Chapter Text
In my state of dazed numbness, time ceased to have meaning. I was a statue, a pillar, frozen in place, scarcely noticing the passage of the sun over my head. On the fog-shrouded mountaintop, daylight barely penetrated the gloom. I spent most of the time with my eyes closed, replaying the images my knife had shown me.
Darkness fell again, though it seemed impossible that I had been here for a day. The sky continued to weigh me down, crushing my knees into the rock, but I had reached a point beyond pain. All I knew was that I had to keep pushing upwards.
It'll crush me eventually, I thought wearily.
'You can't give up.' The voice in my head sounded so much like Percy. 'How will I find you if you give up?'
So I held on.
By the time Luke returned, I was curled over my knees, my spine so curved I was afraid that even if I escaped, I'd never walk straight again. It took all my energy to breathe. I didn't even have the strength to look up, let alone plead for help.
It was Atlas I heard first, his booming voice reverberating all over the mountainside.
Then came the sound of quick footsteps. My eyes struggled open—just lifting my eyelids felt like heaving the sky. Luke's scuffed trainers came into focus, then the ratty fabric of his jeans. His hand cupped my chin, lifting my head to look up at him. My vision was blurry. There seemed to be two copies of his face shimmering before me, both gazing at me with identical concern.
'She's fading,' he said. His voice was tinny, as though coming across a bad Iris-connection. It was a lot less real than the voices I'd been imagining in my head.
There was a rumbling laugh, followed by the clink of chains. A pair of tiny bare feet came into view, their ankles wrapped tight with celestial bronze chains. They were cut all over, but no rust-brown blood matted these feet. Instead, they were covered in what looked like golden dewdrops.
Ichor, the blood of the gods.
The sight of it shocked me into alertness. My head creaked up.
Standing before me was the twelve-year-old Artemis, held captive in bronze chains. Gone was her ski parka, replaced by a silver dress that was hardly more than rags hanging off her body. Her arms and face were as scratched up as her feet. Ichor dripped from them to the ground. But her eyes were as coldly defiant as when she'd given the order to finish Thorn at Westover Hall.
'You heard the boy—decide!' Atlas barked.
Lightning flashed in Artemis's eyes, not unlike Thalia's expression when she got mad. 'How dare you torture a maiden like this!'
'She will die soon.' There was a hitch in Luke's voice. 'You can save her.'
This was the help he had promised. This was his grand plan—to use me to ensnare a goddess. I choked on the repulsiveness of it. Did he think I would consent? I'd let the sky smash me flat first!
But the only sound I was capable of was a hoarse groan. My head drooped again, losing the strength I'd found to lift it.
Artemis's feet turned away slightly. 'Free my hands,' she commanded.
There was the swish of a sword through the air, followed by a clang as it struck Artemis's chains. The next thing I knew, the lithe body of the goddess was crouched next to me.
I managed a feeble gasp—'No!'
It seemed laughable that a twelve-year-old girl could lift a weight that had overcome me and Luke, but of course, Artemis wasn't really twelve. Like Atlas, her material form was only a façade of what she could be.
It was like when you stabbed a monster and it crumbled into ash—only I was the disintegrating monster. My body, relieved of its overwhelming burden, was strangely insubstantial. My legs gave out, as did my back. I fell to the ground, still trembling from the exertion.
The sky shook as Artemis adjusted her hold on it, stumbling as she strained to keep it up. She managed it with greater ease than Luke or I had, but I could still see the golden sweat beading on her forehead, the lines of effort drawn across her youthful face.
'You are as predictable as you were easy to beat, Artemis,' Atlas said with smug satisfaction.
Artemis's voice was strained, but disdainful. 'You surprised me. It will not happen again.'
Luke bent over me while Atlas continued to taunt the goddess. His hand stroked my head gently. 'Annabeth,' he whispered, pulling me away from Artemis. 'You did it.'
I wanted to tell him to get lost, that he was insane if I thought I'd thank him for using me like a pawn against Artemis, but blackness was encroaching on my mind. My eyes closed involuntarily.
'You may kill the girl now,' Atlas said coldly.
There was a rattle of chains. The ceiling creaked, like Artemis was shifting it on her shoulders again. 'No!'
The insistence in her voice jerked me back to the hard, rocky mountaintop. Was she fighting for my life? Why would she do that?
She took the sky from you, I reminded myself. But this didn't make sense, either. Why had Artemis allowed herself to be trapped under the sky, for what could be eternity? She could have just let me die. Instead, she'd sacrificed herself, a queen taking the fall for a pawn.
It was as if I were someone special, like Thalia, or Percy—a demigod of importance. Someone who mattered to the gods.
I didn't know what to make of it.
Luke leaned over me. 'She may yet be useful, sir.' There was a pause, like he was thinking hard. 'Further bait?'
Atlas sneered. 'You truly believe that?'
'Yes, General.' I heard Luke sheathe his sword. His hand rested on my shoulder. I could feel it trembling slightly. 'They will come for her, I'm sure.'
My pulse quickened. Were my friends looking for me after all? Did they realise I was still alive, and in enemy hands?
'I'll find you, Annabeth,' Percy whispered in my head.
'Then the dracaenae can guard her here,' Atlas said at last. 'Assuming she does not die from her injuries—' he gave a soft snort, as though he fully expected me to expire within a day, 'you may keep her alive until winter solstice. After that, if our sacrifice goes as planned, her life will be meaningless.' He clapped his hands together. It sounded like a gunshot. 'The lives of all mortals will be meaningless.'
Luke's arms found my knees and back. I was scooped up, carried close to his chest like I was seven years old again. The movement sent a wave of dizziness rushing through my head. Darkness enveloped my thoughts.
The last thing I heard was Artemis's cold voice calling after us, 'Your plan will fail!'
+++
'Annabeth. Annabeth!'
I didn't want to wake up. There was a battering ram against the inside of my forehead, like Athena struggling to burst from Zeus's skull. I wanted to sink back into blissful unconsciousness.
Something hard pressed against my lips. I breathed in, inhaling the unexpected smell of warm chocolate. My tongue touched the corner of the little square that was forced into my mouth.
'You have to eat it, Annabeth,' Luke whispered. 'Quickly, before—'
My teeth closed around the hard square. It tasted sweet and creamy, like the hot chocolate Percy's mom had made for us at his apartment, or the rich, moist muffins Sally had baked. One bite spread soft, tender comfort through my veins.
Ambrosia.
Its healing power washed through me, reviving my broken body. The pounding in my head lessened. My limbs felt less like limp noodles.
I opened my eyes. I was lying on hard ground, with Luke bending over me. We might have been in a jail cell, except there were no bars. It was a little square hollowed into the earth, away from a main passageway. It was hard to tell, lying down, but I suspected there wouldn't be enough room for me to stand up straight—if I even had the strength to, that is. The ceiling was barely a foot above Luke's head as he kneeled beside me.
Standing just outside my cell, so large that he filled the entire passage, was the giant Atlas. His arms were crossed and his expression was impatient.
'I am not entirely convinced this is necessary,' he grumbled. 'The Hunters will come, and you've already confirmed that the girl is with them. They will bring her straight to us.'
'But not Percy Jackson,' Luke said. He got up and moved out into the passageway. 'My spy indicated that their fifth member is Grover Underwood.'
'And this is important, why?'
'Because I know Percy Jackson. I know his fatal weakness. It was how we enticed him to the Underworld last year. It was what led us to the Fleece last summer. He will not leave a friend.' There was a bitter note in Luke's voice as he said this. 'And he—' Luke stopped, cleared his throat, and said, more harshly, 'She will be our bait. He will take it, and we will finally be rid of him.'
My eyes widened. All hope that Percy would indeed come for me crashed around my ears. I'd already been a trap for Artemis. I wouldn't—I couldn't be one for Percy as well.
But Luke had sized up Percy well enough. From our very first quest, even before I'd realised we were friends, Percy had thrown aside his own safety to save me and Grover.
Atlas huffed. 'Do not think I fail to see your concern for this half-blood, Luke. What makes you think anyone still believes her alive?' His lip curled as he considered me. 'By all rights, she should be dead. But these mortal bodies are hardier than we realised. Perhaps … yes, it would be good to have a back-up.'
'Sir?'
'She was able to take the sky. It is not meant for mortals to carry, and yet she achieved it.' Atlas bent down to look at me more closely. 'You are awake, daughter of Athena. What say you? Your friends have allowed you to be captured and left you for dead. Shall you join our cause now?'
I spat in his face.
Atlas reeled back. I expected him to hit me, or punish me in some other way, but he merely wiped his face and chuckled. 'Pity. It would only work if the vessel were willing. But you …' He turned to Luke with a calculating gleam in his eyes. 'You managed, too. Yes, you might just do, Luke Castellan. With some … adjustments, you have potential.'
Luke took a step back, bumping his head against the overhang from my cell. 'What do you mean, sir? Potential for what?'
Atlas straightened and adjusted the tie on his silk suit. 'We will speak of it later. For now, let us hope your plan will work. And—ah, here come the guards.'
Two dracaenae slithered up to the entrance of my cell, their upper bodies swaying hypnotically over their serpentine lower halves.
'Watch the prisoner,' Atlas ordered.
The dracaenae bowed deeply. Atlas turned back to Luke.
'If you are right and the Jackson boy comes, we will kill him then. If not, he will die anyway, as long as the plan goes as intended. And on that note, we have a quest team to intercept.'
Atlas strode away without a backwards glance.
'We can eat her?' hissed one of the dracaenae.
'No!' Luke said sharply.
'She is a prisoner,' the other dracaena complained. 'We eat prisoners.'
'I said no!'
The dracaenae looked sulky. Luke threw me a worried glance. 'The General needs her alive,' he lied. 'He'll be really pissed off if she dies. We'll be back shortly. Guard her, but don't hurt her!'
'We got to eat the last prisoner,' muttered the first dracaena, once Luke had retreated down the passageway after the General.
'Maybe later, Sssssue,' the second suggested hopefully. In her sibilant voice, the words sounded like they had at least five S's. 'Prisoners don't stay prisoners forever.'
'That is true,' Sue said.
The dracaenae settled themselves outside my cell. Their chunky dragon legs almost blocked the passage outside completely from my view.
'Cards, Sssssandra?' Sue extracted a deck from her blouse pocket.
'Oh, is that the Ancient Islands Expansion Deck?' Sandra said excitedly. The pair of them started to flip through the cards.
My eyelids felt heavy again. I didn't want to fall asleep under monster guard, but there was no fighting my exhaustion. Although the ambrosia had helped to mend some of the damage the sky had wreaked on my body, I was far from healed. Every muscle ached as though I'd climbed ten lava walls and then sprinted the perimeter of camp. Twice.
Fatigue closed in on me. Against my will, my eyes closed. My last thought was a silent, tortured prayer that Percy wouldn't walk into Luke's latest trap.
+++
In my dream, I was being chased by an angry mob with flaming torches. A heavy necklace slapped against my chest as I ran, thumping in time to my pounding heart. I was dressed in a long chiton and golden sandals, staggering over loose gravel on the path. A man ran beside me, holding my hand and keeping me steady when I stumbled. On my other side, a woman with flame-coloured hair kept pace with us.
My gasp caught in my throat. Although she couldn't do anything to me in a dream, I couldn't help the shudder that ran through me when I recognised Kitsune.
Around us, circling like protective guards, were five men so thin they were practically skeletons, with smart, military uniforms that seemed to wear them instead of the other way round.
'Sir!' croaked one of the skeletal guards. 'We could fight—'
'They are still our people, Echion,' the man holding my hand said sharply. 'We will not harm them.'
'Your people,' the guard said. 'And they have turned on you.'
'It is the work of the gods—one god, in particular.'
'Cadmus,' I said, panting, 'it wasn't—'
'Where else did the boar come from?' Cadmus said wildly. 'The people are terrified. They believe we were responsible—and the spartoi—' he nodded at the five skeleton men, 'do not put them at ease. We will leave the city for now and regroup.'
The mob chased us out of a gate in a long stone wall that stretched for miles, encircling the city behind us. The mountainous countryside beyond looked familiar. It was the same terrain that Izzy had traversed on her quest to destroy the Necklace of Harmonia.
As we fled down the slope of a hill, a burly man with a cruelly handsome face stepped into our path, raising one hand to halt our progress. We crashed to a stop as though he had raised an invisible barrier.
'D-Dad,' I stammered.
'Very good, Harmonia,' Ares said icily. 'I see someone has finally told you.'
With a flick of his fingers, the men around me vanished. The guards crumpled into a pile of bones, which sank into the earth, leaving only five sharp teeth. Cadmus's hand released mine, replaced by a thick, coiled snake.
I screamed and dropped him.
Ares smiled coldly. 'I've wanted to do that for a long time.'
'Why? What has he done to you?'
'What hasn't he done?' Ares said. His eyes darted to the necklace I wore. For a moment, he looked confused. Then he shook his head, clearing his expression. 'Your husband commissioned temples to Aphrodite and Hephaestus—in your name!'
'Yes—I asked him to!'
'In the name of peace!' Ares shouted. 'My daughter, goddess of peace!' Spittle flew from his mouth. 'Yes, I am your father, not that—that—cripple!' His eyes bulged. 'As if he could have produced a child this fine.'
'I didn't know!' I shrieked. 'I didn't know you were my dad! And—you didn't know either! Not until—' My eyes darted desperately to the left. Kitsune had vanished as well, but there was the familiar flash of a bushy, red-orange tail darting behind a bush. 'How was I to know it was wrong to pick peace as my domain?'
'You're still wearing his necklace.' Ares jabbed an angry finger towards my chest. 'Cadmus put you up to it, didn't he? If I'd known you were mine, I'd never have let you marry that lout.'
'Don't talk about him like that!' I protested. 'He didn't do anything! And I love him! Turn him back, please!'
'You love him, eh? More than your old Dad? Fine—you can join him!'
With a bright flash, I was thrown out of Harmonia's perspective. Where she had been standing, there was now a bright, mustard-coloured snake sliding out of the circle of her necklace. She slithered off to join snake-Cadmus. They disappeared into the bushes.
Ares bent over the necklace. 'Aha,' he said. 'Cursed, eh?' He shook his fist at the sky. 'Should've known it, you twisted old blacksmith!'
There was another flash of lightning, and Ares disappeared.
Kitsune emerged from her hiding place, transforming back into a woman as she approached the necklace with slow, cautious steps. Her nose turned upwards. She sniffed at it as though she were still the sleek fox.
'Cursed,' she whispered. Her mouth twisted into an anticipatory grin. She reached down and her fingers closed hungrily over the necklace. Then she turned back into the fox and sprinted off. The necklace disappeared with her.
I followed her into a foxhole, but instead of diving underground, I found myself falling through an open sky. I landed with a thump on hard sand.
Wind blew across my face, hot and scorching. Kitsune was nowhere to be seen. Empty plains surrounded me, without even footprints to be seen for miles. I was alone in the vast desert, with the sand swirling around my feet.
Then a depression appeared in the sand in front of me, like an invisible finger was drawing a line through it. All around me, more lines appeared, intersecting to create a twisting pattern like the one I had sketched in Mrs Carlson's class. Walls of sand rose up along the lines. I seemed to be in two places at once: inside the growing walls, and watching from above as the invisible finger traced out a labyrinth in the desert. The wind howled harder than ever, whipping my hair into a frenzy. The sand swirled, blurring out half the maze and obscuring my birds-eye view.
I was inside the walls, which had turned to stone. In my hands, I held one end of a glowing grey thread. The other end extended away from me, floating in mid-air. It led down the passageway of the maze.
I followed it.
The maze twisted around corners, forks, and side passages. Down some of them, I saw brief glimpses of places and people I knew—my old house in Richmond, the tall spire of the Empire State Building, Sally Jackson's careworn face. I kept following the thread, trusting it to lead me to my goal.
I turned a corner and found the end of my thread. It was wound around Luke's kneeling form. His sandy head was bowed before a golden sarcophagus, and his body was shaking. Behind the sarcophagus, Atlas towered over him, wearing a furious expression.
'The daughter of Zeus has failed to kill the monster,' he accused. 'It seems you were wrong.'
Luke looked up hesitantly. 'I—I can convince her,' he said. 'If I just—if I could just talk to her myself—'
'You had better be right,' Atlas said coldly. 'Because if the plan falls apart … well, it will have to be plan Beta then, won't it?'
He turned on his heel and marched away.
'Are you having second thoughts?' It disembodied voice rose from the sarcophagus. It had a scratchy, chilling quality, like nails dragged across steel.
'N-no,' Luke said, although he was shaking as badly as when he'd carried the sky.
Kronos's laugh issued from his golden casket, cold and humourless. 'Remember, Luke Castellan, you promised to secure my rise—whatever the cost.'
The sarcophagus glowed violently. Then its light subsided, leaving us in semi-darkness. Luke put his head in his hands. He didn't seem to notice the blue thread leaving his fingers, joining the end of my grey one. Both blue and grey drifted off towards a third thread, this one a pale green. They all connected and twisted into an intricate plait. There was something familiar about the way they joined together. For some reason, I could hear the clickety-clack of knitting needles, and the sharp snip of scissors.
My ears buzzed with snatches of song, different lyrics overlapping each other—Daughter of wisdom awaits her prophesied fate/A circle of three, tightly woven/A final choice shall end his days …
The green thread jerked, yanking me towards it. The grey thread was all tangled around my legs. When I took a step forward, it tripped me up, making me fall flat on my face. Luke turned to face me when I got up, but he wasn't Luke any more.
Percy stood there, the green thread wound brightly around him. In the space between us, the tricoloured threads wove themselves into a brilliant tapestry. Percy held out his arms and it fell into his hands, becoming a thick lion's pelt. The ground between us melted into a flowing river.
'I'm not Hercules,' Percy said, and he released the lion skin. It dropped into the water, floating at first like a golden raft, then sinking beneath the surface. In the murky water, its colours merged into a new, indescribable shade, like a twinkle in a raindrop or the gleam of sun off a puddle.
A grey thread trailed from the pelt, still tangled around my legs. It pulled me into the water and dragged me down. Underwater, the lion skin became a tapestry again. Its pattern shone as though backlit by an undersea glow. A group of symbols appeared on it: three Greek letters, closely intertwined—Pi, Alpha, Lambda—the sign from the Orobas. And then the circle of prophetic spit appeared. I was finally able to read it in full:
A circle of three bound in love and hate;
An unwitting choice will seal their fate:
One that threads grey through their hair.
Upon the Mountain of Despair,
Only one life shall be forfeit.
The curse of betrayal must one defeat.
I kicked hard, trying to free myself from the sinking tapestry. I found my knife in my sleeve and slashed at the threads binding me. The tapestry fell away from me into the watery depths. I was left with two threads in my hand. One was grey. It was impossible to make out whether the other was green or blue.
There was a rushing in my ears, like I was travelling through a wind tunnel. Whispers drifted to me on the wind, repeating the words of the Orobas’s prophecy.
Holding tight to my two lifelines, I pulled myself up to the surface.
