it, and he knew all his children by sight.)

His boy, Perseus, looked up, jaw remaining clenched, towards the ceiling. His arms crossed over his chest, fingers digging into the exposed skin. “Why?!”

By that point, the other demigods and such had noticed just who they were standing before and, curiously enough, were all wearing varying expressions of resignation, steadily building anger, or downright fury. Even the tiny dark-skinned girl, mostly hidden by the larger Asian boy, looked ready to gut someone alive, even if that person was a god. The bandana girl clenched a fist and outright glared at the gods, taking extra time to glare in Ares’ direction.

“What the f*ck?!” she snapped out, and Poseidon was absolutely sure that the girl was one of Ares’, just going by the strength of her glare and language alone. “It’s been what? A week? And you can’t let us even have that?” She threw her hands in the air. “What the f*ck do we have to do to just f*cking rest?”

Poseidon blinked at the outburst, having a feeling that many of his fellow council members were doing the same thing. He stared down at his son, who was still looking stonily up at the ceiling, as if he thought that by ignoring the gods, he could pretend he wasn’t on Olympus. That he was doing that at all was… mildly worrying to Poseidon, to say the least.

It was Hestia who eventually spoke up, standing from her place at the hearth and making her way towards the group of gathered children. She was still in her preferred form of a nine-year-old girl, still smaller than the demigods themselves, yet the calm and warmth she radiated seemed to fill the entire room.

“We do not know why you’re here, children,” she said, voice gentle and warm, bringing her hands together. “It was not us who brought you here, nor do we know who did.”

The blonde girl let out a snort, her nostrils flaring in a way that eerily resembled Athena. Well, at least he knew who that child’s parent was.

“It’s always something,” Perseus muttered, seemingly not caring whether or not the gods heard him. He finally tore his eyes away from the ceiling and glared into the distance, eyes stormy. “A break. Is that so much to ask for, after everything that’s happened?” He let out a bone-deep sigh, sounding more done with the current situation than Poseidon was comfortable with. “What do I have to do to get a f*cking nap?” He turned green eyes upon the council once more, not a hint of fear within them, only deep seated annoyance and, if the bruise-dark rings were anything to go by, exhaustion. “You want me to go kill something again? Is that it? You want me to traipse halfway around the world to go defeat an ancient evil whilst you sit back and relax? What do I have to do to get some gods-damned sleep?”

His voice turned sharp at the end, brittle like winter. The blonde girl, Athena’s child, carefully placed her hand on his arm before trailing it down to his hand, squeezing it gently. Hestia took another step forward, her hands opening into an inviting gesture. Poseidon couldn’t see her face clearly with the angle he was currently sitting, but he imagined it was the one where her face was warm and inviting.

“We mean you no harm, child,” she said gently, carefully laying a hand upon his other arm. “We truly have no idea who brought you here, and,” she sent a look over her shoulder, warning them to stay quiet, “we wouldn’t bring you here just for a quest.”

Perseus was silent for a long moment, simply breathing. Eventually, he seemed to relax, looking down at Hestia. He slowly nodded, casting his gaze behind him to the other startled demigods. There was one dark haired girl among them with stormy blue eyes who kept glaring up at Zeus with surprising vitriol. “I suppose if there’s anyone here I would believe, it would be you, Lady Hestia.”

Hestia smiled, still so warm and gentle. If it were anyone else, Poseidon would probably be stung, but even he thought the same – there was no other god in the room he trusted more than Hestia. Before more could be said, there was another flash of light, this one a mere spark compared to the supernova that had filled the room earlier, and he found himself drawing his gaze towards the disturbance.

Where the flash had just appeared and faded, there was a piece of paper floating downwards. Everyone watched it for a moment, watched as it landed on Artemis’ lap without so much as a sound. Artemis raised her eyebrows at the newest interruption, but picked it up regardless. Her eyes quickly scanned down the page, and her eyebrows raised higher, to the point where Poseidon wondered if they were about to leave her face entirely.

“It’s a note,” she supplied, taking her eyes off the paper. They flickered over the assembled group of children, then over the rest of the council members. “Addressed to all of us here.”

“Well?!” Zeus snapped, glancing between her and the stormy-eyed girl – who looked as though she was thinking about gutting a good portion of the Olympians – and clenching his jaw, “What does it say?”

Artemis met her father’s gaze for a moment, her moon-silver aura seeming to shimmer brighter for a second, before returning her eyes back to the page. Rather than reading it out, she tapped on the paper once with her pointer finger, and swirls of gold and silver lifted themselves off the note. The swirls formed themselves into letters and words and punctuation, and Poseidon forced his gaze away from his child to read through – whatever the stars was happening.

Dear immortals, demigods, and otherwise,

You have been brought together so you can fix the mistakes that have yet to be made, and restore balance to the world (no pressure though). To do this, none of you will be permitted to leave this temporary space – do not worry, though. The flow of time has been stopped beyond here, so feel free to take as long as you need, and you still have access to most of temporary Olympus.

You will have to read through (or listen to – there ’s a read-aloud feature that we put in! We thought you demigods might appreciate (or appreci-hate) it) some books. Immortals, these tell of your future, and the future that the group before you has lived through. Demigods, they tell of your recent past. Olympians, DO try and learn something, won’t you?

This is also, however, a punishment, or a lesson in humility, for you immortals – particularly the prideful King of Heaven. In line with that – and to maintain balance in this room – the powers of the gods will be restricted so that they cannot smite people whenever they feel like it. Furthermore, while we have granted you this opportunity to learn and be better, it comes with a price. This price shall become apparent very quickly.

Warmest regards,

Nemesis Adrasteia x Tyche Agathe x the Moirai

(P.S. here is something to make the proceedings … easier. We may bring more things later on.)

Poseidon stared at the glowing words, still floating in mid-air, with what he knew was incredulousness. Worry once again churned in his gut like an oncoming storm – not for himself. He could deal with temporarily losing his powers. He was worried about whatever future his child had just been plucked from. Forcing out a calm exhale, he gripped the arm of his throne in a white-knuckle grip, fixing his gaze back on the group of teenagers.

There was another flash, again not as bright as the first one. When the light faded, there was another person standing a short distance away from the other demigods, looking bewildered to say the least. The moment the blond boy noticed him, though, there was a cry of, “Leo!” and several of the children swarmed toward the newly named ‘Leo’. Feeling awkward watching what was a very emotional reunion, Poseidon turned his attention back to his fellow gods, just in time to find Hermes staring dejectedly at where the note had just been hovering.

“Tyche!” Hermes cried from the side. Around him, Poseidon could hear his fellow Olympians trying to activate certain powers. Clearly, they were having no luck. Zeus’ teeth grinding could be heard over the din. Abruptly, Poseidon found himself shrinking down to mortal size, the rest of the Olympians following. He guessed that was the result of having his powers restricted. “Her wife is such a bad influence!”

“You’re a bad influence,” Athena snapped back, sounding irritated. “If the Fates have got themselves involved, as well as Tyche and Nemesis – and I note that they’ve signed that letter with their full names – then we can’t avoid this.” She let out a weary sounding sigh, and Poseidon glanced at her just in time to see her lean back in her throne, which had also shrunk with its owner. “It seems we must read these books they mentioned.”

At the mention of the books, there was another flash. When it faded, there lay a pile of books on the floor near Demeter’s feet. Frowning, the goddess bent down and gingerly plucked the first one from the pile, turned it over in her hands. From what Poseidon could see, the book was nondescript, bound in simple brown paper.

“There’s no title,” Demeter said, turning the book over in her hands once more, as though hoping words would magically appear on the plain cover. “Just a number.” She glanced down at the pile again. “And the next one has a number, too.”

“They must be the order in which we read them, then,” Athena guessed, tapping her cheek in what Poseidon recognised as her thinking pose. Her eyes snapped down to the demigods again. “Perhaps our guests should introduce themselves”

Hestia, still standing before Perseus, smiled gently. The whole room, along with Poseidon’s chest, seemed to warm with the action. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, niece.” She turned her fire-warm eyes on the whole group of children and gestured to them, inviting them to say their names.

Somehow, through some godsent miracle, they managed to get through the children’s introductions with no bodily injuries, and only one threat from Zeus. Zeus, upon seeing and hearing that Poseidon had a child, had been ready to start another argument, possibly threaten Perseus’ life – not that Poseidon would let that happen, of course. Not when there were two of Zeus’ offspring in the very same group, and from the same woman, even if the blond boy (Jason) was Roman. Demeter also had to restrain Athena from physically attacking the Roman demigods, which… not a great look for the goddess of wisdom. Poseidon knew how she felt, held some of the same bitterness towards the Romans, but the kids in this room couldn’t help it. His anger was at the Romans long dead, at an emperor foolish enough to declare war on him. Certainly, he still held his distaste towards the Romans, of course – they were disrespectful of his kin and legacies, and saw him as little more than a abyssal being to be mollified (and they didn’t even do that very well. He knew of the state of Neptune’s, his, temple in New Rome). The Romans in this room though seemed to hold his child in high regard, and for that he would stay his judgement.

When Hestia had said that the children should sit with their parents or patrons, Poseidon had moved so quickly that no one registered him, gently taking Perseus by the arm and bringing him back to a newly materialised sofa, close to Hestia’s hearth. He paid no attention to the looks he was getting – time was not flowing in this place; therefore the Ancient Laws didn’t apply to them at the current moment in time, which meant Zeus could do absolutely nothing but turn purple in rage. Perseus – Percy, Poseidon, corrected himself – looked at him with a raised eyebrow, to which Poseidon merely raised an eyebrow back, daring him to argue. Percy stared at him for another moment, seemingly searching his face for something, before slumping down against the back of the sofa. With nary a thought, Poseidon summoned a blanket for his child.

Once everyone had settled down – Hermes with his sons, Apollo with his equally-shiny child, Thalia, Zeus’ daughter, (who had dragged Annabeth, the daughter of Athena) with Artemis, and so on – Demeter leant back against the cushions of her sofa, her daughter mirroring her movements. She still had the first book in her hand, still as plain as it was when she first picked it up. Opening it, she raised her eyebrows.

“I accidentally vaporise my pre-algebra teacher,” she read out, doubt in her voice.

The satyr, sat by Dionysus, let out a sound that seemed to be something between a snort and a groan. “Of course it’s from Percy’s perspective.”

Demeter regarded Percy for a long moment before letting out a sigh. “You need more cereal in your diet,” she said solemnly.

Hades’ eye twitched, like he was considering sororicide as a viable solution to all his problems. “Nobody needs more cereal in their diet, woman!” he snapped out, bringing a hand up to massage his temples.

“And nobody needs their daughter stolen from under their very nose, but here we are!”

“For f*cks’ sake, Demeter, Persephone made the choice to come down to the underworld willingly. It was her choice! As we have said for three thousand years!”

Demeter pulled herself up to her full height, book nearly falling from her hands. “A likely story! As if my poor Kore would go somewhere so dark and lifeless willingly.”

“Well, she did! You can ask her yourself when you see her!”

“Maybe I will! Maybe I’ll bring Baubo with me when I do!”

Lightning flickered around them, making the lights nervously flash. Hades and Demeter both snapped their heads over to Zeus, who was glaring at them. “If you could please begin any time soon, I’m sure we would all be grateful,” he growled out, gripping the armrests of his newly appeared armchair menacingly, though the effect was ruined by the appearance of said chair: red, overstuffed, and covered in bobbles.

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

Zeus’ girl, Thalia, let out a snort, carefully keeping an arm Annabeth’s shoulders, like she was afraid she was either going to pass out from exhaustion or attack one of the gods. “Do any of us?” she asked, a touch bitterly. Her eyes flicked to her father and stepmother, and she grimaced.

Piper sighed in agreement. “It’s… not been ideal,” she said haltingly, ignoring the looks her mother sent her. She glanced around the room at her fellow demigods. She seemingly tried, and failed, not to shiver. Poseidon wondered just what thoughts were going through the girl’s mind to cause that reaction.

In fact, as he looked around at the assembled demigods before him, he could only see a sea of grim expressions. None of the children were happy about their divine heritage, and Poseidon could only wonder, with a sense of trepidation, why that was.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is:

“Ooh, advice from Prissy,” Clarisse, the angry bandana-wearing daughter of Ares, said, an almost playful sneer in her tone. Poseidon glanced over at her. She seemed to be mostly joking, rolling her eyes fondly, so he assumed that the girl was one of his boy’s friends. However strange that friendship might be, he thought privately.

“Percy’s advice can either go really well or really bad,” Katie Gardner, Demeter’s daughter, said with a small smile.

close this book right now … and try to lead a normal life.

“That could work, actually,” Athena nodded, though she looked mildly disgusted at having to agree with a child of Poseidon’s. “Well, it could work for a child of a minor god. Or Aphrodite, I suppose.”

Aphrodite snapped her eyes to the resident owl lover, her face going cold even as her smile seemed to contain too many teeth. “What was that, Athena?” she asked, tone coolly sweet. Her perfectly painted fingers tapped against the arm of her sofa. “Because it sounds like you’re saying that my children and I aren’t powerful enough to remain hidden.”

Athena stared steadily back at her, unblinking. “And if I am saying that?”

Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the trainwreck unfolding before them, Demeter included. Poseidon could only watch with fascination as the immovable force that was Aphrodite was met with the unstoppable object that was his bullheaded niece.

Graceful as a hummingbird, Aphrodite stood in one fluid movement, resting one hand momentarily on her daughter’s shoulder as she did so. Drawing herself up to her full height, she stared down Athena, slowly walking towards her. Her eyes flashed between a thousand different colours, eventually settling on pale violet.

“You would do well to remember, my dear,” she began softly, coming to a stop a metre or so away from Athena, “just who I am.” She smiled again, a predatory grin. “I am the first-born of the gods, a sister of the elder Titans. You may know your way around a loom and a battlefield, but it is I who starts and ends wars. I am Aphrodite Ourania, she of the heavens; I am Aphrodite Areia, she who blesses the battlefield; I am Aphrodite Euploia, she who watches over the ships of Thalassa’s domain.” She stared down at Athena, who had yet to say anything in response. “I may be a pretty face, Athena, but I can promise you that there is more to me than that, and there is more to my children than that.”

With that, she turned on her heel, gracefully as always, and returned to her seat, placing her hand back on Piper’s shoulder. Her daughter looked rather mystified at the performance, like she’d never seen Aphrodite like that before. Poseidon could understand that. It had been quite a while since even he had seen that side of Aphrodite, so long in fact that he almost forgot what she was truly like. Athena remained silent, staring after her with a calculating look. Clarisse, on the other hand, let out an approving cheer.

Being a half-blood is dangerous … it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

“It sure does,” Hazel, Hades’ Roman daughter, murmured, shivering as she seemed to think of something. At Poseidon’s side, Percy nodded in agreement, to which he blanched.

“Why,” Poseidon asked lowly, keeping his voice even with great effort, “do you know this, Perseus?”

Percy glanced at him, looking exhausted beyond measure. “Because I’ve nearly been killed in a lot of painful, nasty ways?” There was a slight joking lilt to his voice, but even that couldn’t quite cover the scratchy bitterness that lay beneath the surface.

Poseidon frowned at him, not liking the implications there. Slowly, as to not spook him, he carefully lifted a hand to Percy’s shoulder, placing it there and gently squeezing. Percy’s eyes flickered down to it, a hint of surprise going through them as he looked back at Poseidon. Poseidon waited with baited breath, watching for Percy’s reaction. A moment passed, and Percy relaxed into the touch. Still being as gentle as he was when his child was still a newborn, Poseidon carefully pulled Percy towards him, gently getting him to rest against his shoulder.

“Rest if you need to,” he murmured, quiet enough for only his boy to hear. Percy glanced up at him. “You’re tired. I will be here.”

Percy stared at him for another moment, then slowly nodded, face relaxing as some of the tenseness drained out.

If you're a normal kid, reading this … believe that none of this ever happened.

“So my daughter and Nem have written this book… or these books… like they’re fiction books?” Hermes mused, leaning back against the cushions on his sofa. One arm was lazily draped around Chris’ shoulder and the other around Travis’, two of his sons. “Interesting. Not the route I thought they’d go.”

“I didn’t think they’d do this,” Apollo gestured around them vaguely, “at all. I did not have this on my Prophecy Bingo Card, let me tell you that.” He looked off to the side, all but pouting like the grown god he was. “I can’t believe your daughter and her wife ruined my Prophecy Bingo Card, Hermes.”

Hermes snorted. “Don’t shoot the messenger god, bro. I’m just as shocked as you.” He turned his eyes skyward, bemoaning, “I thought my girl was better than this.”

But if you recognize yourself in these pages … stop reading immediately.

Connor dramatically raised a hand to his heart. “We have to stop reading then!”

At his side, Travis nodded so quickly his hair flapped with the motion. “I feel something stirring.”

“It must be a half-blood thing!”

“Or,” Travis added, looking thoughtful as he tapped his fingers against his knees, “or it could also be indigestion. We had barbeque for lunch today, remember?”

Connor quickly nodded, a light of realisation shining in his eyes. “We did! So this is either a demigod thing or indigestion!”

Their brother, Chris, gave them both a look of long-suffering, turning to Clarisse for support. Poseidon knew how he felt.

From her seat beside her mother, Katie sent them both a fierce glare that instantly shut them both up. Connor immediately looked away from her with a flinch while Travis flushed right down to his throat.

You might be one of us. And once you know that … they'll come for you.

“Wow, it makes it sound like a cult,” Thalia grumbled, leaning against Annabeth. Annabeth hummed and nodded in agreement, shooting a look towards Percy.

“It kind of is a cult, in a way,” Leo said and, when he got a bunch of incredulous and offended looks from demigods and Olympians alike, he elaborated, “I mean, we have this entire world that only we can see and we have a spoopy green lady who tells us every other week that the end of the world is on its way.” He shrugged. “Sounds like a cult to me.”

Don't say I didn't warn you.

“Okay!” Apollo cheerfully said, saluting the book like he was in the Royal Navy. “You didn’t warn us!”

My name is Percy Jackson.

“Are you sure?” Connor asked, apparently having got over his fear of evisceration via an angry daughter of Demeter. “I coulda sworn your name was Peter Johnson?”

“Or Perry Johansson?” Travis added, sh*t-eating grin stretching across his face. Poseidon watched as Percy raised his head just enough to narrow his eyes at the two, and the brothers immediately paled.

I'm twelve years old.

“Twelve years old…” Poseidon murmured, mentally calculating the ages in his head and looking down at his child. In his current time, his child was a mere nine years old. Still a baby. Poseidon felt worry rise up in him again as he realised that his nine year old still had all of this to come, and he tightened his grip on his child’s shoulders once more. “How old are you, now?” he quietly asked, so no one else could hear them.

Percy looked up at him, tiredness briefly clouding his eyes – Mother Rhea’s eyes, Poseidon realised with a jolt – before blinking. “Oh – um – sixteen, nearly seventeen.” Percy frowned, staring at the ground before them.

There was something in Percy’s gaze that made the worry in Poseidon’s chest increased tenfold. However, his son had reached sixteen, was nearing seventeen. It meant that either one of Zeus’ offspring had shouldered the Prophecy, or his own son had saved them all from destruction. Saying nothing, Poseidon pulled him closer still, unwilling to let him go.

Until a few months ago … a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

“Oh gods, Yancy,” Grover bleated out, looking completely done with everything. Dionysus glanced across at him, eyebrows raised, but otherwise returned his attention to his magazine. Poseidon was sure it was very important to him. From what he’d heard from Rhodos, Aristaeus’ newest volume had articles on wine in it. Honeyed wine. And honeyed mead. And cheese. And since he was sure that Dionysus counted Aristaeus as one of his few friends, and Aristaeus actually knew what he was talking about – well, of course he was going to read it. Poseidon wouldn’t say anything to him about it, either – he knew how it was to lose access to his domains for an extended period, and he couldn’t fault Dionysus for finding some joy. Not when all he had left were his ties to the underworld and a bit of theatre.

“I’ve heard of Yancy,” Rachel, the new Oracle of Delphi, hummed, fiddling with her (Iconic™) blue hairbrush. “It was one of the places my dad thought of sending me.” The face she made at the end summed up exactly what she thought of that idea, and it pulled a startled laugh out of Percy and Grover. It sounded like they were both unused to laughing, as of late.

“Oh yeah, it was awful,” Percy nodded, before wincing and screwing his eyes shut quickly. “Most of the teachers were awful. One of them tried to kill me–”

“Wait, what?” Poseidon interjected, paling as he looked to his son for answers.

“–and the kids were awful,” Percy finished, ignoring his father. He tilted his head to the side and gave Grover the satyr a look. “Except Grover. Goat Boy was great.”

Am I a troubled kid?

“I mean, yeah,” Thalia snorted, “but I think we all are, kelp head.”

“Percy takes top spot, though,” Grover argued, biting into a newly materialised aluminium tin.

Poseidon was not at all impressed with that pronouncement, especially how none of the demigods even refuted it.

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it,

Poseidon frowned down at his child. “Miserable?” he repeated, yet more worry swirling in his gut. What did his son mean by that? Why was his child miserable? He tried to meet Percy’s gaze, but his child just sighed and turned his face downwards, resting his face on Poseidon’s chest and not meeting his eyes. Worry and warmth warred in his gut for top spot – worry for his child’s response, yet the warmth came from Percy actually wanting to be near him.

“Perseus?” he prodded gently, keeping his voice quiet. He didn’t want anyone else to intrude on their private conversation. It wasn’t for his siblings’ ears, after all.

Percy just sighed, not looking at him. “I’m sure it’ll come up at some point,” he murmured, voice muffled against the (delightful, if Poseidon may say so) Hawaiian shirt.

but things really started going bad last May … on a yellow school bus,

“Oh, how lovely. Now that is a recipe for disaster,” Dionysus hummed idly. Poseidon looked over just in time to see him turn another page of his magazine. On the cover he could see the boyish face of Aristaeus, a swarm of bees surrounding him.

Thalia squinted at Percy, leaning forward slightly. “You said twenty eight,” she said slowly, furrowing her eyebrows as she stared at him. Percy raised his head and regarded her with a blank look, raising an eyebrow. “Were you counting yourself amongst the others, kelp for brains?”

“I was at Yancy, a place for mental-case kids, because I was a mental-case kid that no other school would take.” Percy shrugged as best he could, like labelling himself as such wasn’t a huge deal. “It was probably true.”

Thalia looked like she wanted to argue, but Demeter resumed reading before the girl could launch into some sort of impassioned rant.

heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art … Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Dionysus actually looked up from his magazine for the first time, raising his eyebrows. “Chiron is there, as well?” He raised his eyes skyward, as dramatic as he domain. “Oh, joy of joys. Mother, give me strength to get through this.”

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy … always smelled like coffee.

Demeter paused just to wrinkle her nose. “Evil bean juice,” she said, mild disgust coating her words. Katie nodded her agreement.

Poseidon felt more than saw Percy lift his head, straightening up slightly. “I’d just like to say now that if anyone’s descriptions are unflattering or whatever, sorry about that.” He didn’t actually sound overly sorry, just tired. “I didn’t really expect my private thoughts to, you know, not stay private. And I’d really appreciate it if I wasn’t smited – smote? smeet? – for what should have been my private thoughts.” He gave the room a once over then, apparently satisfied, glared at the ceiling for good measure and flopped back down onto Poseidon’s shoulder, going back to staring at the fish pattern in contemplative quietness.

Before anyone could say anything, it was Hestia who answered, “Of course, dear nephew. These are your private musings we are intruding on, after all. It would be wrong and,” she paused to shoot a look to the rest of the council, particularly Zeus and Hera, “inappropriate to punish you for said thoughts.”

Zeus looked like he wanted to vehemently protest, so Hestia waved Demeter along.

You wouldn't think he'd be cool … he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

Athena raised an eyebrow, and Poseidon could just tell that he would not be a fan of whatever came out of her mouth. “You would put your education in jeopardy for the sake of a few minutes of sleep?”

Poseidon was ready to jump in to defend his child when Percy said, quite coolly, “I’m not very good at the traditional types of learning, Lady Athena.” Despite the honorific he tacked onto her name, Percy still managed to make it sound like he was saying her name as a foul curse. “I’m more of a… what is it called? A kinaesthetic learner! That was it!” Athena was still staring stonily at him, but Apollo had perked up and was looking at Percy in what could only be called interest. “I learn better when I’m doing sh*t and moving around. Want me to learn about our myths and world from a book? Not gonna happen. But put me in front of a monster? I can work sh*t out pretty quickly.”

“It’s true. He works things out pretty quickly, even if it’s his first time dealing with it,” Annabeth put in, not looking directly at her mother but more just in her general direction.

Athena turned an interesting puce colour. Apollo snorted, then let out a full laugh.

“They’ve got you there, Athena!” he said, managing to calm his laughs to the occasional chuckle that slipped out whenever he looked at her. “I’ve been telling you for years now that the one size fits all curriculum does nobody any favours. Everyone learns differently and at different paces.” He gave her a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “This is why you should stop trying to take over my domain, little sister.” His smile was as broad as it had ever been, sparkling like the daylight he drove, but it was as full of teeth as Aphrodite’s had been.

Athena managed to look even more incensed than before. She whipped her head around, seemingly searching for her daughter. When Poseidon saw her eyes land on the girl, though, he could only watch as Annabeth seemed to shrink away from her mother’s gaze, fingers absently picking at the material of her jeans. Poseidon could sense that there was a real story there.

I hoped the trip would be okay … I wouldn't get in trouble.

“You’ve really jinxed yourself now,” Leo let out in a groan, putting his head in his hands. At his side, Hephaestus briefly put his hand in his hair. “That’s like, asking for the old ladies to curse you!”

Percy huffed out a breath, warm against Poseidon’s neck, proof of life. “Don’t I know it, Valdez?”

Well, that was a mildly ominous statement that was not at all heart attack inducing. How many grey hairs would he have by the end of the first book, Poseidon idly wondered, as his hand squeezed as Percy’s shoulder again, reassuring himself that his boy was still there with him. Would he look as old as some of his statues by the end? Gods above and below, he hoped not.

Boy, was I wrong. See, bad things happen to me on field trips.

“Oh, worm?” Piper said, looking up from where her mother was delicately plaiting her hair, staying ever mindful of the evidently important feather. “I’ve definitely been there. You don’t want to know how many things I’ve accidentally stolen.”

Aphrodite briefly paused as she was weaving the strands of hair together, looking down at her daughter with a curious expression. “Accidentally stolen?” she repeated mildly, no judgement in her voice, just mild curiosity.

Piper fidgeted with the blanket thrown over both of them, a brightly coloured ostentatious thing that filled the room with the scent of spring-light perfume. “I… couldn’t control the charmspeak, back when I was little,” she admitted, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. She looked as though she was ashamed, which Poseidon couldn’t understand. “I’d accidentally charm people into giving me things. Little things at first, but it progressed to things like cars.”

Like at … the Saratoga battlefield,

Ares finally looked up from whatever he had been doing, an excited light entering his eyes.

I had this accident … but of course I got expelled anyway.

Artemis raised an eyebrow, putting her hunting knife down in her lap, though Poseidon could see her fingers continue to twitch. “How does one have an accident with a cannon?” She put her fingers up in exaggerated air quotes around the word ‘accident’, her face remaining as impassive as ever.

And before that … I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk

“Sort of,” Thalia repeated, a smirk tugging at her mouth. “Only sort of.”

and our class took an unplanned swim.

“Did the sharks try and eat anyone?” Rachel asked curiously, tilting her head to the side as she looked towards where Percy and Poseidon were sitting. “Y’know, Jaws style?”

Percy managed to sit himself up just enough to frown in her direction. “Do not speak of Jaws in my presence. That film has done nothing but give sharks negative press for decades. Undeservedly!” He huffed out an annoyed breath, sitting up a bit more, and Poseidon had to stamp down his amusem*nt that, of all things, this was what got his son to actually talk for an extended period of time with actual fire in his voice. “Sharks don’t deserve those bad vibes, Rachel. They’re just ocean puppies and little scaredy cats who love to cuddle and I will not stand for the absolute slander that is Jaws.” He shot Poseidon a look. “Right, Dad?”

Poseidon smiled widely, even as his heart felt warmed by the affectionate name ‘Dad’. “Certainly, my boy. Sharks want nothing more than to cuddle.” He paused, then added, “Except sand tiger and bull sharks. They’re pretty nasty.”

Percy pulled a face. “Oh yeah, they’re insane. The others, though? Total sweethearts. There is nothing cuter than a cuddly goblin shark.”

Poseidon nodded in agreement, and Percy settled back down, apparently done with his rant on Shark Rights. Rachel stared at him for another long moment, her eyes wide, like she hadn’t expected such an impassioned lecture.

And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.

This trip, I was determined to be good.

“Sure, Jan,” Leo smirked, pulling out scraps of metal from… somewhere… and beginning to tinker with them.

All the way into the city … back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Thalia’s face darkened as Hazel wrinkled her nose. “She did, did she?” She turned her gaze towards Grover. “Say, Goat Boy, where can I find this girl? Hypothetically speaking, of course?”

Grover looked mildly nervous, like he was about to start eating the surrounding furniture and Dionysus’ magazine. “I – um – I couldn’t tell you, Thalia,” he said, nervously bleating out a laugh.

Grover … cried when he got frustrated.

Grover let out a huff. “Thanks, Percy,” he said, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance, though it was obvious there was no vitriol there.

It was Leo who piped up again. “Well, I mean, who doesn’t cry when they get frustrated?” he asked, raising his hands in a vague approximation of the shrug emoji – that’s right, Poseidon knew of emojis, if only thanks to Kymopoleia spamming them in the family chat. She was particularly fond of the aubergine emoji at the moment, for some reason. When he’d brought it up with Amphitrite, she’d just rolled her eyes at him and told him not to worry about it – and pointing at Frank. “I know my man Zhang and I do!”

Frank stared at him, unblinking, for a long, solid moment. “Please,” he eventually said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but the throne room, “never talk to me again.”

He must've been held back several grades … him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Grover had been turning steadily red throughout the colourfully detailed description of himself until he could rival even the reddest of Apollo’s sacred cows. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the back of the sofa.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich … I was already on probation.

“What did you do to get probation?” Jason asked, leaning on the armrest of the sofa that he shared with Nico di Angelo, Hades’ boy, and Reyna, the daughter of Enyo’s Roman aspect. He was frowning as he regarded Percy, or possibly just squinting – Poseidon had a feeling, from the way the boy was squinting, that the expression was more to do with poor eyesight. Internally, he rolled his eyes. He wondered if any of his brethren remembered the least-remembered of his domains.

Nico shot a small smirk between Jason and Percy. “Knowing him? Probably shouted at a teacher or something.”

“I did no such thing,” Percy protested, lifting his head yet again to give the two an unimpressed look. There was a pause, then, almost sullenly, “Maybe later.”

The headmaster had threatened me with death

Annabeth, Athena’s blonde daughter, snapped to attention quicker than Poseidon had thought possible. “What,” she growled, not a question.

Poseidon nodded his agreement with the sentiment, a growl rising from his chest like it was rising from the very depths of his realm. Percy leant away from him briefly to eye him, then look at Annabeth.

“Number one,” he said, raising an eyebrow in lieu of counting on his fingers, “please wait before threatening the mortals. Number two, are you going to be like this the entire time?”

Annabeth stared steadily back at him. “Only the bits you’ve forgotten to tell me about,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards in a challenge. Percy stared at her for a long moment before sighing, returning his attention back to his father.

In answer, Poseidon just shrugged as best he could. “You’re my son,” he said simply, yet steadily, daring anything to deny him this moment. “I will always worry about you, whether you want me to or not. And I will always threaten vengeance on those who harm you,” he added as an afterthought. Threaten vengeance, bring vengeance – they were the same thing as far as Poseidon was concerned. He was not a god who made idle threats and didn’t deliver on them. He had sunk entire battalions and countries for lesser slights.

Percy sighed again, eyebrows knitting together as he brought his free hand to his temple. It was such a motion reminiscent of Hades that Poseidon nearly laughed. “Dad, no.”

From the side, Annabeth said loudly, “Poseidon, yes!”

Percy glared in her general direction. “Don’t you encourage him, Wise Girl!”

“Well, someone needs to keep an eye on you, Seaweed Brain!”

by in-school suspension … happened on this trip.

Leo let out a low whistle. “Damn, Aquaman, they’ve got you on a leash. Not even anything mildly entertaining?”

It was Grover who answered for Percy that time, since Percy was once more back to ignoring the current proceedings and staring at the fish patterned Hawaiian shirt. “I think he said, ‘If I hear a single laugh, Mr Jackson, there’ll be Hell to pay’. Or something along those lines.” The satyr shrugged nervously, nibbling on the edge of the aluminium can. “He was a connoisseur of misery and joylessness.”

Dionysus perked up once more, looking over the top of his magazine. “Really, now?” His purple eyes gleamed as some sort of plan seemed to form in his mind. “Tell me, Mr Underground, what does your old headmaster think of the theatrical?”

Grover gulped nervously at being spoken to by Dionysus, biting another chunk out of the can. “He thought it was a waste of time, my Lord,” he said, nervous bleats making their way between every other word. “Said people should focus on the logical and not… not – erm – not clownery.”

Dionysus hummed, deceptively calm. In his hand appeared a can of Diet co*ke, and as he popped the tab off he looked rather thoughtful. “Did he, now?” He hummed thoughtfully, eyes as bright as manic fire as he took a sip of his drink, looking off into the distance.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumbled.

“Oh, please do,” Thalia begged, toying with the sleeves of her parka. At her side, Artemis glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

“You, a hunter of mine, would willingly hurt another maiden?” she asked, lightly enough though there was hidden steel beneath the words.

Fearless, Thalia met her sister’s gaze. “If deserved, my lady, yes.” Artemis remained silent, clearly expecting her to elaborate. “There are sh*tty men out in the world, yes, but I’ve known just as many sh*tty women and decent men. If we’re about protecting the innocent, my lady, then I would say that should extend to innocent boys and men who are being tormented by terrible girls and women.”

Artemis stared at her. “You speak very boldly, Lieutenant Thalia.” Thalia merely tilted her chin up, not a hint of fear in her gaze. Another second, and Artemis finally smiled. A small thing, faint like the moonlight, but there nonetheless. “And you raise very interesting and pertinent points, things that my other girls would do well to remember.”

Grover … I like peanut butter."

Katie raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the book in her mother’s hands as if to confirm that yes, that was really what was written. “In your hair?” she asked, tone dubious. “Is this a new trend that I’ve not caught onto?”

Grover was tomato-red from the tips of his hair to where his neck disappeared beneath his shirt.

He dodged another piece … "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

“Not the guilty party, I assume?” Reyna asked, finally speaking for the first time, frowning like she already knew what the answer would be.

Percy let out a laugh. It didn’t sound very humour-filled, all things considered. “Reyna, have you been reading ahead? Because you’re absolutely right.”

Reyna rolled her eyes, a small smile slipping onto her face. “The guilty never get punished unless we do it ourselves.”

Looking back on it … right then and there.

Grover sent Percy what would’ve been a reproachful look, were it not for the slightly twitching lips.

In-school suspension … the mess I was about to get myself into.

Poseidon let out a several seconds long sigh, dredged up from the deepest caverns of his domains, and he looked down at his child. “Am I going to like this?” he asked, partly warily and partly tiredly. Was this how it was to be a normal parent? Just constantly worrying about one’s child in case they trip over a stray lego piece? Sweet sirenia, he did not think his poor ancient heart could handle too much more of this excitement.

Percy pursed his lips in thought. “I mean… maybe not?” It came out sounding like a question, and Poseidon just let out another sigh. He gently pulled his son closer, wrapping his arm around Percy’s shoulders and letting the steady thrum of his child’s heartbeat and faint divinity soothe him.

He may be getting several centuries knocked off his life and many more grey hairs added to his beard, but he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour … past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

Athena let out a sigh of contentment at the descriptions. Seemingly noticing, Apollo leaned forward, brilliant smirk in place.

“Say, Athy, it must really boil your ramen that art is also my domain, huh?” Athena snapped her eyes to Apollo, who gave her an unabashed, wide smile. It was like he was trying to intentionally piss her off, Poseidon privately thought. Why, though, he couldn’t be sure.

Off to the side, Hazel was repeating, “Boil your ramen,” to herself, an incredulous and extremely confused look on her face. Frank leaned over and whispered something in her ear, which led to her nodding then frowning in yet more confusion. “They invented instant food?”

Apollo returned his attention back to Percy, raising his eyebrows. Once more, interest gleamed in his eyes. “Did you have a favourite, mini-Poseidon?”

Percy shrugged, the motion slightly pulling on Poseidon’s shirt. “Dunno,” he muttered, not looking up at the god, still staring at the fish pattern. Poseidon curled the hand on his shoulder that bit tighter. “They were all pretty cool, I guess.” He paused, seemingly thinking. “There was a plate, I think it was, though. It had these really detailed painted orange fish and squid on it and I liked it a lot.”

Annabeth snorted, a small smile on her face. “Of course you did, Seaweed Brain.”

It blew my mind … two thousand, three thousand years.

“Some of it’s older than that, lad,” Hephaestus grunted, not looking up from whatever he was working on. It seemed to be a delicate bronze bracelet, and Poseidon could just about make out Aglaia’s name as it moved about.

He gathered us around … a big sphinx on the top,

Annabeth’s eye twitched at the mention of the sphinx, and Percy let out a snort. Poseidon raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“If I ever see that damned thing again,” Annabeth said, a threat in her voice that hung in the air, “I’m kicking her in the face.”

“What, before or after you throw her machine at her?” Grover asked, his mouth twitching as he held back laughter. If possible, Annabeth’s face got even sourer. Poseidon was absolutely curious what they were talking about, but he once more held his tongue.

and started telling us how it was a grave marker … it was kind of interesting,

Athena raised an imperious brow, and once more Poseidon felt like covering her in sea water, if only to shut her up for a moment. “A child of Poseidon, liking to learn?” She snorted. “How curious.”

Annabeth glared at her mother, frostily biting out, “Actually, he does like to learn, Mother. Maybe not in the traditional way, but it’s hard for all of us to learn that way – we all have ADHD and dyslexia, thanks you all of you by the way, which doesn’t mix with classroom and textbook learning.” She let out a sniff, looking remarkably like her mother in that moment. “Just because he learns better when he’s doing things, as he said before, doesn’t make him stupid.”

Percy had lifted his head to stare at her, wide eyed, like he’d never had someone so vociferously defend his intellect before. Athena looked like she’d been hit in the mouth with a lemon, and she turned her gaze away with a light huff.

but everybody around me was talking … mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker.

Nico frowned, tapping the arm of the sofa as he hummed in thought. As Poseidon watched from the corner of his eye, the boy seemed to realise something, if the way his eyes widened and drifted to Percy, almost questioningly.

“Is that…” he trailed off, making an odd gesture with his hands.

Not looking up, Percy replied, “A spoiler? Yes.”

At the side, Hermes let out a low whistle. “Damn, Uncle P. Your kid is as salty as your realm.”

She had come to Yancy … had a nervous breakdown.

Several eyes flicked towards Dionysus. A moment passed before he seemed to notice he was being stared at, and he looked up, glaring at them. “What.”

Hermes laughed nervously, running a hand through the back of his hair. “I mean, this does seem like your handiwork, D.”

Dionysus glared even harder, the purple fire of his eyes increasing in intensity. “I am not responsible for every mortal’s breakdown, just like you’re not responsible for every Royal Mail strike.”

Chris piped up, “I mean, he kind of is…”

Hermes swiftly, yet gently, elbowed his son in the side. “Shut up, no I’m not.”

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit … made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight,

Annabeth blinked, as though registering the words. “She made you what?” When no reply or confirmation was forthcoming, she continued, “I’m sure that that’s illegal, though! Never mind how morally dubious detentions themselves are, there’s absolutely a limit on how long they can keep you back.” She paused for breath. “How did no other teacher notice this? Did they not say anything about it?”

Percy snorted. “Yancy was a whole law unto itself. Teachers could do whatever they wanted there.” Grover nodded his agreement. “And it’s not like any teacher liked me enough to step in so…” He trailed off with a vague shrug.

I told Grover … and said, "You're absolutely right."

Thalia snorted, raising a hand to her forehead. “Good going, goat boy. That’s not suspicious at all.”

Mr. Brunner kept talking … the naked guy on the stele,

Hades grimaced at the ground. “How disrespectful. Mortals these days have no respect or love for the dead.”

There, Poseidon could agree with his older brother. His chthonic ties might be mostly buried by time, but he still felt the calling of the drowned. He could understand Hades’ frustration at the modern views of death, hating how commodified the sites of shipwrecks have become in recent years. As though they’re tourist destinations for the rich and bored, not mass graves for those Poseidon’s realm would never give back.

and I turned around … louder than I meant it to.

“Doesn’t it always?” Apollo snorted. Will looked like he wanted to sink into the ground again.

The whole group … said, "No, sir."

“Lies,” Clarisse said, smirking in his direction. “Prissy always has a comment.”

Mr. Brunner pointed … what this picture represents?"

Demeter paused, eyes flicking down the page, then sighed. Apparently catching her mood, Hades looked over at her, caught her expression, and his own fell. “It’s that one, isn’t it?”

In lieu of replying, Demeter continued reading, her expression a little more tense.

I looked at the carving … Kronos eating his kids, right?"

Hades sighed. “It’s always that one. Why is it always that one?”

Even Hestia looked mildly upset, staring down into the flames of her hearth with a troubled expression. It was then that Poseidon remembered that Hestia was the only one of them that remembered what their father had been like before his child-eating tendencies took over.

"Yes," Mr. Brunner … did this because ..."

“He was a paranoid old sh*t,” Hades declared, his tone brokering no room for argument. “And he didn’t deserve Mother,” he added, tone still firm. To that, all his siblings nodded.

“He was certainly a terrible father,” Poseidon said mildly. Even in the current era, thousands of years on, he would sometimes be jolted awake by lingering nightmares from his rather… tumultuous childhood.

"Well..." I racked my brain … So, um, Kronos ate them, right?

“Can’t believe old King Kiddy Eater vored his own kids,” Nico said. He seemed to realise what he’d just said a second later and immediately blanched, hands covering his mouth and eyes wide.

Over by Hermes, Connor and Travis were cracking up, wheezing even as all the gods were frozen in shock. “Did… did you just say he vored his kids?”

“Oh my gods, why would you even say that?” Miranda, the other daughter of Demeter, demanded, her own face pale and her eyes shining. “That is a sentence we never needed to hear, ever.”

Hazel once again looked confused. “I don’t understand what that means,” she admitted, and Percy immediately snapped his head up to glare at the room.

“Nobody tell her,” he all but snarled, and Poseidon watched him cast his glare around the room, particularly focused on the children of Hermes and, oddly enough, Ares. “If anyone tells her, I’m removing your right.”

Connor raised a hand, almost looking nervous. “My right to what?”

“Your right to breathe.”

The resulting choking around the room was almost too much. Apollo and Hermes were cackling in the corner like a pair of Shakespearean witches.

“Maybe we should never speak of this incident again,” Reyna said, calm with a bite of steel. She phrased it as a suggestion, but it was obvious she was really just giving an order. How typically Roman.

But his wife … gave Kronos a rock to eat instead.

“What’s the difference between Zeus and a rock?” Poseidon asked into the still-recovering throne room, barely managing to keep his smirk off his face. He could just about see Zeus making a face at him. “Nothing. They’re both dense as hell.”

Zeus glared at him, hand clenching in the arm of his overstuffed armchair, which ruined the overall effect he was going for. Hades snorted at the image, and even Poseidon couldn’t help his mouth twitching upwards.

And later, when Zeus … barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

“So, overall, a fun time was had, all around?” Leo asked, finally putting down the thing he had been tinkering with, only to immediately pick up another bit of scrap metal. The six elder gods stared at him incredulously, and he shrugged.

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.

“Try living through it, girl,” Hera sniffed haughtily, apparently unable to keep her silence any longer. She looked supremely unimpressed with the situation they were in, like she would rather be elsewhere.

Hestia hummed in agreement. “It really was… unpleasant.”

"—and so there was this big fight … and the gods won."

Zeus stared in Percy’s direction for a long moment. “And the gods won,” he repeated, somewhat incredulously. Poseidon was almost impressed that a demigod child of his could make his brother look like a fish. “Boy, do you even know just how long that war went on for? What we did just to win?”

Percy made a vague gesture, glancing in his direction. “Well, I mean, I know now, but I wasn’t really gonna know at twelve, right? Reading about it is a bit different than experiencing it.” Poseidon spelt a spike of worry as the demigods around them hummed and nodded in agreement, their faces going grim for a moment. “Like yeah, I know now that dad was strategizing for you all and it was ten years of fighting and negotiating. But I didn’t back then. So sorry,” he added with a shrug.

Zeus’ expression remained akin to a gaping fish, allowing Demeter to continue reading in peace. If only Poseidon had a camera to capture the moment.

Some snickers … Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

“A fair question, even if she was rather rude about it,” Apollo hummed, tapping the side of his jaw thoughtfully. “It’s not like even we ask you that question.” He paused. “Mainly because even we aren’t sure, to be honest, but don’t spread that around, kids.” He grinned a bit too widely, teeth flashing in the sunlight filtering down from above.

Poseidon exchanged a furtive glance with his siblings at that. Apollo wasn’t quite right there – the six of them knew the reason for their father’s supposed madness. A curse in the form of a prophecy, passed down from Ouranos after Kronos had sliced him asunder and confined him to the sky, a promise that his own children would do as he himself had done. A prophecy-curse that Kronos had later himself passed down to Zeus.

“I thought it was because he was into vore,” Thalia said blandly, her eyebrows raised and face completely straight. There was a choking sound from somewhere to the right, possibly from Hermes or even Ares. Once more, Zeus had been stunned into silence, and Poseidon had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“I thought we agreed to never mention that again,” Reyna growled out, glaring at the other girl with a surprising amount of restraint.

“To answer Apollo’s statement,” Aphrodite put in, before the Situation could progress into a true Olympus Style Fight, “I believe it would be helpful to know if you were to become a teacher, a historian, or even a librarian.” She noticed all the stares and raised a perfect eyebrow. Ares was looking at her with a dopily sweet expression, absolutely starstruck. “Did you forget what I said? I am more than just a pretty face, as are my children.”

At her side, Piper was staring at her as though she was seeing her in a brand new light. Poseidon wondered if Aphrodite had ever shown this side of herself in the time the children were from.

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner … had radar ears.

“He takes vitamins for his ears,” Annabeth said casually, her lips twitching upwards as she looked towards Grover. In response, the satyr just let out a groan and turned red again.

I thought about his question, and shrugged … Mr. Brunner looked disappointed.

“Wait, why is he disappointed?” Hazel asked, frowning in confusion. Poseidon had to agree. What had the teacher expected when he’d asked that question to a twelve-year-old? “He asked you something, and you didn’t know. That’s not a bad thing.”

"Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson … mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children,

“Understandable,” Leo nodded sagely, his eyes still firmly on the pile of scrap that was slowly turning into… something. What that something was, Poseidon really could not say. “Mustard is gross.”

There was a snort from one of Hermes’ children. “You just have no taste, Valdez.”

who, of course, being immortal gods … sliced him to pieces with his own scythe,

“Just your average family argument,” Hermes said with a nervous laugh, running his hand through his hair again. Artemis huffed in vague agreement, still fiddling with her hunting knife.

and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld.

Poseidon felt more than saw Percy suddenly flinch, violently, at the mention of Tartarus. His breathing turned hitched and ragged, like there was something caught in his chest, and suddenly he was pulling away from his father, doubling over as a truly horrendous cough forced its way from his lungs. Poseidon could only watch, horrified and terrified, as his son paled, clenching a shaking fist as he forced himself to sit back up. He wasn’t having a lot of luck, though, trembling like a ship trying to sail through a tempest hurricane.

Launching into action, Poseidon gently grabbed hold of Percy’s shoulder once more, gently manoeuvred him into slouching back against the sofa (and perhaps summoning another blanket to cover him), whilst making sure he remained in such a position that his airways would remain open. As the trembling continued, the ragged breathing persisted, Poseidon’s worry continued to climb to extreme heights. It only increased when, without warning, Percy suddenly grabbed hold of his free hand, squeezing like his life depended on it. Were it not for his divine endurance, Poseidon was sure that his bones would’ve been crushed beneath his child’s surprising strength.

Looking up to see if anyone else had noticed, Poseidon noticed Dionysus and Apollo looking around in varying amounts of interest and concern. Following their gazes, he noticed how Annabeth had gone ramrod still, face white in the sunlight as Thalia talked to her in a quiet voice, her expression worried. He noted Nico furiously clenching the material of his jacket, clenching his jaw, how Jason was the one talking to him from the sofa next to him. Poseidon could sense his son’s mental distress very easily – even without his domain over healing and certain mental issues, Percy was his child and he would be able to sense it regardless – but what worried him was the fact that the distress from the other two. It felt similar to his son’s, yet manifested differently.

And it had all been triggered by the word Tartarus.

A whisper of an idea was forming in his gut, so horrible that Poseidon couldn’t even bear contemplate it. Nor would he speak it aloud, for fear of the consequences of doing so.

On that happy note, it's time for lunch … the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Thalia snorted again, though it sounded weaker than normal. “Boys are always dumb.”

“That’s rude, pinecone face,” Percy muttered, voice weak and scratchy as his breathing slowly returned to its previous steady pace. “You don’t need to call us out like that.”

“No, she has a point,” Reyna said with a slight smirk. “All the boys I’ve ever known have been himbos.” She paused. “Except Frank.”

Frank looked less than impressed at having been called out. Jason gaped at her like yet another fish, no words leaving his mouth. Percy just shot her a rude gesture without looking up.

“Why’re you calling me a himbo?!” Jason managed to ask, a wheeze accompanying his question. “What’ve I ever done to deserve that kind of hate?”

Snorting, Reyna said, “Your sister told me you tried to eat a stapler once.” Jason flushed bright red, right down to the neckline of his shirt. “And I remember the incident with Octavian and the togas.”

Somehow, Jason blushed even redder. “That was years ago, Reyna!”

“And yet, it happened.”

Grover and I were about to follow … could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

“He’s older than that,” Dionysus said blandly, snorting into his magazine.

"You must learn the answer to my question … "Oh."

“How succinct,” Athena drawled with a roll of her eyes. Once more, Annabeth glared at her with narrowed steely eyes.

"What you learn from me … I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

“Well, you can’t deny that you do tend to get the best from Percy,” Will said, managing a slight smile. It seemed he’d got over his brief urge to scream into the void from before. “Even if it’s a bit too much,” he added with a frown in Percy’s direction, “that makes him wind up in my infirmary.”

I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard … I had never made above a C— in my life.

“Well, that’s hardly your fault. The grade, I mean,” Apollo explained, his voice drifting into his lecturing mode. Poseidon internally sighed, settling in for Apollo to talk at them all once more. “That’s just this country’s ridiculous grade mark boundaries. Any other similar western country, you’d probably be getting a B or thereabouts.”

No—he didn't expect me to be as good … one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

“If the funeral art on the stele was of, you know, him, then I imagine the girl was a young demigod,” Artemis said quietly, the first thing she’d said with some emotion the whole chapter. The mood in the room around the assembled demigods immediately dropped, like there was a veil hanging over them. “You’ve all heard of the half-bloods like Heracles, Theseus, Achilles, and the first Perseus, but in truth there were few who reached an age mature enough to become heroes.” She let out a sad sigh. “There were many more who simply did not make it, especially young girls from small villages. If they could not find my Hunt in time, then either monsters got them or the mortals did.”

Miranda raised a hand to her mouth, exhaling slowly. “The mortals?”

“Mortals were not very kind to women back in the old days,” Artemis said heavily, not looking up from her hunting knife again. She ran her fingers along the flat of the blade. “If a girl, or the girl’s mortal parent, said she was a god’s child, she was usually not believed. I tried to help young maidens whenever I could, but even I cannot be everywhere at once.”

Despite her status as a major goddess, her guilt was palpable, weighing in the air like a summer storm. Poseidon watched as Apollo reached over to grab her hand, his own face characteristically serious, and gently squeezed.

“Arty,” he said softly, the tone of voice only reserved for his twin, “you did what you could for those girls.”

Artemis shot him a glare, though it was obviously half-hearted at best. She allowed Apollo to keep holding her hand. “It wasn’t enough.”

“Is anything ever enough?” Another glare, fiercer this time. “All I’m saying is, no, you might not have saved all those girls. No one expected you to, though.” He squeezed her hand again. Everyone else around them stayed silent, not daring interrupt the moment. “But think of all the girls you did save, though. How many are still in your Hunt to this day? How many got to start their own families because of you?”

Artemis didn’t reply, but the way she squeezed her twin’s hand was answer enough.

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch … clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city.

All eyes in the room turned to Zeus. In return, he glared at them all, eyes stormy. How typical, Poseidon privately thought to himself with an internal snort.

I figured maybe it was global warming … if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Instantly, several of the eyes flicked back to look at Poseidon. Poseidon just shrugged as best he could without dislodging his finally relaxed child. “Don’t look at me. I have no idea what’s happening.”

Athena, meanwhile, had a contemplative look on her face, tapping the armrest of her throne. “Since Christmas, you say?” Her eyes were sharp, an indicator that she was thinking hard about something. Her gaze narrowed in on Percy, looking much like her favoured animal. “Would you say it had started around the time of the solstice?”

Percy jumped slightly, manoeuvring himself to be more sat up. “I guess?” He phrased it like a question, but the way Poseidon saw him exchange an uncomfortable glance with his friends gave him pause. More spoilers then, if he himself had to guess.

Nobody else seemed to notice … pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers.

Rachel and Artemis instantly glared at the book, twin stares promising death to any and all who hurt animals of the wild.

“Why do people have to be so mean to pigeons?” Rachel demanded, looking like she as about to stand up and start pointing and cursing at the frozen city below. “They’re doing nothing wrong! Nobody does that to doves! And pigeons and doves are the same thing!”

Artemis nodded in agreement, much more sedately but not lacking anger. “Indeed. The fact that mortals will love or hurt an animal based on its appearance is unforgivable.”

Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket … loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

Thalia frowned, her face uncharacteristically serious. Her eyes reminded Poseidon of the sky before a lightning storm, much like her temperamental father. “You’re not a loser freak,” she said, almost gently and just as sternly. “You do know that, don’t you?”

There was a pause. Percy lifted his head, silent for another second as he simply breathed. “Sure,” he shrugged. Poseidon was not convinced by his tone and, by the looks of things, neither was Thalia.

"Detention?" Grover asked … "Can I have your apple?"

A moment, then several snorts echoed around the room from the demigods, each of them staring at Grover in disbelief. Once more, Grover turned bright red.

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

Instantly, the mirth died away as worried looks were sent Percy’s way. Several furrowed brows and concerned eyes.

“You? Not having an appetite?” Chris gaped, disbelief written on his features. “I’ve seen you inhale entire platters of food before.”

“There’s been the odd time where he hasn’t done that,” Miranda said thoughtfully, almost humming. “None have been good times, though.”

I watched the stream of cabs … but she'd be disappointed, too.

It was Annabeth frowning that time. “Percy, your mother would never be disappointed in you. She loves you.”

Percy shifted slightly, toying with the edge of the second blanket Poseidon had summoned for him. “I know that, wise girl,” he said quietly, not looking up, “I do. It’s just…” He sighed as he trailed off. “It’s not been easy for her, especially the last year, raising me. I just want to make things easy for her.”

Poseidon shifted where he sat so he was looking at Percy more directly. Briefly, he took note of the dark rings under his child’s eyes again, the shadows that seemed to lurk behind his eyes like cobwebs. “Perseus,” he said quietly, trying to keep the other gods’ noses out of the conversation as much as possible, “if I know your mother, and I’m fairly certain I do, then I know she would never be disappointed in you.” Something in Percy’s eyes flickered. “She would be worried about you, yes, but never disappointed.”

Percy met his gaze for a moment, sea green swirling, then looked away again. “How can you know that?”

Gently bringing him in closer, Poseidon tugged him back down until they were back in their original positions, where he could feel the warm breaths on his neck. “Because that is how I feel.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with your friend,” came a voice from near the back. Poseidon flicked his eyes to the source, and to his surprise it was Hera who had spoken. His sister had been quiet ever since her verbal spat with Aphrodite, save for her brief comment when they were all talking about their illustrious father, and Poseidon had almost forgotten she was there. Now, though, she was looking at his son with an almost thoughtful expression, making her look gentler.

“You love your mother,” she elaborated, and there was a ghost of a sad smile playing on her lips at that, “and your mother loves you, based on how you’ve spoken about her. She would never be disappointed in you.”

The demigods were all stunned into silence at Hera’s rather rare genial display, and Poseidon couldn’t say he blamed them. He hadn’t heard his sister speak in such soft and wistful tones for centuries. Annabeth looked like she didn’t know whether she wanted to strangle her or not.

She'd send me right back to Yancy … Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—

“Oh good, her again,” Hazel said with an almost-dramatic eyeroll. Frank let out an ugly snort.

I guess she'd … dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

Thalia’s eye twitched and she turned towards the nervous Grover, raising an eyebrow. “Say, goat boy, how about you and I have a talk about this later?”

Grover nervously bit off another chunk of the aluminium. “It’s really not necessary…” He looked towards Artemis, as though she would step in and keep Thalia from doing whatever it was she was going to do. To Poseidon’s surprise, and no doubt Grover’s great disappointment, however, she merely raised an eyebrow of her own. She glanced back at Thalia.

“You may have had a point before,” she said rather mildly, slipping her hunting knife back into its sheath and pulling her bow out from somewhere. The ancient carvings and inscriptions in the wood glimmered like moonlight. “Perhaps we can take down haughty maidens to save innocent boys.”

Apollo looked delighted at her change of heart. Poseidon wondered if the strangeness he was feeling was the seismic shifting of domains, a once a millennium event. For as long as the Twin Archers had been alive, they had kept their domains of Protector of Young Boys and Protector of Young Girls separate, as Helios and Selene had once kept the sun and moon from each other. Looking at them now though, feeling what could only be a shift of some sort, Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder if that was about to change, if the twins were about to converge and share a domain once again.

Aphrodite meanwhile had an interested expression on her face as she regarded Percy. “It’s rather interesting, how this girl is acting,” she said blithely, tapping her jaw. Piper eyed her warily. “It’s almost like the old schoolyard tale of the boy pulling the hair of the girl he likes.” A sharp smirk made its way across her face, her eyes twinkling. “I would guess that this girl perhaps had a little crush on Percy here.” A noise akin to a dying animal left Percy’s mouth, like he was too horrified even for words. “Think about it, dear. She’s messing with your friend because she knows it’ll get your attention. And all attention is good attention.”

“Wow,” Percy said blandly, closing his eyes like he could once more pretend Olympus wasn’t beyond them, “thanks. I hate it.”

"Oops." She grinned at me … spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

Aphrodite smiled in triumph. “See, what did I tell you? A little pre-teen crush that she just didn’t know how to deal with.”

The only thing Percy responded with was a tortured noise, like it was the worst news he’d heard all year. Poseidon noted how Piper’s expression became sheepish, and he was sure she was about to add to his girl-related misery.

“Sorry, Percy, but I think she has a point,” she said, sounding very apologetic about it. “It tracks with what I’ve seen. When I was younger, I got a letter from someone in class telling me to get out of their school.” She blushed slightly. “Apparently, they didn’t know how to deal with liking me.”

I tried to stay cool ... Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Hermes snorted. “What a snitch.” He turned to his three children, elfish eyebrow raised. “What do snitches get, boys?”

“Stitches!” Connor and Travis gleefully answered simultaneously, grinning like maniacs.

Mrs. Dodds materialized … "—like it grabbed her—"

Poseidon hummed, glancing down at his child in interest. “So even when you had no training, the water still responded to your emotions?” Percy didn’t give much of an answer, not that he expected one. “How interesting.” With a lot of his demigod children, it had required vigorous training to be able to access that part of their heritage and be able to control the waters of his domain, or shake the earth as he did. That Percy could do so without the training said something.

And judging by the thoughtful expression on Zeus’ face, and the way Hades looked their way, he was sure that he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

I didn't know what they were talking about … poor little Nancy

There were several ugly snorts at that from around the room, particularly the fire-wielding child of Hephaestus and the trouble-making sons of Hermes.

was okay, promising to get her a new shirt … wasn't the right thing to say.

“Do you ever say the right thing?” Jason asked, his mouth twitching like he was fighting back a smile.

Percy made a vague gesture with his hands. “Do I look like the kind of man who makes good decisions, Grace?”

"Come with me," … Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

Hazel smiled in Grover’s direction. “That was very nice of you, Grover.”

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled … barked at me. "Now."

“Does she still call you ‘honey’?” Nico asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“Of course she does.”

Poseidon frowned to himself, mentally filing away the information for later perusal. Did that mean that whoever, whatever, this teacher was, they still had access to his son? He was very certain he did not like the idea of that.

Nancy Bobofit … How'd she get there so fast?

“So, you’re going to face what is absolutely a monster with no training?” Will asked, his face paling despite the bright luminescence coming from his father. “Wonderful. Great.”

I have moments like that a lot … I wasn't so sure.

Artemis nodded, something like approval briefly flashing across her face, gone before it could take root. “Good. Trust your instincts, boy. They’ll rarely lead you astray.”

Percy actually looked over at her, even smiling slightly. “Thank you, Lady Artemis. I always do.”

I went after Mrs. Dodds.

Poseidon let out a sigh. From how the children had been talking, he could only assume that this Mrs Dodds was a monster of some sort, just as he had been privately fearing. Raising his free hand to his temple, he mentally prepared himself to see himself go prematurely grey before his four-thousandth birthday. Amphitrite would have a field day when she saw all the new grey hairs, he just knew it.

He briefly paused in his thoughts, considering his wife. There was an idea. His Queen was often kind to his demigod children – not at all like his older sister, Poseidon was relieved to think – so perhaps he could recruit her into his campaign to keep his son safe. Triton was another matter entirely, but Poseidon was sure he would come around.

Halfway up the steps … make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

“Oh, if only it can be that easy,” Piper said, shaking her head with a grimace.

Leo instantly shook his head, accidentally bursting into flames. Not even looking, Hephaestus waved a hand over his head and the flames instantly dissipated once again. “No, I’m glad we don’t have to that, beauty queen. Some of us are poor.”

Percy, who had remained mostly sitting up after the brief exchange with Artemis, nodded in agreement. “Gotta agree with fire boy, there. I’d be broke by now. I’ll just take the near deaths, thanks.”

But apparently … the gallery was empty.

Several of the children were grimacing at that, not that Poseidon overly blamed them. He felt like tearing his own hair out from the anxiety and anticipation.

Mrs. Dodds … looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...

In the corner of his eye, Poseidon noticed Hades suddenly go pale, well, paler than usual. Face white, he leant down to whisper something in Nico’s ear, quiet enough that even Poseidon, with his enhanced sense of hearing, couldn’t hear it. Whatever he’d said, Nico looked up at his father and nodded in response. Somehow, Hades paled even further, like he was very unhappy about whatever his son had confirmed.

Judging by the looks he was now sending Poseidon when he thought he wasn’t looking, Poseidon just knew in the marrow of his false bones that he wasn’t going to like whatever was said.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.

“If I had a nickel for every time someone said that to me,” Percy said musingly, bordering on wistful, “I’d have at least a few, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it’s happened so often.”

I did the safe thing.

Like a scene straight out of one of Dionysus’ old frenzies, all the heads of the demigods, as well as the satyr and the mortal, in the room turned as one to regard Percy. Their expressions ranged from raised eyebrows to downright dubious frowns. Poseidon was really not a fan of what those looks could mean for his child’s health and wellbeing, and for Poseidon’s own continued sanity.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do the safe thing like, ever,” Leo commented, eyebrows furrowed in mild seriousness. “And considering I’ve only known you for a month…” He trailed off and looked around at the other gathered children, a question in his eyes. A question that the others immediately jumped to answer, some more than others with great relish.

“You refused to kneel to – well – you know who after the war games,” Frank said incredulously. It had sounded like he’d try to say the name of someone, a god most likely, but the words had become stuck in his throat. Perhaps it was a mechanism from Nemesis to prevent the children from the future from accidentally spoiling anything. As if to confirm Poseidon’s internal musings, Frank frowned to himself and brought a hand to his throat, running feather-light touches over his voice box. “Huh. Guess we’re not allowed to spoil anything to them.” He jerked his head in the direction of his divine father and the rest of the Olympian council.

Annabeth nodded, a touch of weariness in her gaze. “That makes sense. They must want this to be as… organic as possible, if this can even be called organic.” She gestured in the general direction the pile of books and hummed to herself in thought. “We were allowed to mention the Romans, and we’ve been allowed to, so far, reference things vaguely. We must not be allowed to talk about things directly, though.” Her eyes snapped back to Percy, sharpening. “And as for you, you tried to start a fight with presumably the same person Frank is talking about within five minutes of meeting them.”

Percy let out a spluttering noise, sounding deeply offended. Once again, Poseidon was curious what the children were referencing, but assumed it would come up in due time if they were not allowed to explicitly speak of it. “They were being an ass, Annabeth!”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, expression indulgent as she replied, “They were, but still.”

I said, "Yes, ma'am."

Katie snorted, hiding her mouth behind a hand and looking remarkably like her mother in that moment. “Have you ever called anyone else by an honorific?”

Percy snorted, his breath warm against Poseidon’s neck as he remained where he was, his father’s arm protectively slung across his shoulders. Once more, Poseidon felt that warmth bloom in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had got to hold a child of his so close, especially one so young (so fragile). He didn’t answer her in words, but the snort was more than answer enough.

She tugged on the cuffs … not like she's going to hurt me.

Hazel, of all the children there, let out a scornful laugh. “Teachers have been some of the cruellest people I’ve known,” she said, absently rubbing the palm of her hand like it ached. “They were quick to dole out punishments if they thought you deserved it.”

The other children had quietened, staring at her with varying degrees of shock, anger, and pity, as though they’d forgotten that she had grown up in a time that not only allowed corporeal punishment on children in schools, but actively encouraged it. Of all the reactions abound, though, none were quite so visceral as that of Hades.

“Hazel,” Hades began, his voice trembling in barely contained rage, fingertips tightly gripping the arm of his sofa, “please tell me that that does not mean what I think it means.”

Hazel merely gave her father a look, a sad smile that said everything words could not. Poseidon watched as Hades exhaled slowly, his grip on the armrest becoming knuckle-white, his expression slowly morphing into one of serene rage. Were they still in the mortal world, rather than locked away in this temporary space, Poseidon just knew that several lethal sinkholes would have simultaneously opened up around the world, that one of said sinkholes would have been created in the permafrost of the tundra and dislodged the trapped methane gas.

Poseidon understood his older brother’s rage perfectly. In the privacy of his own mind, he even encouraged it.

He and Hades did not see eye to eye on everything – they never had and likely never would – but if there was one thing that they shared, along with Demeter, it was a vicious, all-consuming love for their children. He and Demeter were alike in that they loved possessively – both the ocean and nature took and took and took, not liking to give way and give back, choosing even to end civilisations to protect their children – and ferociously, but Hades would fight with the lioness-like strength of their mother to protect that which was his.

“These… teachers… of yours,” Hades spat the words like they pained him to say, like they were being dredged up from the very depths of his realm, “am I correct in assuming they no longer walk amongst the living?” Hazel frowned at him, confusion flashing across her face, but she slowly nodded. Hades regarded her for another long moment, eventually dragging his gaze away to the corner of the chambers. “I see. I shall have to deal with them myself when we are let loose from here.”

Despite the relatively non-threatening words, Hades’ tone was dark, promising vengeance and blood.

I said, "I'll—I'll try … Thunder shook the building.

More eyes flickered towards Zeus, who seemed to have sat himself up somewhat and be paying attention to what was being said. Poseidon wasn’t sure when he had started paying attention – perhaps when Percy’s powers had jumped into play?

"We are not fools, … I didn't know what she was talking about.

“All the monsters seem to think I automatically know what they’re talking about,” Percy snorted, somehow sounding both amused by the situation and extremely exhausted. “Like they seem to think I’m prophetic or whatever.”

Apollo’s eyes zeroed in on him with laser-guided precision, interest once more gleaming in the sunny depths. Once more, Poseidon felt a sense of strange foreboding. “Really, now?” Poseidon did not trust that casual tone for a second. It reminded him too much of the garden Apollo had long cultivated. “Have you had any other strange prophetic experiences?”

Percy raised his head enough to give Apollo a strange look. “I mean, yeah? I get demigod dreams like everyone else here, dude. They’re not that special.”

Apollo sat back, outwardly mollified. The way his eyes continued to glint, though, told Poseidon that he had not yet let the issue go. If he knew his nephew, he was sure that Apollo was thinking hard on it.

All I could think of was … the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room.

Several of the demigods, as well as a couple of Poseidon’s fellow council members, turned to look at Percy again, raising their eyebrows or giving him amused looks.

“What made it illegal?” Leo asked, lips twitching as he continued to tinker with the scrap metal provided by his father.

Percy just shrugged, the small motion causing Poseidon’s shirt to shift slightly. “Not sure. I remember the headmaster caught someone else doing the same thing earlier in the year and he lost it with them.” He frowned briefly, looking to be in thought.

“Is this the headmaster that Mr Underground said disliked the arts?” Dionysus piped up, flipping a page of a new magazine. He briefly looked up over the top of it, eyeing Percy for a moment. When Percy nodded, Dionysus tutted and rolled his eyes. “I thought as much. It’s always that type that have an issue with foreign concepts such as ‘fun’.” He made exaggerated air quotations around fun and glanced in Grover’s direction. “Hm, yes, I think I shall definitely be having a word with this mortal when we’re done here.”

“What I don’t understand is why you’d be in trouble for doing that,” Hermes said questioningly, content to ignore his brother’s mildly murderous plans. Poseidon felt more than saw Percy glance in Hermes’ direction. “It proves you’ve got a good sense for business, does it not? Why should that be discouraged or even punished?”

Chris, one of Hermes’ sons, scoffed, though it didn’t seem aimed specifically at his father. Hermes glanced at him, questions on his face, so Chris elaborated, “Schools don’t exactly want you to be different or succeed in something that they didn’t teach you.” There was a lot of bitterness in his voice, bitterness that seemed to be echoed on the faces of the other children.

Or maybe they'd … make me read the book.

“Let’s hope the monsters don’t catch onto this thought, seaweed brain,” Annabeth said, laughing slightly. It surprised Poseidon somewhat that a child of Athena would laugh about violating academic integrity – he could certainly see Athena off to the side doing the expression where she flared her nostrils like she was trying to breathe fire.

“Oh gods, can you imagine if Kelli found out about it?” Percy exaggeratedly did a full-body shudder, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the laugh in his voice. “I’d never know peace.”

"Well?" she demanded … and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

There was a strange rushing, buzzing noise in Poseidon’s ears as he slowly turned his head to where his older brother sat, suddenly ramrod straight, like the furious pounding of an Arctic Sea storm. Somewhere beyond the room they currently occupied, there was an explosion of water, no doubt one of the many decorative fountains of the plaza. When Poseidon fixed his eyes upon his brother, Hades instantly paled, so much so that he resembled one of his ghouls far more than he did a god.

“Hades,” he said softly, his arm tightening unconsciously around his son, “did you send a Fury after my child?”

He watched Hades grab hold of the armrest again, though this time for entirely different reasons. “I – well, I haven’t technically done it yet?”

Poseidon raised his eyebrows. Somewhere far above them, one of the waterpipes exploded, causing said water to rain down on them in a spray of mist. If most of it landed on Hades, that was neither here nor there. “You haven’t, no,” he agreed, still keeping his voice soft, like the soft curl of an ocean riptide. Oh, he wanted to rage, to let the ground beneath them shake, to let loose the old ancient wrath he was known for, but he could wait. He knew his fellow gods thought him calmer in his older age, thought him less prone to rage and fits of fury.

What nonsense.

“But you will,” he continued, tightening his grip on Percy’s shoulder. If his hold hurt, Percy didn’t say anything. “And for my son, this has already happened.” He smiled, letting just too many teeth be seen. An unsettling reminder of what he once was, and what he could easily be again. Would easily be again for the sake of his child. “If a single hair on his head is harmed, Brother, there will be hell to pay.”

Then things got even stranger … holding a pen in his hand.

“Why did it take him so long to appear?” Annabeth demanded, turning her head to stare at the satyr. Right, of course, the satyr had been on the trip with his son. So focused on his rage that Poseidon had almost forgotten that detail. “What was he playing at?”

Grover just shook his head. “I really don’t know, Annabeth. I tried to get his attention before this but…” He trailed off helplessly with a shrug.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted … Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

Involuntarily, Poseidon tightened his hold on his child once more, the puffs of warm breath on his neck and the feel of his heartbeat a comfort through the fog of rising panic and rage. Percy managed to look up at him and meet his eye, but did nothing to shrug him off.

With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear.

In the near-iron grip, Percy suddenly stiffened, as though he was experiencing a burst of fear. Seconds later, Poseidon felt what could only be surges of fear and adrenaline course through him, from his fingertips to his brain. Alarm bells immediately started ringing in his head as he looked down at his child, registering the clenched jaw and fists, feeling the need to look around for threats despite the relative safety of the room.

What was it that note had said, before Demeter had started reading this thing? It comes with a price. Was this the so-called price that the fate and balance goddesses had mentioned, Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder as his free hand drifted into his child’s hair. It must be. The Moirai had never given anything to anyone for free – not wisdom, nor advice, nor a glimpse of a potential future. Tyche sometimes gave gods, demigods, or mortals gifts for nothing, but very often she was reigned in by her wife, the harbinger of balance and equilibrium.

Was this so-called price to relive any emotions described in the book’s pages? It certainly seemed that way. And since Nemesis was involved, she who brought down the haughty, Poseidon would hazard a guess that anything felt by the children – seemingly in battle only, since Percy’s emotions had been described before this point – would also be felt by their divine parents, or their divine patrons. Apprehension welled up inside him like one of his daughter’s monstrous whirlpools. Just why had they seen fit to include a price such as this? Yes, they had said it was about learning humility – particularly in the case of his youngest brother – but what did they want the gods to know?

Poseidon was almost afraid to know the answer.

I snatched the ballpoint pen … spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

Poseidon noted Hades shooting him another nervous look out of the corner of his eye. Good. Let the others remember why he was feared for so long.

My knees were jelly … I almost dropped the sword.

Poseidon felt his own hands start to tremble, a fact that evidently wasn’t lost on his son as Percy looked up at him questioningly. Poseidon just shook his head, curling the hand he had on his boy’s shoulder into a fist. They would discuss it later, if no others in the room experienced it.

She snarled … I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.

Several faces turned towards Percy again, this time wearing looks that ranged from disbelief to awe. Percy, upon seeing them, started fidgeting uncomfortably. “What?” he asked, slightly defensively, beginnings of a glare in his voice.

“Nothing, nothing!” Jason instantly replied, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. He exchanged a look with the others. “It’s just…” He trailed off, seeming to struggle with the words. Fortunately, the others got what he was trying to say, and Hazel came to his rescue.

“When I first picked up a sword, I dropped it,” she said, offering him an apologetic look. “It didn’t feel right to be holding it. Even now, it’s sometimes a struggle.”

“Wait.” Poseidon watched as Percy disentangled himself from the hug he was in, blinking at his friends in confusion. “Wait, really?” The other children nod, and Percy blinked again, gaze flicking to Annabeth and, oddly enough, Clarisse. The two girls cast each other glances, then look back towards Percy.

“It was more natural for us, I think,” Annabeth said, tone thoughtful. Clarisse nodded in agreement. “Daughters of war and all that, but nothing like you described.”

“Same here for me and my sister,” Reyna chimed in with a nod of agreement.

The metal blade hit her shoulder … leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur

Percy flinched again, another cough rising from his chest. Off to the side, Annabeth looked vaguely ill. The sense of foreboding in Poseidon’s chest only continued to rise, as it had been doing since the mention of Tartarus. Admittedly, it had been long enough that his own memories of the Pit had somewhat faded, but he would certainly never forget the scent and stench of that place, the way the sulphur had clung to every breath he’d tried to take.

and a dying screech and a chill of evil … Nobody was there but me.

“Wait, why did he just leave you alone?” Will asked with a frown. Poseidon was inclined to agree with his question. “You’d just fought a Fury. You shouldn’t have been left alone. What if you’d been injured? What if you were going into shock?”

Percy just shrugged, exchanging a look with the satyr. “I really don’t know, man.”

Will sat back against the back of his sofa, arms crossed and glaring at nothing. “Oh, I’m going to have words with him when we’re back.” He continued muttering mutinously under his breath, low enough that Poseidon couldn’t pick anything up. Judging by Apollo’s amused expression, though, it was mildly entertaining.

My hands were still trembling … magic mushrooms or something.

“See!” Will waved a hand, as though vindicated. “He’s going into shock! And where is Chiron?”

Had I imagined the whole thing … It had started to rain.

Once more, Poseidon exchanged a glance with Zeus. His younger brother seemed to have calmed down, or at the very least resigned himself to this inescapable fate.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map … she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

“Who?” Nico asked, squinting at the book in confusion.

I said, "Who?" … asked Nancy what she was talking about.

“The Mist is coming into play rather quickly. More quickly than it normally would,” Apollo said musingly, eyes slightly brighter than normal as his thoughts visibly whirred. “So someone is manipulating it?"

She just rolled her eyes … so I thought he was messing with me.

Several people turned their heads towards Grover, who was at the least looking extremely embarrassed. That was something, Poseidon thought to himself with no small amount of irritation.

“Grover,” Connor said slowly, “if you’re going to gaslight someone, at least do it properly.”

"Not funny, man," … Thunder boomed overhead.

Another glance exchanged with Zeus and Hades, Zeus already puffing his chest out to defend his future actions.

I saw Mr. Brunner … hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

“Nooooo,” Will said loudly, a mixture of annoyance and near-desperation, “don’t take away the one thing that kept him alive.” Once again, Poseidon was very inclined to agree with that line of thought.

"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?" … there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

There was silence for a moment as everyone internally digested what had just been said. Demeter slowly put the book down, folding down the corner of the page to keep its place. Poseidon could hardly blame everyone for the quietness – it was a lot to take in. The entire day was a lot to take in, having started so normally and suddenly confronted with the future versions of their children. To be told that they had been sent from their own time to avert what was to come, it set Poseidon’s hair on end. To think, they had only made it through a single chapter of the first book, as well.

He had a feeling it was going to be a very long day.

“So, uh, yeah. That’s how you gaslight someone, Grover,” Travis said with a nervous laugh, finally breaking the silence that had fallen. All of the children exchange nervous looks again, eyes going wide, as though they hadn’t considered before that moment that the use of the Mist like that was, in fact, gaslighting. Poseidon still wasn’t entirely sure what gaslighting meant, exactly, but he knew it had something to do with lying to people. He’d ask Rhodos later. He was sure she would know.

“Oh my gods, he was gaslighting you,” Annabeth breathed out in a tone of realisation, hands going to her mouth. “What the f*ck–”

“I am definitely having words with him when we get back,” Will said sullenly, crossing his arms once again. “There are ways to introduce kids to our world, and that ain’t it, chief.” He shook his head, muttering, “First the shock and now this?”

Percy pushed himself up to be sat up properly so that only his arm was still in contact with Poseidon’s shirt. Strangely enough, Poseidon found that he already missed the warmth and proof of his child’s continued living. “It’s fine, really. He had his reasons for it.” He was met by several unconvinced looks, so he continued, “The Mist part, anyway. Not too sure why he wanted–” A brief cut off, then Percy apparently changed his words. “Why he wanted the pen back, but you know how he is.”

Whilst the children continued to exchange looks between themselves, Demeter held the book up in her free hand. “I think we should continue with this,” she said, sounding like she’d really rather not. Poseidon didn’t blame her. He wasn’t sure how much he could take of his child’s seemingly dangerous exploits. “Given that the Moirai themselves wish it of us.” Her eyes landed on Hades, and her gaze darkened. “In fact, why don’t you read the next section, Brother?”

Hades offered her his own glare. “No thank you, Demeter.”

Demeter snorted, pushing herself to her feet with a careless elegance. “How typical of you, just taking and taking and never giving.” She stepped over to where Hades was sitting, towering over him with the familiar ferocity that Poseidon had come to expect of her. She shoved the book into Hades chest, forcing him backwards into the sofa, and all but snarled, “Read. The. Book.”

Hades grabbed the book in a harsh snatch, his glare intensifying. “You’re no longer invited to dinner next week.”

“Oh, are you going to tell my daughter that her mother isn’t invited to dinner?” Demeter’s snort was as unladylike as it was possible to get, sitting down next to her daughters with a flourish. “Good luck barring me from your house, Hades.”

Apparently sensing the argument brewing between the two yet again, Zeus finally saw fit to intervene. “If you could please hurry things along,” he growled, sparks of lightning flying from his form in his irritation, “I’m sure we would all be very happy.”

With one last final glare at each other, Hades and Demeter broke their furious eye contact, each stubbornly looking away from the other. As Demeter busied herself with talking in low tones to her daughters, Hades gingerly opened up the book that had been forced upon him at the dog-eared page. When he quickly looked up at Poseidon then back down at the pages, Poseidon silently sent a prayer of strength to their mother.

He had a horrible feeling he’d be needing it.