I've been thinking about this since I came up with the idea, can you tell?
The night before, the senior councilors (still only children, a voice that sounded like Father whispered in his mind) handed out the end-of-summer beads. Luke had given Percy his, since he didn’t have a senior councilor.
Maybe he was the senior councilor?
But when he woke up today, there was a form letter on his bedside table. Dionysus must have filled it out, because he still pretended he didn’t know Percy’s name.
Dear ______________Peter Johnson___________________,
If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit.
Camp Director, Olympian Council #12
The deadline had sunk up on him. It hadn’t been real to him before today, and he just hadn’t thought about it. But also… he was busy trying to remember as much of his past life as he could. There was a demigod his age in the Hermes cabin, Clovis, who’d been helping him. Clovis was the son of Hypnos, the other boy had explained after Percy pulled him out of the lake because he fell asleep during a free swim. With his help, Percy had been having dream after dream of being Telemachus.
He still found it hard to believe.
As he left his cabin, Percy found the campgrounds mostly deserted. Everyone was probably packing. Don’t think about leaving yet. Think about training. He left to train.
He apparently wasn’t the first to focus on training because he found Luke in the sword-fighters arena. He trained solo, hacking away at straw-stuffed dummies with a regular steel blade. He loped cloth-sack heads off, disemboweled straw guts, all with an intense expression on his face.
Percy had seen that glare before.
His father’s return had been one of the first memories he’d regained after his quest.
He shook his head. Odysseus had been a descendant of Hermes, he reminded himself. Of course he and Luke would look the same.
Finally, Luke saw him, and stopped mid-swing, about to take another head. “Percy.”
He looked at his feet, shuffling. “Um, sorry,” he said. “I just–”
“No, it’s fine,” Luke said, lowering his sword with a smile. “Just wanted to get in some last minute practice.”
“Those dummies won’t be bothering anybody anymore.”
Luke laughed, running a hand through sweat-slicked hair. “We build new ones every summer.”
Now that he wasn’t slashing and hacking, Percy could finally get a look at Luke’s new sword. It wasn’t pure steel like he’d thought. One side of the blade was bronze, the other steel. Luke noticed him looking at it. “Oh, this? New toy. I call it Backbiter.”
The blade glinted in the sunlight. “One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both.”
Percy’s stomach dropped, remembering what Chiron told him when he started his quest–a hero should never harm mortals unless absolutely necessary. “I didn’t know they could make weapons like that.”
“They probably can’t,” Luke agreed, sliding the sword into its scabbard. “It’s one of a kind.”
Luke gave Percy a tiny smile, fond, and ruffled his hair. Percy swatted his hand away. “Anyway, I was going to come looking for you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight? No hellhounds this time, I promise.”
Percy hesitated. He didn’t know why he did; Luke was his first friend at camp. Ever since Percy had returned from his quest, Luke had been distant, and he was worried the older boy may have resented him. Now there was finally a chance to talk, and he was hesitating?
“You think it’s a good idea?” he asked. “I mean–”
“Aw, come on.” He rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. “Drinks on me.”
Sugar and caffeine. His willpower crumbled.
They walked down to the woods and tried to find a monster or two to fight. It must have been too hot, since not even the dryads were out. Instead, they found a shady spot by the creek where he’d mistaken an invisible Annabeth for her mother. They sat on a big rock, drank their Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods. Percy took off his shoes and put his feet in the water. He sighed as the water rejuvenated him.
Luke was smiling sadly at him. “You always liked the water.”
Percy blinked at the non sequitur. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Most babies hate baths, but you? It was a fight to get you out of water, even when you couldn’t lift up your head. Your mother said it was a sign you were a sailor in your past life, but this wasn’t the life she was hoping for you.”
Luke reached out and brushed Percy’s hair out of his face. “I just wish we could have found you sooner, Telemachus.”
Percy lunged for him. Luke’s arms opened, dropping his Coke, and caught him, hugging him with full strength. For a moment the world made sense. The smell of pine and sweat, the steady strength in Luke’s grip—Percy felt like he’d come home after years lost at sea.
Father. Luke was his father.
“How?” Percy gasped through his tears, burying his face in Luke’s shoulder. “When did you learn? Why didn’t you tell me? Did… Did Mother also…?”
“I knew from the moment you opened your eyes. What father wouldn’t know his own son?” Luke said, pulling back so he could look at Percy. All the little things that Percy thought was just because Luke was a son of Hermes… that was his father. His father had been here the whole time! “As for your mother… I found her years ago. She was reborn as Thalia Grace.”
No. Percy wiped away his tears. “I’m so sorry, Father,” he consoled.
“It’s not your fault. The quest was given to you, after all, and the King likely would have killed you if you didn’t retrieve the Master Bolt.”
…What was Luke talking about?
Luke continued, not noticing Percy’s frown. “I blame myself, mostly. I never would have expected to be reborn as that god’s son, not when you’re so… good. I could have done something if you’d invited me along on your quest, but you didn’t, and it would have been too suspicious if I disappeared from camp to follow after you. But don’t worry! There’s already plans in place for her resurrection. There’s another way. I swear it.”
It was like everything clicked into place. The Oracle’s words echoed in his head.
Percy stepped out of Luke’s arms, back into the creek. “You’re the Lightning Thief.”
Luke frowned, sad he wasn’t hugging him anymore. “Yes.”
“The Oracle warned me: Betrayed by a friend.”
“No! Not you, never you!”
“You set me up! You were trying to raise Kronos! Why?”
“I need his power, Percy! To save Thalia, to defeat our parents!”
“He’s using you to get back at the gods!”
“Good!” Luke snapped, angry twisting his face into something ugly. The harsh sunlight made his hair look gray and cast a deep shade across his scar, making it look deeper and fresh. “They don’t care about us! You, me, Annabeth, any of their children! We’re left to rot in cabins and die in the real world, desperate for any chance that our parents will acknowledge our existence, and for what?
“Do you know what my quest was, Percy? I had to fetch my father a Golden Apple. Out of all the quests I could have received, it was one someone already did. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t make anything better. But we could build something better. You and me. No more pawns. No more discarded kids. Come with me, Telemachus. Stand by my side.”
“No.” Percy didn’t even need to think about his answer. He unsheathed Riptide.
Luke eyed the blade. “Percy… you don’t get it. They—”
“I get it.” Percy’s voice shook, but he held Riptide steady. “You’re pissed about your past life, pissed about your dad, and decided that means you can try to end the world. That doesn’t mean I’ll let you do this. I won’t let you hurt anyone. Not you. Not me. Not anyone else.” Percy knew he wouldn’t win in a fight. But damn it, he had to try.
Like sighed and snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at his feet. Out crawled a glistening black scorpion, about the size of his hand with a stinger as big as a cherry. It stared up at him with beady, black eyes, clamping its pinchers as it crawled up on his bare foot.
“I wouldn’t,” Luke cautioned. “Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes.”
His mouth was dry. “Are you going to kill me, Father?”
“No, never. But if you’re not with me… then I can’t allow you to stop me. Not here, not now.”
The scorpion crawled up to Percy’s knee.
“Don’t listen to Kronos, Luke,” Percy pleaded. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scorpion. “You’re smarter than this. You’re being used–”
“I’m being used?” he threw back his head and laughed, a cruel and harsh sound. “Take a look at what you’ve done, Percy! What has Poseidon ever done for you? You picked him over me, for what? Nothing! Kronos will rise. You’ve only delayed the inevitable.”
“Call off the bug,” Percy said. “If you’re so strong, fight me yourself.”
Luke smirked. “Nice try, Percy, but I never wanted to fight you. I’ve got to go now. If you ever change your mind… Well, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
He slashed Backbiter in an arc and disappeared in a curtain of darkness.
Instinctively, Percy swatted it away. It leapt again at him Percy swung, cutting it in half midair.
Pain flared up his arm like fire. On his hand was a bright red welt, leaking yellow pus and smoking. He stumbled back, falling into the creek.
Water. Water healed him before, right? He submerged his hand, but nothing happened. Was the poison too strong. Head pounding, vision blurry, Percy stumbled back to camp. If he died here… he couldn’t die here!
Percy barely made it to the treeline, legs heavy, when he collapsed into the arms of an emerging nymph. “Help…” he managed past his swollen tongue. “Please…”
He remembered being carried across the field to the Big House when everything went black.
