Chapter Text
Rachel was worried about Max.
In the hour since they’d left the motel, Max hadn’t said much beyond “It’s nothing,” and “I’m fine.” She currently sat on the sidewalk, back against the bus stop’s pitifully small shelter, staring blankly at the concrete between her feet. Chloe and Harrow sat on the narrow bench under the shelter’s canopy, Grimoire open between them and notebooks in their laps, working without saying much to each other. Occasionally, one or both of them would glance toward Max, as if to check that she was still there. Max either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Something else had happened, that much was clear. She was acting far too shifty and withdrawn for it to be a simple fall and a random bloody nose. What could it have been, though? Why wasn’t she sharing it?
“Rach? You in there?”
Rachel shook her head. “Sorry, what?”
Gideon arched a brow at her. They were in the grass a dozen or so feet behind the bus stop with swords drawn, working the morning sluggishness out of their muscles with katas. Or at least, Gideon was. “That’s the third time you’ve spaced out and stopped. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just—”
“Bullsh*t, dude. You don’t have to tell me, but don’t lie and say it’s nothing. I get enough of that from Harrow.”
Rachel grimaced, idly twirling her Bronze rapier in her hand. She lowered her voice. “It’s Max.”
Gideon nodded, sidling a bit closer to Rachel. She drove her greatsword point first into the dirt and rested her impressive arms on the crossguard. “I figured. She’s been too quiet, even for her.”
“I tried talking to her on the walk over,” Rachel said with a sigh. “She wouldn’t tell me anything. I know I shouldn’t expect her to trust me with personal stuff yet. We’ve only been together for a few days, if you can even call it that. But…”
“But it feels like rejection anyway.”
Dense as Gideon could be sometimes, she did occasionally have moments of genuine insight. That, or she just knew Rachel well. Tragically few people could say that. “Yeah. I wish we had the kind of bond that both of us have with Chloe. But that takes time, and we might not ever get enough…”
By a lover’s hand one will drown. Did Rachel and Max even qualify as lovers? They’d never had sex; hell, they’d barely kissed. If the Fates were cruel enough to force one to kill the other anyway…
“Don’t think like that. We’ve survived this long, haven’t we?”
“No thanks to me,” Rachel mumbled, grateful for all her training in suppressing tears. “I’m no use in battle, I’m no use in solving Lyctorhood, I can’t even cheer up my own partner. Gods, Gideon, what am I doing here?”
f*cking hell, now she’d gone and said the quiet part out loud. No doubt the whole group had been thinking it the entire time anyway, especially since the encounter with Hunter. Rachel had contributed nothing to that, bowled over and down for the count before she could so much as get close. Having her rapier would’ve changed nothing. She almost dropped it on principle.
A firm, steady hand gripped her shoulder. Gideon looked her in the eyes. Gods, Gideon had beautiful eyes. “You’re keeping us together, Rach. We’d spend more time fighting each other than our enemies without you. And sure, you can’t help with the nerd sh*t, neither can I. Your other two points? Utter bullsh*t.”
“What? But I–”
“But nothing. You’re a hell of a sword hand, I’ve seen it myself. Don’t use that dickhe*d’s ambush as proof that you can’t fight. Literally none of us were on our A game that night, so he got in some cheap shots. You’ll show him what for when we see him next. And don’t even get me started on ‘can’t cheer up my partner.’ Both Max and Chloe would be wrecks without you here. Whatever reason Max has for keeping quiet, it’s got nothing to do with you.”
Rachel blinked, taken aback by all the praise. “You– You can’t know that.”
“I can, actually. Chloe also tried talking to her on the way over, overheard the whole thing. Believe it or not, Max wouldn’t say anything to her either.”
“...Really? sh*t.” That did make Rachel feel a little better; if Max wouldn’t confide in Chloe, she wouldn’t confide in anyone. It did ratchet up Rachel’s worry several notches though. What could Max possibly feel the need to hide from Chloe?
“You’re spiraling, Rach,” Gideon said softly, squeezing her shoulder. “Come back. We need you, no matter what your dumbass brain tries to tell you.”
Rachel released a shaky breath and sheathed her rapier. Gideon stepped around her planted greatsword. They embraced tightly. “Thank you,” Rachel whispered into Gideon’s shoulder.
“Anytime,” Gideon whispered back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It happens. Always happy to play whack-a-mole with your brain weasels when it does.”
She always was, wasn’t she? What had begun as a casual friends-with-benefits situation had slowly morphed into Gideon being a real confidant for Rachel. Someone that could see past her many masks to the struggling girl beneath, and offer a kind word and a shoulder to cry on. It was the kind of connection she hadn’t expected to find in anyone other than Chloe. But then, they were very similar in attitude, if not in skills or appearance.
“You’re one of my best friends, Gideon,” Rachel murmured. “I don’t say it enough.”
“Likewise,” Gideon said, her breath audibly hitching. “I’m glad to have you at my back, Rach. We’ll get through this, and we’ll flip off the Fates while doing it.”
That attitude was getting harder to hold onto with each day that passed. When Gideon said it, Rachel could almost believe it again. “Hell yeah.”
They hugged for a bit longer - Rachel did her absolute best to not let the feeling of Gideon’s hard, sculpted muscles distract from the moment - before separating. Gideon retrieved her sword and sheathed it, then motioned toward the bus stop. “Come on, let’s save Chloe before she withers from overexposure to the Bone Empress.”
“It certainly hasn’t been good for her,” Rachel muttered, glaring through the shelter’s glass at Harrow’s hunched back. She’d been quiet since Rachel’s admonition at the truck stop last night, only saying as much as she needed to and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Was it too much to hope that she might take the words to heart? Probably. It’d take a hell of a lot more than the disapproval of a lowly Dionysus kid to change someone as stubborn as Harrowhark Nonagesimus.
As they approached, Max glanced up at Rachel with what seemed like… guilt? Rachel offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She got a tiny smile back. It was something.
“Sup, nerds,” Gideon said by way of greeting to Chloe and Harrow. “How much longer?”
Chloe looked up from her notebook, covered in notations and symbols Rachel couldn’t begin to decipher, and at the digital display beside her. “Fifteen minutes. Assuming it shows up on time. It probably won’t.”
“Public transport rarely does,” Max said tonelessly, back to staring at the sidewalk. At least she was listening. “Especially intercity stuff.”
“Have you rode on a lot?” Rachel asked.
Max nodded. “We lived in Albany, but Mom had me in some… remedial programs for troubled students in Utica. We had to take a bus there and back almost every weekend.”
“She knew you were struggling and pawned you off to someone else?” Gideon said with a scowl. “She should’ve known how to help you, being half-blood herself.”
“Children of Hecate and Trivia are often exempt from the learning disadvantages suffered by other half-bloods,” Harrow said quietly, not looking up from her notes. “She likely had no experience of her own to draw on.”
Gideon blinked. “sh*t, really? Guess that explains a lot about SexPal.”
“Indeed.” Harrow hesitated. “You need not be ashamed of your scholastic deficiencies, Caulfield. There are many other ways in which to excel.” She said it slowly, deliberately, as though surprised by the words coming out of her own mouth.
Everyone else certainly was, all staring at Harrow like she’d grown a second head. Max in particular seemed gobsmacked. She swallowed. “Oh, uh… Thanks for saying so, Harrow.”
Harrow very pointedly didn’t take her eyes off her notebook. “That said, please cultivate common sense. Do not use Griddle as a model in that regard.”
“Thanks, asshole,” Gideon said without heat and an almost lazy roll of her eyes. Rachel could’ve sworn she saw the corner of Harrow’s lip twitch.
Then, because the universe couldn’t let them have nice things, the moment was abruptly ended by a series of distant explosions.
Max, Chloe and Harrow all sprang to their feet. Several blocks down and a few blocks over, columns of smoke and fire were rising into the morning sky, obscuring the view of the Chicago skyline beyond. Screams echoed down the narrow streets. More booms rattled the glass of the shelter.
“Monsters?” Max asked.
“Probably,” Gideon said. “Scratch that, with our luck, definitely.”
“Mortals will be in danger either way,” Rachel said.
“Then… then we have to go help,” Max said quietly, shakily. “That’s what heroes do, right?”
“You’re godsdamn right,” Chloe agreed.
Harrow groaned softly, but said, “Then let us be swift about it.”
They took off at a brisk run toward the smoke. They had to swerve around panicked mortals fleeing the scene. More explosions made Rachel’s ears ring. A thick sulfurous smell filled the air.
Between the booms, beneath the ringing, there were guttural roars and heavy impacts, accompanied by… human yells? The sound of rushing water? And a distinct metallic clanging, the unmistakable sound of battle.
They turned a corner and got a view of the carnage, obstructed somewhat by the people fleeing en masse. Plumes of smoke and fire rose from a square themed like an old timey town center. A fountain in the middle had been completely shattered and was spraying water wildly into the air. Four hulking forms were visible above the crowd, something like nine feet tall and rippling with muscle, with tiny heads set in savage grins. Laistrygonians.
They were split up into pairs on opposite ends of the square, each swinging massive arms at things Rachel couldn’t see past the people in her way. The water from the ruined fountain was coalescing and rushing towards the pair on the right, cracking at them like an aquatic whip. They roared in pain and staggered back, at which point a wall of water erupted in front of them and shoved them back further.
Hydrokinesis? But that could only mean…
The party broke free of the straggling mortals and barreled into the square. Sure enough, each Laistrygonian pair was attacking a different woman clad in a purple shirt. The one to the left was built like Gideon, with muscled arms covered in tattoos and a snarl on her face as she fended off the giants with a Gold spear. The other was slender, with vibrant red curls and a Bronze knife in her hand, conducting the water’s motions with graceful movements of her other hand.
“Romans?” Harrow said above the din. “Here?”
“We have to help them,” Max said, voice wobbly but determined. She drew her knife. Rachel and Gideon followed suit.
“Stay close to me, Max,” Chloe said, pulling out Vanessa’s gnarled dragon horn. “The two of us and Harrow will help Spear. Rach, Gideon, go help Red.”
Thankfully, everyone moved as she suggested, no arguments needed. Rachel and Gideon dashed into battle side by side with swords raised and war cries on their lips. They took the first Laistrygonian completely by surprise; it barely had time to raise a fist before Rachel deftly drove a thrust through its left knee. It dropped like a sack of potatoes, its pained howl cut short when Gideon decapitated it with one slice. Its corpse burst into a cloud of fine yellow dust.
The redhead beamed at them and pressed her attack on the remaining giant with renewed vigor, driving it back towards the ruined fountain with high pressure water blasts. The monster roared and swung blindly, preventing either Rachel or Gideon from getting close enough for a decisive blow. They harassed it from just beyond its reach, covering it in puncture wounds and cuts, wearing it down bit by bit, until—
A javelin of bone suddenly burst through the Laistrygonian’s forehead. Its shocked expression quickly crumbled. Behind where it had been, Harrow stood with a palm outstretched. Chloe, Max, and the muscled Roman were a bit further back, no worse for wear. Some thick vines had burst through the courtyard’s bricks and were dusted in monster powder.
Damn. That had to be one of the shortest fights Rachel had ever been in. Seven demigods working together were no joke.
They all regrouped on the side of the square the Greeks had come from, away from the spraying water and the smoke. Rachel was glad to see no obvious injuries on anyone; Max even looked a bit thrilled by the experience. “That was… Wowzers,” she said in a daze. “I had no idea they’d disintegrate like that. Gods, it all happened so fast.”
“First monster battle? It’s a rush, huh?” The redhead said with a soft voice that had an enticingly melodic cadence to it. She waved a hand toward the square, directing a large blob of water to put out the raging fires. While it worked, she looked over her muscled companion with a concerned eye. “You alright? Thought they almost had you.”
“They didn’t have sh*t. I’m fine.” The strong woman’s voice was gruff, jaded. She slung her Gold spear across her back and crossed her impressive arms. Her bronze skin, a couple shades lighter than Gideon’s, bore intricate tattoos depicting various animals against a starry sky. An eagle, a bear, and a bull bordered the black Legion tattoo on her forearm. She wore her coarse black hair in an undercut much like Gideon’s, though she’d let it grow a bit longer.
“No doubt because of our new friends here.” The redhead turned to the Greeks and smiled radiantly. Now that the battle was over, Rachel was noticing just how pretty she was. Fair skin, round features, a light dusting of freckles, curved in all the right places. She held herself like she knew it too, with a hand resting on a popped out hip. Gods, and her curls were so glossy and voluminous, what was her hair care routine like? “We could’ve handled ourselves, but thanks anyway.”
“We were happy to help. More than happy,” Gideon said quickly, eagerly. Rachel suppressed a smirk. She knew exactly what was going through Gideon’s mind right now.
“Yes, happy,” Harrow said through her teeth. Rachel could probably guess what was going through her mind too. “And now that we have, you can thank us by explaining who you are, and what you’re doing here.”
“I’m Siren,” said the redhead. “Daughter of Neptune, in case it wasn’t obvious. That’s Pierce, daughter of Mars. Safe to assume you guys are the Greek quest party?”
“And how would you know that?” Harrow demanded.
“Word gets around quick, you know.” Siren eyed Harrow critically. “Hmm. Bone jewelry, mistrustful - you must be Harrowhark.”
Harrow’s eyes narrowed “My reputation precedes me, does it? Pity I can’t say the same for you. In fact, I’m quite certain I’ve never heard of you. Strange, for a supposed Big Three child. You must be particularly unnoteworthy.”
“Watch it,” growled Pierce with a scowl at Harrow. Harrow scowled right back, though Rachel didn’t miss how her eyes flicked to Pierce’s arms.
“It’s fine, Pierce,” Siren said diplomatically, though she pursed her lips at Harrow. “How many Romans can you name? Somehow I doubt you’re on great terms with many, even without the whole impending war thing.”
Harrow started to say something else, but Chloe cut her off. “Lay off her already, Harrow. You could at least hear them out before throwing insults around.”
“Seriously,” Gideon muttered. “Sorry about her. She does that even to people she knows. Happens when you don’t properly socialize your gremlin.” She ignored the daggers Harrow was glaring at the side of her head.
“It’s alright, I know the type.” Sirens - as in wailing emergency sirens - made Siren tilt her head. “We should probably find somewhere else to talk. Dealing with mortal authorities - awkward.”
“There’s a park by the bus stop we were waiting at,” Rachel said. “Let’s head that way, just in case our bus does end up showing.”
“You don’t mean that bus, do you?” Pierce jerked a thumb at a long, mangled pile of burnt out metal near the far end of the square. A barely legible label near the front read Midwest Charter: Chicago - Des Moines.
The five of them swore. Max groaned and looked up at the sky. “We can’t get even one lucky break, can we?”
“So it goes with quests, huh?” Siren said with an apologetic smile. “If you want, we could help you find another ride.”
“The offer is appreciated,” Harrow growled, “but we won’t be needing—”
“That’s not up to you, Harrow,” Rachel snapped. “Max is the quest leader. It’s her call.” Harrow gnashed her teeth, but backed down when she realized all four of her companions were shooting her dirty looks.
“It should be a group decision,” Max said after a moment’s thought. “But like Chloe said, let’s hear them out first. There’s no harm in talking.”
The group veered away from the square at a brisk walk, heading back the way the Greeks had come. Gideon ended up behind Siren, and was clearly trying not to let her eyes wander, evident by her cheeks being nearly as red as her hair. Rachel elbowed her hard in the ribs with a sly smile. She flipped Rachel off. Chloe rolled her eyes fondly.
Except - Huh. Gideon wasn’t the only one taking an interest in their new companions. Harrow was alternating between trying to kill Siren with her gaze and looking at Pierce with… It was hard to place, but her immovable scowl actually loosened a fraction. She was definitely tracing Pierce’s shoulders and arms with her eyes, and was blissfully unaware that Rachel had noticed.
Well. This was going to be interesting.
Siren turned to Max with a friendly smile. “Max, right? You’re the quest leader?”
“Y-Yeah, somehow.” Max swallowed nervously. “I shouldn’t be. I’m still really new to all of this. I only got to camp a couple weeks ago.”
“Didn’t seem like it,” Pierce said with a sidelong glance. “Charging a Laistrygonian with just a knife? Takes guts.”
Rachel blinked. Max had done that? Damn, Rachel hadn’t seen it. Max scratched the back of her head bashfully. “I wouldn’t have done that without Chloe and Harrow there—”
“Good, means you’re brave, but not stupid.”
“She’s right,” Siren said. “Relying on your allies is important. If you’ve already learned that so early, then I say you’re off to a pretty strong start.”
Max blushed. “T-Thanks.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why are you the quest leader? Why did the Greeks pick you?”
“They didn’t pick me, not really. The Oracle said it had to be me.”
“Oh? Why?”
“You ask too many questions,” Harrow growled.
“And you have too many sticks up your ass,” Gideon retorted. “f*ck’s sake, it’s not like she’s asking for the camp nuclear codes.”
Siren chuckled, which had the predictable effect on Gideon’s complexion. “You’re funny. Must be that natural redhead charm.”
“U-Uh, yeah. Go us. Wooo.”
“And I’ve gotta say,” Siren continued, looking back at Gideon with a critical eye, “not often I meet someone who looks like they could match Pierce in strength. You got a name, or should I just call you muscles?” Pierce shot her a perturbed look, which she either didn’t notice or ignored.
Gideon seemed to be about two seconds away from combusting where she stood. “M-My name? Oh, uh, yeah, sure, it’s– Yeah, um, it’s– Griddle. No, wait, f*ck, no it’s not, sorry, it’s– Gideon. My name’s Gideon. Yeah.” Rachel and Chloe shared a mirthful look, both barely holding it in. They were never going to let her live this down.
“Eloquent as ever, Griddle.” Harrow said through her teeth, then glared at Siren. “You give her too much credit. She has brute strength in spades, but endurance? Utterly nonexistent. She’d faint if you got near her with a tattoo needle.”
Siren arched an eyebrow at her. “Got tattoos on the brain, do you?”
“You’re the one who invited the comparison with your companion,” Harrow retorted. She turned to Pierce, who shifted uncomfortably as the much shorter girl openly appraised the ink on her arms. “Interesting designs with a consistent theme. The zodiac? No, constellations in general. The linework is quite striking; the artist is talented.”
Pierce blinked. “I’ll, uh, be sure to tell them you said—”
“She’s the artist,” Siren said with a roll of her eyes. “Designed every one of those herself.”
“Siren… ” Pierce sighed.
Siren shrugged. “Not gonna let you undersell yourself, bitch.”
Harrow’s gaze seemed to take on an entirely new life with that information. “Talented and modest? Perhaps there is something to the claim that Romans tend to be more refined.”
Pierce blushed almost brightly as Gideon. “O-Oh. Um, thanks.”
Not for the first time that day, Rachel was dumbfounded. Harrowhark Nonagesimus, openly complimenting someone? Hell, that barely even registered because holy sh*t, was Harrowhark Nonagesimus trying to flirt? And was it working?!
Rachel didn’t see how the others reacted, as her glance went right to Gideon. She seemed to be rapidly fluctuating between the first four stages of grief as she stared at Harrow. Eventually, she settled on anger and looked away.
Alright, so maybe interesting wasn’t the right word for whatever this was gonna be. Disaster seemed more fitting.
They reached the park Rachel had indicated and gathered around a fire pit set into the ground. The mortals had all cleared out on account of the nearby chaos, but Rachel still wove a Mist cloak around them just in case. They really didn’t need to be the subjects of a national manhunt like some of their predecessors. Percy in particular.
“So, rudely as Harrow put it earlier,” Chloe said with a pointed look, “I think we’re all curious what you guys are doing so far east, especially given… recent events.”
Siren grimaced, idly motioning with a finger to make a nearby puddle swish around. “We’re not supposed to be. Camp doesn’t know. They definitely wouldn’t have approved of us looking for you.”
“You were specifically looking for us?” Max asked, eyes wide.
“Of course. We want to help you, Max.” Siren’s smile was warm, welcoming, and set something burning in Rachel’s chest. Half of it, she recognized as possessiveness, and did her best to discard it. Max was cute, of course she was going to get attention. If the interest was mutual, she was more than welcome to pursue it.
The other half was jealous of Max. Rachel wasn’t blind. Or straight.
“How exactly did you know to find us here?” Harrow asked. “We’ve been incredibly selective about who is aware of our movements.”
Before Siren could respond, Gideon groaned and facepalmed. She looked at Pierce through a gap between her fingers. “Let me guess. Dad told you?”
Pierce smirked. “Not good at keeping a secret, is he?”
“Gods damn it.”
Hmm. Ares and Mars were technically the same god, but Rachel wasn’t clear on how that affected the relations between children of his different aspects. Were Gideon and Pierce siblings? More like cousins? The Greco-Roman split was needlessly confusing at times. Rachel set that aside for now. “So you guys obviously don’t think we were responsible for the attack, then.”
“Course not,” Pierce said. “Stealing the Eagle is one thing, but a surprise firebombing? Not the Greek style. You’d have gone for a more strategic target, anyway.”
“How much have you guys found out?” Siren asked. “Any suspects yet?”
“A couple,” Chloe said with a grimace. “We fought one, and it was… Well, you wouldn’t be signing up for a cakewalk by joining us.”
“We didn’t come all this way expecting easy,” Pierce said. “We’re prepared to do our part.”
Harrow hesitated when she looked at Pierce, but still shook her head. “Our prophecy is specific about five seeking the stolen Eagle. You invite misfortune by swelling our numbers.”
That was the first of Harrow’s arguments to make the rest of the Greeks hesitate, even Gideon. Pierce glanced at Siren as though looking for direction. Siren didn’t bat an eye. “Prophecies often leave out temporary allies. Truth be told, our alibis will only work for a few days before we’re expected back, lest we get charged with desertion. Finishing the job will be up to you, but we can at least help get you there.”
Harrow harumphed, but didn’t raise an objection. Max hesitated, wrestling with her words, before asking, “What’s in it for you two? I get wanting to help, but I just can’t imagine choosing to join something so dangerous without a good reason.”
The Romans’ expressions darkened. Siren grimaced and looked away. Pierce answered, low and somber. “Lives are at stake. Our friends. Our families. Everything depends on the outcome of your quest. Trust me, we have motivation.”
The way she said it sent chills through Rachel. Gods, it was so easy to forget how many people were counting on them. The weight of it settled firmly in her gut, and it was crushing.
A long moment passed with nothing but the wind and the distant sirens. The five Greeks regarded the two Romans with mixed emotions: admiration, hate, curiosity, lust, melancholy. The Romans regarded them in turn with practiced neutrality, waiting for their verdict.
“Give us a moment to discuss it,” Chloe broke the silence. “We won’t be long.”
“Take the time you need,” Siren said. “We’ll be waiting.”
The Greeks withdrew from the fire pit and formed a loose circle some distance away. Chloe cast a spell to filter sound coming in and out, then said, “So, do we bring them with us? They seem capable, and we could use the help.”
“My vote is yes, and not for the reason you think,” Gideon said, refusing to so much as look in Harrow’s direction. “After we’re done in Des Moines, wherever we go from there, we’ll be crossing into Roman territory. Having a couple with us could help avoid hostilities if we encounter others.”
“That’s a good point,” Rachel said, “but I have concerns. Namely, about the hostilities that might arise between us with them around.” She pointedly looked at Gideon and Harrow in turn.
“As if this is an isolated phenomenon,” Harrow said, also not looking at Gideon. “Griddle would make a fool of herself for any woman that shows her a scrap of attention, Roman or not.”
“You’re one to talk, Gloom Mistress,” Gideon muttered. “Want to eyef*ck that beefcake some more while you’re at it?”
“My point,” Rachel said with a sigh.
“It’s irrelevant regardless,” Harrow said, cheeks notably flushed. “My vote is no. We have enough concerns about who we can trust without adding two more unknowns.”
“I agree,” Rachel said. “My vote is also no.”
“I think we have more to gain from their help than we have to risk,” Chloe said. “Especially if we have to fight Hunter again. I vote yes, which makes you the tiebreaker, Max.”
Max pursed her lips and put on her serious thinking face, which was quite adorable. After a minute or so, she said slowly, “It’s strange, but they seem… safe to me, you know? I don’t know why, I just feel sure that we can trust them.”
Harrow hummed and narrowed her eyes. “Why would that be? Your Roman blood, perhaps? Or…?”
“They seem trustworthy to me too,” Gideon said.
“Yes, well, you are clearly thinking with your—”
“Anyway,” Chloe cut in loudly. “Is that a yes, Max?”
Max nodded. “Yeah. That said, I don’t want to completely ignore Rachel and Harrow’s worries. Let’s offer them some terms they have to agree to if they want to join us.”
Rachel half-smiled at her partner. “Said like a quest leader. Alright, let’s hash out some terms.”
Siren thought the plan was going marvelously so far. Pierce clearly didn’t agree.
“They’ve been talking for too long. They could be on to us,” Pierce muttered despite the soundproofing spell around them. She moved her lips as little as possible in case one of the demigods could read them. That much caution was probably excessive; the Greeks were paying them no mind, far too absorbed in whatever heated discussion they were having.
“Nah, they just like bickering,” Siren said, idly twirling her knife between her fingers. “Nav and Nonagesimus especially. They want to f*ck each other so bad it makes them stupid. Riling them up is child’s play.”
Pierce grunted. “Good work with Nav. I always forget what a good actress you are.”
Siren had to stifle a laugh. “You thought I was acting with that?”
“Wait- You’re actually attracted to—?”
“Of course, dumbass. She’s hot.”
The laugh slipped out at the incredulous look Pierce gave her. “I can’t say I understand the appeal. At all.”
You’ve never understood your own appeal either. “Eh, to each their own.” Siren inclined her head with a knowing smile. “Nonagesimus is much more your speed, yeah?”
Pierce looked away with pink cheeks. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Really? The short and mean wielder of casual blasphemies against nature doesn’t do anything for you? Cause you sure do something for her.”
“She seemed completely ambivalent to me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re even denser than Seer is. She was practically eyef*cking you.”
“And what is your point, exactly?” Pierce snapped. “They’re demigods, and we have a job to do.”
“And who says we can’t have a little fun with our work?” Siren flipped her knife to her other hand and kept twirling it with equal dexterity; that had taken far more practice than she cared to admit. “Aren’t you just a bit curious how a demigod would be? Know your enemy and all that…”
“That’s absolutely not what that— Ugh, nevermind. What are your thoughts on Max?”
Siren eyed the waifish brunette in question, who had her back to them. “Soon as she got close, I felt it. She’s definitely one of us. Who do you suppose her father is?”
“Couldn’t tell just looking at her. But… The queen’s been seeing her in the throne room. And what she did to Hunter, what the queen sensed about it…”
The knife spun to an abrupt stop in Siren’s fingers. She glanced at Pierce. “You don’t think…?”
“I hope not. It would throw the entire cause into disarray. But we need to consider the possibility.”
Siren hummed. “It’s a longshot. There’s a lot of more likely explanations. Hunter’s account of things could be warped. He did get stabbed in the ribs.”
“You still bitter about that? The queen said she’s forgiven.”
“I know, but… f*ck, he almost died. I’ll try to forgive, but it’s not as simple as deciding to.”
“Mm. Maybe you won’t end up having to. Law won’t protect her if she decides to stick with the Greeks even once she knows the truth.”
“She seems naive, but only an utter fool would choose the gods that condemn them. It won’t happen.” And if our suspicion is somehow correct, we can’t allow it to happen.
“Love makes fools of the wise.”
“True.” Siren narrowed her eyes at Price and Amber. “We may need a plan for that…”
She snapped her mouth shut as the Greeks all nodded and started back towards them. Siren dispelled the soundproofing spell with a flick of her wrist. Pierce stopped her pacing and slipped back into the impassive, stoic mask she’d adopted for this operation. Interactions with bone gremlins aside, she was a much better actress than she gave herself credit for.
“So, you’ve decided?” Siren asked, avoiding Nonagesimus’ blistering gaze for now. Plenty of fun to be had getting under her skin later.
“We’ll let you join us,” Max said, “but we have some conditions.”
This wisp of a girl clearly lacked both confidence and experience. Yet, when she spoke, Siren felt compelled to listen closely, to give her words special heed. Did that mean…? No, that was reaching. It was probably just Siren’s irresistible drive to make a good impression on someone cute. “Name them.”
“You both swear on the Styx that you won’t harm any of us.”
A power I respect far more has already ordered me not to. “Easy. I swear on the River Styx that I will do no willful physical harm to any of you, except in self defense.” After the thunder rumbled overhead, Siren asked, “Is that acceptable?”
“Do you anticipate needing to use self defense?” Nonagesimus asked in a frigid tone.
With you around, I doubt even your allies could rule that out. “Not unless you make it necessary.”
“It’s acceptable,” Price said, then looked at Pierce. “Now you.”
Pierce repeated Siren’s oath. When it was done, Max nodded and said, “Next, you swear on the Styx not to share details of our movements or plans with anyone else.”
Hmm. Well, it wasn’t like that kind of information would be particularly helpful to anyone else, given that Hunter had been recalled. Their updates to the queen would have to be kept succinct and light on details. She would approve if it was necessary to gain the demigods’ trust. “Of course. I swear on the River Styx to not share any information regarding this group’s movements or plans with any outside party, for the duration of the group’s prophesied endeavor.”
“Plan to spill all the details after the fact, do you?” Nonagesimus hissed. How did anyone put up with her constant whining?
“I’d like to eventually be able to tell stories about whatever sh*t we get into without being made an Oathbreaker, yes.” That wasn’t really a lie. Hunter and Howl would get a kick out of the drama they’d already caused, and tales from a faux alliance with demigods was bound to provide a lot of rare novelty for Maya. “Is that a problem?”
“No, it isn’t,” Amber said with a pointed glare at Nonagesimus. “That’s acceptable.”
Once again, Pierce repeated the oath. Then Max said, “Lastly, you tell us anything you know about a potential spy in Camp Jupiter, and swear the truth of it on the Styx.”
Siren’s heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t let it show. They’d gotten incredibly lucky. The identity of the Camp Jupiter spy was a closely guarded secret, known only to the queen and her two hands, Hunter and Maya. Had the Greeks decided to ask about the Camp Half-Blood spy, the entire charade would’ve collapsed.
She frowned as though confused. “I know nothing about the identity of any potential spies in Camp Jupiter. I swear this is true on the River Styx.” She glanced at Nonagesimus, expecting a complaint, but the hellspawn just pursed her lips. When Pierce completed this oath as well, all the other Greeks visibly relaxed.
“Sorry about all that,” Max said with an apologetic smile. “You guys seem trustworthy, but we had to make sure.”
She must sense the kinship between us, and not have words for it. What kind of life has she lived, ignorant of all this? Did she live as a mortal before now? Oh, the stories she must have…
“It’s alright, we get it.” Siren sheathed her knife and stood. Phase One complete. Now for Phase Two. “So, first things first, we need to find a new ride. Des Moines, right?”
“Yeah,” Price said with a frown. “No direct train there, unfortunately. Not another bus for a few days, either. We might have to steal a van or something.”
“That’s a good backup plan, but we might have a better one. It’s probably not fast, but it could involve reclaiming some old Greek armaments…”
That got all of their full attention. “Elaborate,” said Nonagesimus with a scowl. Siren heroically resisted the urge to do a mocking impression of her.
Time to make use of years of espionage by their mysterious Roman benefactor. “You guys know about the Bunkers Camp Half-Blood built during the last Demigod Civil War, right?”
“Of course,” said Amber. “Bunker 9 contained the blueprints for the flying ship that the Seven used in the Giant War.”
“Well, the Romans of that time knew of them, and made efforts to find them. They were able to narrow down a few locations, though they never definitively located any. They seemed certain that Bunker 2 was located somewhere in Chicago, and that it contained a Greek prototype for a flying vehicle.”
“How do you know this?” Price asked. It seemed more curious than accusatory. “Attempts were made to locate any other Bunkers after the Giant War, but a lot of Camp Half-Blood’s records from the last civil war were destroyed as part of the effort to separate the camps. Even the Athena archives don’t have much.”
“Camp Jupiter’s records weren’t destroyed, just buried in the University archives,” Pierce said. “Lots of those old reports have been dredged up lately. The Bunkers are of particular interest to some of the Centurions, as they’re also supposed to be weapon caches. Since 2 would’ve been close to the front, it probably has a lot more than most.”
Siren contained a smile. Little did the Greeks know, those old reports had been dredged up by their agent, shared with the queen’s hands, then disposed of. No Centurions had ever read them, and no demigods would be getting their hands on those weapons.
“That would definitely be a huge help to camp if we could find it,” Nav said, stroking her chin. Storms, her face was so handsome. “Our own flying vehicle sounds pretty awesome, too. Would save us a lot of worry about traveling. And hey, it’d be fitting, right? The Seven had a flying ship, there’s seven of us now. They had Greeks and Romans, we have Greeks and Romans. It’s like poetry or something.”
“In case it slipped your vacuous excuse for a mind,” Nonagesimus said through grit teeth, “we cannot travel by air. Zeus will not suffer me, and I doubt Jupiter would suffer her either.” She jerked her chin at Siren.
Luckily, Siren had already considered that as part of her plan. “The Bunkers were each associated with a Greek Olympian, yes? If 9 was for Hephaestus, it stands to reason that 2 would be for Hera. If you were to beseech her for safe passage on a ship made in her honor, I doubt Zeus would be willing to incur her wrath. Jupiter certainly won’t.”
Nonagesimus considered that, though she definitely wasn’t happy about it. “Hmm. I suppose both Percy Jackson and my half-brother Nico sailed on the Argo II under the protection of Juno…”
“It’s worth a try,” Max said. “If it seems like it won’t work out, we can always grab a mortal vehicle instead. It sounds like it’s worth finding anyway for the weapons.”
“That’s the problem though, finding it,” Amber said. “Bunker 9 stayed hidden for almost two hundred years, and it was literally in Camp Half-Blood. How the hell do we narrow it down from somewhere in Chicago? We can’t afford to stay here long.”
Admittedly, this was where Siren’s scheming fell short. “Hmm. Guess there wouldn’t be anyone at Camp Half-Blood that would know, huh?”
“No, but…” Price’s brow furrowed. “There might not need to be.”
“What are you thinking, babe?” Amber asked.
“Part of why Bunker 9 stayed hidden was the warding magic woven into the structure, designed to make it so only a child of Hephaestus could find and open it. Hera’s never had any demigod children, but it’s safe to assume they’d still put some kind of security spells on it to keep the Romans out. I know a ritual that might allow me to lock on to that magic.”
“A Tracing Invocation?” Nonagesimus said. “The signal would be incredibly weak unless you were already near it. You’d need a full moon to have any chance of success.”
“There’s one tonight,” Pierce said. “Trust me, I keep track of these things.”
Nonagesimus raised an eyebrow at her, scowl slipping from her face. “You have an interest in witchcraft?”
Pierce inclined her head. “You could call it that, yeah.”
“Hmm,” Nonagesimus hummed with forced neutrality, though Siren wasn’t fooled. Oh yeah, she definitely wanted a good Piercing.
“Do we have to waste an entire day waiting for nightfall, then?” Nav asked.
“Bold of you to assume any part of this would be that easy,” Price retorted, though her gaze was distant, deep in thought. “I’ll need specific reagents to perform the ritual. Everything I brought from camp got torched on the train. We’ll need to source more. Most of it will be pretty simple, but some things…”
“Chicago’s got a lot going on mythically,” Amber said. “Whatever you need, we can probably find it somewhere.”
“You’re right, but again we run into the problem that Chicago is f*cking big . Much as I hate to say it, we might need to split up.”
“We promised we’d stay together,” Max protested, almost desperately. “If we get ambushed again—”
“You’ve got us now,” Siren said. “More bodies makes splitting up less of a risk.” And gives us a better chance of talking to you without unwanted ears.
“Yeah, and it will give some people some needed space from some other people,” Nav said snidely.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Nonagesimus spat back. Wow. And Siren had thought Pierce and Maya had a strained situationship.
“I don’t like it either, Max,” Amber said softly, putting a hand on Max’s shoulder. “But if Chloe thinks we need to, we should trust her.”
Max bit her lip, hesitated for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. I definitely trust you, Chloe. Just… let’s be extra careful, alright?”
“Always am, Maxisaurus,” Price said with a co*cky smirk. Hmm. She and Amber were definitely going to be a problem. Siren would have to think on how to solve it. “Okay, if this is the plan we’re settling on, let’s get started. This is what I’m going to need…”
