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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 3

Percy's POV

Confession time: I ditch Grover as soon as we get to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover is kinda freaking me out, looking at me like I am a dead man, muttering, "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be the sixth grade?"

Whenever he gets upset, Grover's bladder acts up, so I'm not surprised when, as soon as we get off the bus, he makes me promise to wait for him, then makes a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I get my suitcase, slip outside, and catch the first taxi uptown.

"East One-hundred-and-forth and First," I tell the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting mine and (Y/n)'s dad.

We didn't have any memories of him, just this warm sort of glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. Our mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad; she has no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told us he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom had told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me and my twin on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along...well, when I came home is a good example.

I walk into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN. Chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's Mom and (Y/n)?" I wonder aloud.

"Your mom's working," he says. "You got any cash?"

That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

"I don't have any cash," I toll him.

"Here," comes a voice, holding out a ten to the man.

Instantly, a smile sneaks its way onto my face.

"Hey, Perc," my twin sister says with a smile.

(Y/n)'s POV

I grab my brother's suitcase and carry it into his room; I set it down on the bed.

"You wanna come sit in my room?" I ask and Percy nods, a smile still on his face.

I lead the way to my room and when I open the door, Percy sinks into my desk chair.

"Percy?" comes our mom's voice.

She opens my bedroom door.

Our mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Percy or Gabe.

"Oh, Percy," she hugs her son tightly. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas.

Percy's POV

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.

We sit together on the edge of (Y/n)'s bed. While I attack the blueberry sour strings, (Y/n) stealing a few pieces of candy from the bag, Mom runs her hand through my hair and demands to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She doesn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right? The whole time, (Y/n)'s eyes were sparkling with amusement.

I tell Mom she is smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her and (Y/n).

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?"

I grit my teeth.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

For her sake, I try to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I tell her I'm not too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convince myself. I start choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly doesn't seem so bad.

Until that trip to the museum...

"What?" my mom asks. Her and my sister's eyes tug at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

"No, Mom."

I feel back for lying. I want to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I think it'd sound stupid.

Mom purses her lips. Both she and (Y/n) could tell I was holding back, but neither push me.

(Y/n)'s POV

"I have a surprise for both of you," Mom says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin."

"When?" I ask excitedly.

Mom smiles. "As soon as I get changed."

I can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in my doorway and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

"I've got it," I offer, rising from the bed and walking out into the kitchen to make the dip for Mom.

An hour later, we are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch me and Percy lug Mom's bags to the car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her cooking - and most importantly, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, you two," he warns us as I load the last bag. "Not one little scratch."

Like we'd be the ones driving. We're twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame us.

We get into the Camero, me in the passenger's seat, and Percy in the back.

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of the Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half-sunken into the dunes. There is always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

Percy and I love the place.

We'd been going there since Percy and I were babies. Our mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place she'd met mine and Percy's dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turning the color of the sea.

We arrive at the cabin, open all the cabin windows, and go through our usual cleaning routine. We walk on the beach, feed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and much on jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

I guess I should explain the blue food.

See, Gabe had once told Mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a small thing at the time. But ever since, Mom had gone out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - alone with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells us stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write when she gets enough money to quit the candy shop.

Finally, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what was always on our minds when we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure that she was going to tell us the same things she always said, but neither Percy and I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom says. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, two. You have his black hair, you know, Percy, and you both have his green eyes."

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy, (Y/n). He would be so proud."

Percy's POV

I wondered how she could say that. What's so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of the school for the sixth time in six years.

"How old were we?" I ask. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But...he knew us as a baby."

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting twins, but he never saw you two. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.

(Y/n) and I had always assumed that he had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, we'd always felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I realize I feel angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom. He'd left us, and now we are stuck with Smelly Gable.

"Are you sending me away again?" I ask her. "To another boarding school."

She pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey." Mom's voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. (Y/n) bows her head, looking at the ground and Mom's eyes well with tears.

Mom takes my hand and squeezes it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

Her words remind me of what Mr. Brunner had said - that it was best for me to leave Yancy.

"Because I'm not normal," I say.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe.

"Safe from what?"

She meets my eyes, and a flood of memories comes back to me - all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me and (Y/n), some of which we'd tried to forget.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked us on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed (Y/n) when she'd told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.

I know I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I can't make myself tell her. I have a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I don't want that.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom says. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just...I just can't stand to do it."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask, a little confused.

"Not a school," she says softly. "A summer camp."

My head starts spinning. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me and Percy be born - talk about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp.

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression that if either of us ask her any more questions, she would start to cry.

I have a weird, vivid dream. It is storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse, and a golden eagle are trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swoops down and slashes the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse rears up and kicks at the eagle's wings. As they fight, the ground rumbles and a monstrous voice chuckles somewhere and beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I run towards them, knowing I have to stop them from killing each other, but I am running in slow motion. I know I am too late. I see the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I scream, No!

I wake with a start.

Outside, it really is storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There is no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

With the next thunderclap, my mom and Percy wake. Mom sits up, eyes wide, and says, "Hurricane."

I know that's crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seems to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I hear a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that makes my hair stand on end.

Percy's POV

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice - someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.

My mother springs out of bed in her nightgown and throws open the lock.

Grover stands framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he isn't . . . he isn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasps. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looks at me in terror - not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy," she says, having to shout to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I am frozen, looking at Grover. I can't understand what I'm seeing, and I see (Y/n) looking at my friend.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yells. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I am too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I am too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover doesn't have pants on - and where his legs should be . . . where his legs should be . . .

Mom looks at me sternly and talks in a tone she'd never used before, and (Y/n) flinches: "Percy. Tell me now!"

I stammer something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stares at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabs her purse, tosses me and (Y/n) our rain jackets, and says, "Get the car. All three of you. Go!"

Grover runs for the Camero - but he isn't running, exactly. He is trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs makes sense to me. I understand how he can run so fast and still limp when he walks.

Because where his feet should be, there are no feet. There are cloven hooves.

Word Count: 3041 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #female reader #fem reader #reader insert

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theartofimaginaryfriends · 4 years

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Chapter 3 - Welcome to Ilvermorny

Fic series: The Final Straw (HP/PJO Crossover)

Premise: The Welcome Feast causes a rocky start to the year.

Masterlist

Taglist: @ilvermornymascot, @lukecastellandeservedbetter

Word count: 1,652

A/N: I feel it's important to mention that I wrote this at 2AM (lmao shocker) and accidentally called the dorms lodges because I pictured them as such. After consulting the group chat I always consult, it's staying that way because why not. And yes, I absolutely used combination knocks because of Wizards of Waverly Place (S4 E21 if you don't know what I'm talking about). Please let me know if you want to be on the taglist, and please comment as it helps keep me motivated! Hope you enjoy the chapter, it ended up being fun to write!

The room buzzed with excitement as the students watched the first years get sorted into their houses. Nova stood next to the Head Boy, Lucas Hoffman, and tried to seem interested in the sorting. The nerves she felt were hard to hide, with the threat of a Prophecy being revealed tonight. Rachel Dare had collapsed on the way up to the school with the rest of the transfers, and Nova couldn't help but notice a flicker of a green glow in her eyes.

She could only hope that nothing would happen while the mortal girl waited with her friends to be sorted into a house like everyone else. The last thing that was needed was to provoke a group of demigods with quick access to their weapons and already felt suspicious of the place. “You okay?"

"What?" Nova looked up at her friend. "Oh yeah, just tired and hungry."

"Are you sure that's it?"

"Lucas, I'm fine," Nova insisted. The Head Boy opened his mouth to speak but ultimately let it go, knowing how stubborn his friend could be. They turned back to watch the sorting, and Nova cheered with the rest of her house whenever someone got sorted into Pukwudgie. Still, she didn't seem to have her heart in the sorting like she did every year.

When the ceremony ended, the student body moved into The Great Hall. Nova relaxed a bit entering the familiar surroundings and smiled. The staff table was at the very end of the hall and faced the door that led into the room. A bear lectern was placed in front of the Headmasters seat, which sat in the middle of the long table.

Unlike Hogwarts, Ilvermorny had over one hundred circular tables for the students, and students from every house were free to sit together. The American Wizarding school prided itself on their inclusivity, part of that being the inter-house relationships.

The Hall was decorated with Indigenous artwork, representing the founders of the school. Paintings on the walls told the story of Ilvermorny, and how it was founded. The ceiling was reflective of the night sky. Thousands of candles were floating in mid-air, lighting up the room. Ilvermorny had brought some of Hogwarts' famous features to The Great Hall as a way to help the European students feel more at home.

Ghosts floated around and interacted with the students, startling the demigods that were already distracted by the interior. When the witch took a seat next to Cree, she couldn't help but notice a particularly familiar face within the ghosts. Peeves the Poltergeist had decided to tag along, likely eager to terrorize a new group of students. Harry Potter, who was at the same table, followed her eye line and looked even more displeased than she felt. "Blimey, I thought he was joking."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"To our new students, welcome," Headmaster Tahamente greeted everyone. "And to our upper years welcome back. We have much to discuss this evening, but for now please enjoy the feast."

Food appeared at the table, and students immediately began piling their plates. Ron Weasley was one of the first to dig in, stuffing his face with shepherd's pie. Hermione scoffed at her friend's lack of proper etiquette. "Honestly Ronald, do you have any manners?"

"What? I'm hungry," he said between mouthfuls. Nova laughed as Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione chastising Ron.

"Um... can I help you?" Harry asked, uncomfortable. Nova followed his eye line to Cree, who was staring at The Chosen One in disbelief.

"You're Harry Potter," his jaw dropped. "As in the Harry Potter."

"Cree, we talked about this."

"Can you blame me?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," she sighed. "I requested my friend here do the exact opposite of that. Cree is clearly a big fan of yours."

"It's nice to meet you, Cree." he smiled. Harry hated attention because of his fame, but he was kind nonetheless. That was something Nova liked about her friend and made a mental note to talk to Cree about dialling down the fanboy attitude after tonight.

All the boy could do was stare open-mouthed, still starstruck. "Potter has a whole fan club here, too?"

"Malfoy, are you really failing to consider the fact that our friend here is world famous?" Nova sassed. She had only known Draco during her transfer year at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament and was still skeptical of the Slytherin. Despite choosing to go against Voldemort during the war, he was going to have to put in a lot of effort to gain the trust of everyone he had bullied these past few years.

"I don't need-"

"Hey," Harry put a hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "You said you wanted our forgiveness. That means not lashing out."

Draco relaxed at Harry's touch and went back to his food while he tried to hide the blush forming on his face. The meal consisted of Cree overwhelming Harry with questions, and Nova constantly apologizing for her friends' behaviour. It went on until after dessert when the Headmaster approached the lectern once again. A hush fell over the crowd as he began to speak.

"I hope that was a satisfying meal," he smiled at everyone. "First, a few housekeeping rules. Students must not leave their lodges after ten pm on weekdays, and midnight on weekends. Students under year five are not to leave campus on weekends. The forest is off-limits, as the Party Ponies do not take kindly to unwelcome visitors-"

"Party Ponies?" Ron whispered.

"I'll explain later," Nova responded.

"Finally, if you haven't already," Professor Tahamente continued. "Please come see me, or your Head of House to state your pronouns and preferred name."

Nova glanced around, watching all the confused expressions from the Hogwarts students. She remembered when she first learned what pronouns meant, and hoped the European wizards complied without issue. "As you all know, we are joined this year by students from Hogwarts, and Demigods from Camp Half-Blood-"

Whispers filled the halls, many of which speculated why Demigods were at the school.

"Settle down," Tahamente gently commanded. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has found itself in need of repairs that may take the whole year. Headmistress McGonagall has asked me and President Olivier to host her students while their school is under construction. As for the Demigods, we feel that the divide between us needs come to an end. Chiron and Mr. D have gladly set up a program in hopes of creating a bond certain to help in the future."

"Mr. D can’t even be bothered to remember our names," Nova overheard Percy's comment. She made eye contact with him as she stifled a laugh, and the boy smirked at her and winked.

"Finally, we have new additions to our staff," the Headmaster turned slightly, gesturing to the staff table. Tahamente began with Chiron and Mr. D, then introduced the professors that had joined the staff for the demigod program, as well as the new Gamekeeper. "Now that introduction is out of the way, we will end the night-"

The headmaster's speech was interrupted when a girl with fiery red hair stood up abruptly. Rachel's eyes glowed bright green, and a mist the same colour poured out of her mouth as she made her way to the front of the Hall. The wizards looked terrified, and most of the demigods were annoyed.

"Demigod and wizard come together,

Find the bridge and break the tether.

The heroes combined,

Shall face the unkind.

In order to preserve their days,

They must find the one in which betrays."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Percy shouted angrily.

The son of Poseidon stormed out of The Great Hall, and Annabeth stood up to follow. Nova rushed to the demigoddess and stopped her before she continued on. "Take Percy to the lodges. A Pukwudgie will be able to guide you there if you ask politely."

"Thank you," Annabeth rushed to catch up with her best friend, and Nova went to help Rachel for the second time that day.

"Are you alright, dear?" Nurse Hawkins helped Rachel to her feet.

"Yes, thank you," she responded tiredly.

"She's in my house, I'll get her to the dorms immediately," Nova put an arm around the mortal to support her. After some protest, the Nurse allowed Nova to take Rachel to the dorms. All she needed was a small amount of Wiggenweld potion. She led Rachel out of the Great Hall, trying to ignore the stares and whispers as she passed. The girls didn't speak until they got to the entrance of the Pukwudgie building, passing Annabeth and Percy as they sat at the campfire the school had set up for the Demigods.

"Our lodge has a small infirmary, we'll stop there first." Nova led them to the infirmary and helped Rachel onto a bed. The Head Girl went into the cabinets to find Wiggenweld, then poured a small amount into a Dixie Cup, and handed it to the Priestess. "It's just a basic healing potion, it won't harm you."

Rachel took the cup and hesitated before downing the liquid. She winced at the taste but looked a lot better instantly. Since Python took over the Oracle of Delphi, readjusting to the oracle's magic was taxing on Rachel. Nova couldn't imagine what it was like and felt for the mortal girl.

When they left the infirmary, Nova brought Rachel over to the group of new students that had just arrived with the sixth year prefects and began the trek up eight flights of stairs to get to her new room.

The room was easy to find, it is the first door in the corridor on her left. The Head Girl was about to open the door with her new combination knock when she noticed the name plaque under her own. She was sharing her room with Payton Wills, a Gryffindor that she didn’t get along with at Hogwarts.

#harry potter #percy jackson #pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #harry potter fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #harry potter/percy jackson crossover fic #harry potter/percy jackson crossover

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jflashandclash · 6 years

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The Fall of the Sun (Traitors of Olympus IV)

One: Will

A Stroll in the Dark

Will had only shadow traveled with Nico a few times. Although he didn’t like to dwell on it, he used to be afraid of the dark like the rest of his siblings, but, he always knew Nico would take care of him in the shadows. Despite Nico’s insecurities, Will knew Nico was strong and courageous, even if he did need the occasional reminder to floss his teeth.

Now, Will needed to do more for Nico than a quick dental exam. Hades’ words echoed over the scream of air around him, You can bring Nico back from the shadows and stop Melinoe.

Unfortunately, Hades wasn’t big into How To guides, something Will had been trying to change.

When Will saw Melinoe, the Greek Goddess of Ghosts, suspend Nico in a shadow state—Nico’s mouth quivering with a scream, his limbs writhing as her ghouls phased through Nico’s torso like it was no more than a sewer gate to crawl out of the Underworld, Nico’s skin dimming in and out of the darkness—Will took the only course available.

His sister, Kally, had nodded to Will and said, “I’ll sustain you two! Go!” and Will ran towards the son of Hades. He went to shadow travel.

In the past, Will had compared shadow traveling to riding in the sun chariot at full speed without a windshield. Percy had once described it as “going so fast that it feels like your face is peeling off.” This was different.

Normally, Mrs. O’Leary sprinted through the shadow realm or Nico would take Will’s hand and pull Will full speed—often forgetting that Will was faster and liked to tease him about it.

Now, everything slowed down. No map. No guide. No objective exterior to Nico.

One moment, he was running at Nico. The next, everything muddled to black. He could no longer see the undead army charging Camp Half-Blood with Reyna leading a dismally small dispatch of Romans to defend its fallen borders. He could no longer see Melinoe laughing beside Phobetor, the ghastly God of Nightmares with a terrible taste in bowties.

Will tried to stumble to a stop, but it felt like he’d wadded into an icy maelstrom. There was black tar everywhere, swirling thickly around him, like the shadows wanted to maul him. From his previous travels, what he’d mistaken as a blast of cold air was really their fingers desperately clawing at him. What he’d mistaken for the whistle of speed was their screams. Thousands of screams.

This is what he feared entering the dark would be like when he was a child: smothering, eternal, inescapable, cold.

Was this really what Nico went through every time?

A mounting sense of panic twisted Will’s insides. He’d never find Nico here—in this vast expanse of nothingness and torrid shadows, with no sense of direction other than—

Warmth gently tingled his back.

Will exhaled.

When he turned around, he could see a dim shaft of light piercing through the blackness. He remembered when Hades had cracked the ceiling of the Underworld, to give Persephone a ray of sunshine for her garden, killing hundreds of people for a few moments of her smile. He remembered Hades asking Will if he’d do the same for Nico. Will had hesitated.

Will had no idea why there was a ray of familiar sunshine cascading through this darkness. Dawn shouldn’t hit Camp Half-Blood for another ten minutes. While Will really didn’t want that sunshine to come from the death of hundreds—as he had no control over it—he would be sure to write a haiku for them if that was the sacrifice.

With the sunshine acting as some directional orientation, Will could take a calming breath.

He was undead now. He focused on everything Nico had taught him over the lazy months of summer—what Will could remember from when he’d been plotting over how to get the son of Hades to open up to him. From what he could recall, Will should be able to become one of these shadows to move around and turn back into a typical ghost after existing in shadow form. Shadow travel should be safe for him.

Will stepped forward, the world feeling less like a maelstrom and more like a lake of pudding.

Over summer, he had struggled to remind Nico that he was always there to listen if Nico ever wanted to talk about Tartarus, or being captured by Giants.

But, looking at all of this that Nico handled so casually, Nico deserved so much more than a smilie band-aid or a happy sticker that Will swiped for him from the infirmary.

As the pounding of Will’s heart quieted, and he stepped directly away from the light, he discerned the faintest echo of a sob over the shrieks of the shadows.

Nico was crying in front of him.

The shadows seemed to weave into the flickering form of his Death Boy. Unlike outside, where Nico was suspended upright by Melinoe’s powers, here, Nico knelt by the dim figure of a gravestone. No—he didn’t kneel by it. He was half-way melded into it. His hazy silhouette—the crazed, black hair, those hollow eyes—intermeshed with the shadows around them.

Will could barely make out his features.

The part most in focus was the gravestone’s etching, recording the names and dates of three people: Maria di Angelo, Bianca di Angelo, and Will Solace.

Will opened his mouth to shout for Nico, but choked.

Persphone’s instructions. He’d almost forgotten her warning—You can’t talk to him. You can’t acknowledge him. If you fail to ignore him, you’ve damned you both.

At the sound of Will’s choke, Nico’s fading outline glanced up. “Will?” Nico asked. Even his voice sounded detached, like an old recording.

Will turned away. He clenched his fists, trembling.

“Will?!” Nico repeated, his voice more desperate.

The pain in Nico’s voice made Will bite his lip. Will wanted to reassure Nico, to hug him, to tell him that he wouldn’t leave, that he’d somehow find a way to undo his death and the current threat to the camp. But he had to get Nico out of the shadows first. How was Will supposed to lead Nico out of this if he couldn’t talk to him?

You need to have faith that your love will be enough to bring him back and defeat his despair.

Will took a step towards the dim ray of light.

“Stop—please!” Nico sobbed, “Y—you’re the only one left th—that has time to care about me—”

The screams of shadows withered to nothing compared to Nico’s quivering voice. Will wasn’t sure if it was because the son of Hades had command over shadows, or because the terror in Nico’s voice sounded worse than anything the other shadows could produce.

Like the sound was amplified for twisted assurance, Will could hear Nico stumble once after him. He tried not to envision it: Nico half crawling from that tombstone. “You’re the only one that hasn’t l-left me. N-no one else has time for me. I know they’re all good intentioned. B-but Reyna’s a praetor. Gleeson has a kid. Percy’s getting ready for college. You’re—you’re—you’re d—”

Will was hoping Nico would run after him.

He froze in horror when something dropped behind him. No more footsteps. Nico must have collapsed.

Will closed his eyes, grinding his teeth to keep himself quiet. His body trembled to turn around and run to Nico, to assure him everything would be alright. But, he couldn’t do that. If he turned around, everything wouldn’t be alright.

They could do this. They had to be able to do this. He wasn’t about to let Nico disappear into shadows. He wasn’t going to let Melinoe use Nico’s body as a conduit for an undead army to destroy Camp Half-Blood. The original hero who tried to return someone from eternal darkness, Orpheus, had failed his quest. Orpheus had doubted his and Eurydice’s love and violated the conditions of the quest by looking back. But Will wasn’t Orpheus. And Nico wasn’t a wood nymph or a daughter of Apollo…. Fortunate since that would be very weird.[1]

Will visualized the first time Nico had kissed him: running late for archery class, Will scolding Nico for not getting enough sleep the night before, Nico leaning up and surprising Will before rushing toward the archery range. For the rest of the day, Will couldn’t stop singing. Nico kept complaining it was embarrassing, especially since campers kept high-fiving them and giving them congratulatory gifts. But Will loved Nico’s blushes and the way he pretend to be angry and Will had to express—

“Every time you kiss me it’s like sunshine and whiskey,” Will sang aloud to himself.

The shadows seemed to silence their wails.

Will remembered how Nico’s blush extended all the way to his ears when Nico parceled out the words the first time.

“Alright, you hit me like fire, shot me like a bullet.

Burned me up and down, no way to cool it—”

Nico’s sobs stopped.

Will couldn’t hear Nico get up, nor could he hear Nico’s footsteps. But Will continued towards the dim ray of light piercing through the blackness. He felt like Persephone was testing him with the silence. Yet, somehow, Will felt calm. He knew they could make it through the darkness—their love would be enough.

Come on Death Boy, he thought as he continued to sing. Let’s get you some sunshine.

Will stepped forward, leading Nico toward the illusion of safety: a camp under siege by two gods with no plan of what to do when they got there.

Author’s note: I’m baaaaaccckkkk! XD

Sorry for the delay, and those *ehem* cliffhangers.

For those of you who might be new: Welcome! This is the fourth and final book of the Traitors of Olympus series. If you enjoy being flummoxed, not knowing what’s going on, and to further empower Eris (our beautiful goddess of chaos and strife) then please continue to read without catching up on the others books in the series and be sure to throw your computer/tablet/phone/printed out copy (*author fans self at the idea of printed-off copies*) across the room as hard as you can each and every time you read a name you’re unfamiliar with or find a plot point that confuses you. Eris will assuredly flutter down on her black wings and give you little Discordian welcome stickers and appreciate your contribution to her cause. Otherwise, if you liked the writing in this chapter and like to keep order in the world, feel free to check out the rest of the series before you read this one!

To those of you returning: Thank you for coming back to put up with this series’ nonsense! It has been a rough past six months, and your comments and support have really helped pull me through. You guys are awesome and I want to give each of you a personalized hug! (complete with adoring attack weasels!)

We should be back to weekly updates for the rest of summer with the occasional short! I hope you guys enjoyed and are ready for next week’s chapter: Kalypso—I Run to the Dumbest Spot Possible.

[1] Pax: *pouts* Must be nice not to have creepy siblings.

Eris: *pats his back* Welcome to godhood, my son!

#Traitors of Olympus #Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #HOO #Fanfiction #Will Solace #Nico Di Angelo #Kally #Weird start--but eh--we'll catch up with Kally in the next one :D #*tries to remember where Jack put the Pax brothers*

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