If there’s one thing Sally Jackson was it was smart. It was prepared. When Poseidon told her that everyone in the Greek world would be hunting her son she set out to make some very powerful friends.
The Greek world was closed to her. Very few people would be willing to put their life on the line for a forbidden child, even if the mother is well meaning. But that wasn’t the only word there was. That wasn’t the only pantheon. There were ones that were older, more powerful, willing and able to watch out for her baby boy if needed.
Sumerian. Celtic. Catholic. Egyptian. The powers at be spanned far and wide and in the years where Percy was away at school and she couldn’t stand being in the same house as the man she married to protect her son she went networking. She made friends. She forged genuine connections with some of the most powerful beings in existence. And she prayed it was enough.
And one day, her son and two other children were at a break in the road. They had run away from a temple of Athena that had failed to protect them. There was a war god standing above them taunting them. They were trapped between people who wanted them dead and people who were dying. Two yards to their left, a corpse lay mangled where there had been a driving accident. Above them stood a beautiful woman with a raven perched on the shoulder of her cloak. Across the road stood a woman whose face looked half dead. And Sally Jackson’s work paid off.
“Enough Ares,” the hooded figure said said. Surprising to the three demigods, the god of war clicked his jaw shut, seemingly frozen in place. The woman turned to look at him, eyes steely and burning, her form contorting as she acknowledged them. Ares looked up in shock.
“This is not of your world,” he said, more respectful than the demigods had ever expected of him. The woman simply raised her eyebrows.
“These children are at my worshiping grounds,” she said, pointing to the words scrawled on the barrier and the corpses laid there. “I am offering them my protection. That includes from you.”
“I stand with her,” the other woman said, walking over and staring the god of war in the eye. “This place is a battleground Ares, you had power here once but it is ours to take. Leave.” The fury burning behind his eyes said everything the demigods needed to know. These women were unknowns but Ares was afraid of them. They’d take that.
“This isn’t over,” he muttered before engaging the bike and speeding off. The woman with the crow tilted her head while looking at him.
“For a man so in love with war he certainly fears death,” she said, turning to her companion. The other simply hummed, leaning down to touch the corpse’s forehead.
“I’m sorry who are you,” Percy said, the initial shot of the encounter wearing off. Hel and the Morrigan smiled at him. He looked a lot like their friend.
“Your mother sent us,” Hel said. “Come, let’s see if we can find you a way west.
