#yes he was also a sopping wet disaster don't know how that happened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trinity-mia · 4 months

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a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

1.9 creating life-long grudges

warnings : large-scale sword fight, mention of injuries, ares is also angry, cussing, mention of guns (that aren't actually guns)

word count : 3.7k

1.9 Thank the Gods for All Those Years of Sword Training Because... Yikes

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but thankfully they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. Or why my backpack had been completely dry (yes, I was going to compromise everything just so nothing of mine would get ruined. Call me shallow, I don't care). They probably thought our boat had capsized or something. Anyway, there was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls. They didn't have time to worry about us. Or about me being me, which I was pretty stoked about.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even mine. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, I'd silently prayed they wouldn't pick me out of the water and find me perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So, I'd willed myself to get soaked. Sure enough, my usual waterproof magic had abandoned me, sparing only my Louis backpack.

Luke was barefoot, having given his shoes to Grover to cover up his hooves after his shoes disappeared somewhere in the ocean. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. I felt as if I'd just come back from the dead— which I guess I technically had. My backpack was heavy with Zeus's master bolt. My heart was even heavier from seeing my mother. It felt like I had abandoned her, even though she'd have been pissed at me if I'd chosen her over one of my friends or myself.

"I don't believe it," Luke said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," I interrupted him. "A strategy worthy of Athena. You get it right? You know what happened?"

"I know," he grimaced, eyes dropping to the ground. "I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"

"Allie..." Luke murmured, reaching out to touch my shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry..."

"The prophecy was right," I said instead, dusting off my wet skirt uselessly. "'You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades' helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's daughter. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it." Luke pulled me into a hug and it took everything in me to keep from crying.

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want a war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, staring grimly down the beach. "Gee, let me think about that for a fucking moment."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," I accused, rage welling up in my chest. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power, that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? One of your kids? Clarisse was at the winter solstice, but she would never have done something like that. She's a good person. I suppose she must get it from her mother's side."

My statement seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

From his pocket, he took out a ski cap, the kind that bank robbers wear, and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"You fucking bastard!" I cried furiously. I had never been so pissed off in my life, both with Ares and myself. I had played right into his trap.

"But this war will tear the world apart!" Luke protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. The bloodier the better, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," I crossed my arms in front of my chest to keep myself from leaping at him with my bare hands. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like those swords you got, kid. They always return to you, right?"

I wasn't sure how Ares knew about that, but I guess that a god of war had to make it his business to know about weapons.

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way, no big loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I... yeah... with that kind of firepower..."

He held the trance for one second... two seconds...

I exchanged confused and nervous looks with Luke who was gripping his own sword pommel tensely.

Ares' expression cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught red-handed, holding the thing."

"You're lying," I declared. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" He snarled as smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, making it seem as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," I guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn them over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let them go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

I hesitated at that. Then I gave him a half-smile that said 'I won.' "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk. "Let's get back to the problem at hand, sugar. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hard-headed idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp Half-Blood. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at me with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

I stepped into the surf, taking strength from the ocean swirling around my feet. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter... an uneasiness. "You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from Echidna. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Try me," I retorted, grabbing my swords and falling into the familiar attack/defense position I had first been taught, then drilled into my head until it was second nature.

"Angel," Luke muttered.

"Stay back," I replied softly. "I got this, I promise."

"No direct involvement," Ares drawled, the heat from his eyes melting his sunglasses. "Sorry, sugar. You're not at my level."

"Allie, run!" Luke cried, just as the giant boar charged.

But I was done running from monsters. Or Hades, or Ares, or anybody. As the boar rushed me, I sidestepped and slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at my feet, while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

"Wave!" I shouted.

Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

I turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" I asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares' face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—"

"A dolphin," I suggested scornfully. "Or a seahorse? Yeah, I'm fucking sure. That'd save you from getting your godly ass whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you can go fuck yourself."

Ares sneered and swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

I showed him my swords.

"That's cool, gorgeous," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat morphed into a large, two-handed sword. It was probably the size of me with a hilt shaped like a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Angel," Luke begged. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"He's a coward," I told him, lifting my head determinedly.

He swallowed. "Take this, at least. For luck." With that, he took off his camp necklace and tied it around my neck. He looked like he wanted to do something else, then thought better of it.

"Thanks. I'll win this. Don't worry about me."

"And take this," Grover added. He handed me a flattened tin can that he had probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover... I don't know what to say."

He patted me on the shoulder. I stuffed the tin can in my back pocket.

"Are you all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, honey. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

A smaller ego, I thought in a snarky tone of voice, but I said nothing. I kept my feet in the surf, backing into the water up to my ankles, accepting the strength it gave me.

Ares charged at me and cleaved downward at my head, but I wasn't there.

My body thought for me. The water seemed to push me into the air and I catapulted over him, slashing as I came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again and I was forced to jump onto dry land. I tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what I wanted. He out-maneuvered me, pressing so hard I had to put all my concentration on not getting sliced into pieces. I kept backing away from the surf. I couldn't find any openings to attack. His sword had a reach several feet longer than Riptide and Shaker.

Get in close, Luke had told me once, back in our sword class. When you've got the shorter blade, get in close.

I stepped inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked Riptide out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I recognized the feeling of my ribs breaking, at least four of them, as I went airborne. I flew twenty, maybe thirty feet. I would have broken my back if I hadn't crashed into the soft sand of a dune.

"Allie!" Luke yelled in warning. "Cops!"

I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had just been hit with a battering ram, but I managed to get to my feet.

I couldn't look away from Ares for fear he'd slice me in half, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Is that Allie Jackson? What the heck...?"

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup. We need to get her out of there."

I rolled to one side as Ares' blade slashed the sand. I lunged desperately for my sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares' face, only for my blade to be deflected again.

Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it. Damn him to Tartarus for being a god. Cheaters in every sense of the word.

I stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares smirked. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

My senses were working overtime. I now understood what the others had told me about ADHD keeping you alive in battle. I was wide awake, noticing every little detail.

I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike. At the same time, I was aware of Luke and Grover, thirty feet to my left. I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing.

Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above. And more sirens of course.

I stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped my sleeve and grazed my forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns. Set them on the ground. Now!"

What guns?

When I next looked at Ares's weapon, it seemed to be flickering; sometimes it looked like a shotgun, sometimes the true form of a sword. I didn't know what the mortals were seeing in my hands, but I was pretty sure it wasn't something that'd work in my favor.

Ares turned to glare at our spectators, which gave me a moment to breathe. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on us.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Begone."

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

"You son of a bitch," I hissed at him.

Ares roared with laughter, his sides shaking. "Now, sugar, it's time to add you to this barbecue."

He slashed. I somehow managed to deflect his blade. Then I got close enough to strike and tried to fake him out with a feint, but my blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting me in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after me.

I felt the comforting rhythm of the sea, the waves growing larger as the tide rolled in, and suddenly I had an idea. Little waves, I thought. And the water behind me seemed to recede. I was holding back the tide by sheer force of will, but tension was building, like carbonation behind a cork. And it was hard. I wouldn't be able to hold this for long.

Ares came toward, grinning confidently, as if he had already won the battle. I lowered my blades, as if I were too exhausted to go on. I wasn't quite done yet though.

Wait for it, I instructed the sea. The pressure now was almost lifting me off my feet, I was going through a cycle of getting worn out and being reinvigorated again. Ares raised his sword. That was when I released the tide and jumped, rocketing straight over Ares on a wave. Thank the gods I knew how to surf.

A six-foot wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. I landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward his head, as I'd done before. He turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was too disoriented, and he didn't anticipate the trick. I changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide and Shaker straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heels.

The roar that followed the wound made Hades' earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide.

Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boots. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded. I felt a surge of incredulousness that he was reacting so melodramatically to such tiny wounds. I had most of my ribs broken, risking a lung puncture and I was still fighting. I hadn't even 'umphed'. Ares would never make it as a demigod. Then again, those ribs were healed now because of the water, so I did have that going for me. Still, though. Talk about dramatic.

He limped toward me, muttering ancient Greek curses.

Something stopped him.

It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. I hadn't felt like that in a long, long time.

Then, thank Olympus, the horrible darkness lifted.

Ares looked stunned.

Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Luke and Grover stood on the beach in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he warned me. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blades in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Astraea Jackson. Beware."

"You did that to your own damn self. Don't think challenging someone you can't beat is a good idea." I also think mocking Ares was a good idea, but I was too pissed to think about that.

His body began to glow.

"Allie!" Luke shouted. "Don't watch!"

I turned away as Ares revealed his true immortal form. I somehow knew that if I looked, I would disintegrate into ashes. After what seemed like an eternity, the light died.

When I looked back Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades' bronze helm of darkness. I picked it up and walked toward my friends.

But before I got there, I heard the flapping of leathery wings. The three Furies with lace hats and fiery whips drifted down from the sky and landed in front of me.

The middle Fury, the one who had been Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have me for supper, but had decided I might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So... it truly was not you?"

I tossed her the helmet roughly, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," I instructed her curtly. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war. Also, tell him I told him I wasn't in New York and maybe he should listen to me more often if this is going to be a common occurrence."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Allie Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again..."

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

I joined Grover and Luke, who were staring at me in amazement.

"Allie..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly..."

"Terrifying," said Luke.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

I didn't feel terrified. I certainly didn't feel cool. I was tired and sore and completely drained of energy. Despite that, I managed to give Luke his necklace back and Grover his tin can, which I knew he'd want to eat.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" I asked.

They both nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said hopefully.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing me, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

I looked at Luke, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

I reclaimed the damn backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," I said heavily. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Luke protested, "Unless we—"

"Fly," I finished. Have I ever mentioned just how much I hate my life? In case I haven't, let me do so right now. I really, really hate my life.

He stared flatly at me. "Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do again, lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on, let's go die a fiery, hopefully quick, death."

* * *

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