pocket full of posies
❛ iv. totally not a gift ❜

━━━━━ IT WAS UNDENIABLY bad that Percy Jackson was a son of Poseidon. Josephine feared the ramifications that would soon be pouring down from the sky and crawling from the fissures of the earth. She knew Zeus and Hades were not pleased. She knew what Thalia, a daughter of Zeus, had faced as a result of her father's infidelity. Josephine knew what the daughter of the sky had lived through as Hades nor Poseidon could ever express anger at their brother. Josephine was terrified for Percy and what it meant for him if he ever stepped foot outside of Camp Half-Blood's borders—especially with the things already getting past the camp's magical borders.

               Even more perilous, there was going to be a quest. The first one since Luke Castellan's disastrous quest. And it seemed Percy would be receiving the task of venturing outside of Camp Half-Blood's borders.

               Josephine wasn't supposed to know, but her dreams informed her ( to the best of their capacities, of course, because everything had to be in riddles ). It wasn't the most bizarre dream, that spot was reserved for the time she had a vision of a party at a bar, and the place was set ablaze. These people—even though they really didn't look like people with half-melted faces and bright red burns over their bodies—pleaded with her to warn others. She remembered mentioning it to her father, Beau, who was supposed to be going to a party, and he thought it was weird enough that he stayed home.

               It was one of the few times he had ever listened to her. In the end, a bar burned down later that day; a bar Beau Easton was going to perform in. Lightning had struck the building. Looking back on it, Josephine wasn't sure if Zeus had a vendetta or a poor day that day. Perhaps his toga was in too tight of a twist.

               Josephine was standing on a beach, with a raging storm coming closer and closer to the shore. She had seen this before, quickly being swallowed by the sea before she could do anything. But something about this felt different; more violent, more angry, more resentful. Her heels were dug into the sand, fighting to keep herself on the ground. Her hands were covering her face, fighting to block the sand swirling around her like a tornado.

               This dream only had two men. Two men with long beards and heads full of hair. They both wore flowing Greek tunics, one was trimmed in an orderly blue, and the other was dark, stormy sea green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and even head-butted each other. They were fighting like wild, barbaric animals. Every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind grew even more raucous.

               Josephine crouched down, digging her fingers into the sand around her. She could no longer keep her footing with just her feet. She squinted at the two figures before her.

               "Stop!" she cried out. Her voice was carried uselessly away by the wind.

               Over the roar of the storm, Josephine could hear the blue-robbed one yell to the green-robed one, "Give it back! Give it back! You took it with that blasted son of yours!"

               The waves grew before her eyes. They crashed into the sea bank, and from the force, reached twenty feet over the sand, spraying the three with salty ocean water.

               But nothing around the two fighting men was going to disturb them. They were like squabbling children, fighting over the last slice of cake. But when gods squabbled, everyone knew and suffered the consequences, not just the parents.

               "Stop!" Josephine pleaded. She yelled so loud, loud enough that she had to be heard over the thunderous winds. She wiped the hair plastered to her face out of her way, struggling to keep herself from flying into the air.

               They kept fighting, lightning flashing and waves crashing. The only thing Josephine seemed to wake was a deep voice beneath the earth. The ground shook with deep, mighty laughter. It came from beneath her feet, under the earth. The laughter made her boil chill, a shudder ran up her spine.

               The voice was crooning, "Little hero ... you will fall. Even if I have to make you. In time, of course."

               Then, the sand beneath her feet split without warning. A fissure spread along the beach, engulfing sand down to the center of the earth. Josephine fell on her back, digging her fingers into the sand around her. She tried to climb away from the crevice but she was too trapped in the sand around her.

               Josephine woke with a start. The sound of her breathing was the only thing in Cabin Seven. The sun was starting to rise, she could see the pink rays peaking past the white blinds Michael had put up. But the pink rays were dampened by a real storm brewing; Josephine hadn't just dreamt that. Part of her wished that was the only thing from her dreams that would come true.

               She sat up, avoiding hitting her head on the bed above her; she heard Kayla grunt in response, mumbling something about rabbits. Josephine kicked off her blanket embroidered with yellow suns and lyres.

               Give it back, the one robed in blue demanded. He said it like something had been stolen.

               Something stolen, Josephine shivered. For months, she had been hearing whispers in her dreams, ever since the winter solstice. Things that didn't make sense then, something she almost chalked up to just her paranoia and insecurities, but was starting to make sense.

               The rest of the cabin was starting to stir. Lee sat in his bed, pushing back his fringe of blond hair.

               "You good?" he asked her.

               "Fine."

               No, you're not, that cruel voice—it was starting to sound too much like her own—said. No one like you is fine. You know this. Foresight is not a gift, it is a curse. A plague.

               Josephine dug underneath her bunk, pulling out her shoes. "I just need to talk to Chiron, Lee. That's all."

✿

Josephine hugged herself for warmth, finding it impossible to find any with the wind. Her sleeping shorts and shirt weren't providing any heat for her either. She tucked her hands underneath her arms as she hurried across Camp Half-Blood's grounds.

               She knocked on the door to Chiron's office rapidly before coming inside. "Chiron," she said, "I need to, um, tell you something."

               The centaur looked up at her, in the middle of fixing a stack of reports on his oak desk. "Yes, Josephine?"

               "I need to tell you something," she insisted, walking further inside.

               She hadn't been inside his office much, most times kids were in there when they were getting in trouble. The office has a record player and a full-screen TV ( where they would show new campers the orientation film; Josephine was very lucky to avoid watching that ). There was also a computer and a boom box with taps of music that could scare even the dead. The entire room had a bronze shield due to the fact that "technology and demigods do not mix". Or at least that was the explanation Josephine had received when she asked.

               "What do you need to tell me?" asked Chiron, motioning for her to sit in the chair in front of him.

               Josephine sat down quickly, thumbing the edges of her shorts. "You know I struggle to do a lot of the things Apollo is the god of." She glanced up at Chiron, who was watching her closely. "And that I—I like to keep to myself a lot." Chiron hummed in understanding; she just needed to rip the bandaid off, there was no other way of doing it.

               "Well, I think I have the gift of foresight," she said quickly, wiping her hands on her shorts. "I don't think it's exactly a gift, but—"

               "Apollo has informed me of this, as well," Chiron said plainly. "He knows that you struggle in archery and such, but he has told me of what he believes you have, ah, inherited from him."

               Josephine stared. "He's talked to you? About me?"

               "Not too long after you were claimed." Chiron nodded. "As a favor for teaching me, Apollo wanted me to keep a close eye on you."

               She felt sick. Betrayed. Angry. Upset. All the horrible feelings she wanted to wretch out of her body that instant. Never had once Apollo acknowledged her beyond claiming her, and then he had the gale to ask Chrion to watch her? He talked to Chiron about something she had never told a soul, not in her two years at Camp, and Apollo told. He knew that she was struggling under the weight of foresight, and he never helped her—not once.

               That meant the god must've known all the times she cried about her nightmares, silently praying to him for answers. Why her? Why this? Why now?

               Why her?

               Why did it have to be her, Josephine Easton, that struggled? Why did it have to be her that felt like she was drowning under the weight of foresight? Why did it have to be her that to be oh-so-horribly different than her siblings?

               He must've heard every single prayer, every single question, every single offering to him, and Apollo never once answered anything. But he talked to Chiron. That must count for something, right?

               She wanted to scream. At her fathers, at Chiron, at every single god that let their children suffer the way Apollo let Josephine struggle.

               "He told you," Josephine said, her voice steady but her emotions anything but calm. "And you've just been sitting with this information for two years? You were never going to tell me you knew? You were going to let me suffer for however long I have left to live?"

               Chiron sighed. "Apollo told me I had to wait until you told me. I wanted to talk to you as soon as he spoke to me, but your father insisted. He said it was what needed to be done, that it was fate. I'm sure you know what happens to people who fight against fate does."

               Josephine shivered. Sure, she did. She had seen countless people try and do the impossible in her dreams, and it always ended horribly. It always ended in madness and death.

               "What made you want to tell me about this now, Josephine?" Chiron asked.

               She looked off, shrugging. "I've been having dreams more and more since the winter solstice, and then they seriously ramped up when Percy got here. My last one ... I think I was dreaming of Zeus and Poseidon fighting. But not about Percy being Poseidon's son, but about giving something back—like it was stolen." She looked to Chiron. "I've been hearing whispers about something being stolen since the solstice."

               Chiron watched her grimly. "Yes, something has been stolen."

               "What's been stolen?" Josephine asked.

               "I think it's better if we wait to tell you. Percy is being summoned here later this morning." He looked at the clock on his wall. "Not too long, actually. Grover will bring him here. I will tell Grover to get you from Cabin Seven when it is time."

               "I'll stay here," Josephine offered. "I mean, that dream is, like, just a coincidence, is it? It can't be—"

               The centaur's eyes crinkled as he started to smile. "Miss Easton, you are wearing your sleeping clothes. I suggest you go and get changed and go about your regular day. I will tell Grover to get you when it is time for Percy to be informed."

               "Percy's going to be offered a quest, isn't he?" she asked, starting to stand up.

               "Mr. D is offering another option for Percy," Chiron said.

               "What? Getting turned into an animal?" Josephine rolled her eyes. "That's what he threatens everyone with."

               "This time he's saying he could have Mr. Jackson's molecules erupt in flames," said Chiron. "But, Mr. Jackson is needed alive to go on a quest."

               This might be a way to fix all her nightmares. If Percy finds whatever was stolen ( Josephine has some idea what was stolen ), this might set the gods and their shitty moods. It might fix her mind and set all her dreams right. It might just ease the burden of the inheritance Apollo had been so kind to bestow her.

✿

Josephine hated waiting. It was nearly worse than getting spontaneously attacked by vicious, blood-thirsty monsters.

               It had been a few days since Percy was claimed, and in those days things at Camp seemed to be steadily becoming more alarming. Percy moved into Cabin Three, Poseidon's cabin, and had essentially gone radio silent with Josephine. But everyone else had gone radio silent with Percy; no one talked to him unless they had to. Luke and Percy started having one-on-one sword lessons, Annabeth still gave him Ancient Greek lessons, and Josephine only ever talked to Percy when Cabin Eleven and Cabin Seven would pass going and leaving archery practice.

               The few people that talked to Percy face-to-face were nothing to the number of people that talked about him. Granted, there was a lot to talk about; the Minotaur attack, the bathroom incident, the hellhound, and more so than any other reason, who Percy's father was.

               Through it all, Josephine felt pity for him. Pity and a lot of dread for Percy's safety.

               Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming for Camp Half-Blood. Josephine watched it nervously before looking to the edge of the row of cabins. She was still looking for any sign of Grover, looking to see if she could head to the Big House soon.

               And soon, she got a glimpse of Grover Underwood. A tall satyr with extremely curly black hair and dark skin that was covered in acne with a wispy beard on his chin. He had wide, dark brown eyes with heavy eyebags underneath them. For once, since he didn't have to hide his less human attributes, Josephine could see his small, wimpy horns sprouting out of his head, and his brown goat legs.

               She stood up, brushing off the back of her thighs as Grover nodded to her. She stopped, shoulder to shoulder with the satyr as he headed for Cabin Three. "Mr. D's not mad enough he kill Percy, right?" she asked.

               Somehow, Grover's face dropped even more. "I don't know," he admitted, but the way his voice was titled at the end only made Josephine more nervous. "Chiron's pretty adamant that Percy will take the quest."

               "Annabeth's already offered to go?" asked Josephine.

               Grover tried to smile. "As soon as she heard the word quest."

               No surprise, of course. Josephine knew Annabeth would jump at the chance to leave camp and please her mother at the same time. It seemed to be Annabeth's very greatest goal. Josephine understood, of course, to do anything that would please the parent that did so little to show any sort of affection.

               After all, Josephine did the same thing. She wanted nothing more than to become something Apollo would be proud to talk about. Instead, she was just something Apollo warned Chiron about.

               At the volleyball pit, Josephine caught a glimpse of her brothers playing a not-so-friendly game with some kids of the Ares Cabin. Pollux and Castor Winward were walking around the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. It seemed everybody was going about a normal schedule, like it was a normal day, but they all looked tense. All eyes were on the massive, murky storm on the horizon.

               Josephine made her way up the stairs to the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in a well-cut, silk maroon shirt. He had on loose, black, dress pants, and spotless black shoes. With one long leg crossed over the other, he gave the daughter of Apollo an icy stare.

               She gave him a smile. "You've dressed nicely."

               "'Course I have. I'm a god." The God of Wine was short with her. "Would you like to play?" He held out the back of his cards to her, obviously not letting her see the cards he had pulled for that play.

               The daughter of prophecy looked at Chiron from the corner of her eye. The centaur sat across the table from the god in his fake wheelchair. He sighed quietly, looking down at his personal set of cards. She then looked at the other two floating sets of cards; the god and centaur had two invisible opponents.

               "Um, sure, Mr. D," Josephine said tentatively.

               Mr. D nodded, shuffling his cards. Josephine sat in one of the open chairs, grabbing the set of cards floating in front of her. She looked through them, deciding which card to play the next round with.

               "Well, well," Mr. D said scathingly, causing Josephine to look up. "Our little celebrity."

               Percy and Grover were walking across the front porch of the Big House. Josephine caught Percy's eyes and sent him a smile.

               The son of Poseidon slowed down as he got closer to the three at the table.

               "Come closer," said Mr. D. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

               A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house. Josephine took a deep breath, side-eyeing the god to her right.

               "Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said, waving his hand.

               Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. Josephine shuffled her cards nervously.

               "If I had my way," said the God of Wine, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at the cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

               "Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron reminded the god.

               "Nonsense," said Dionysus. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

               "Mr. D—" Chiron warned.

               "Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." The god rose, and the invisible player's cards dropped to the table."I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

               The God of Madness picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A clean-cut security pass.

               He snapped his fingers.

               The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a holograph, then a gust of wind, and then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering in his wake.

               Chiron smiled at Percy, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. And Grover."

               Percy sat opposite of Josephine as Grover sat where Dionysus once was. Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't got the chance to use. Josephine laid her set on the table, resting her hands on her lap.

               "Tell me, Percy," said the centaur. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

               Percy was staring down at the four sets of cards. His eyebrows were knitted together. "It scared me," he admitted. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

               "You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done."

               Josephine looked at the centaur quickly. If the teacher's end goal was to scare Percy enough that the son of Poseidon wouldn't take the quest, it was going to work.

               "Done ... with what?" Percy asked quietly.

               "Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?"

               Percy glanced at Grover and Josephine; the satyr had his fingers crossed but the daughter of Apollo wasn't reacting in any sort of outward manner.

               "Um, sir," the son of Poseidon started, "you haven't told me what it is yet."

               Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part—the details."

               Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as Josephine could see, the sky and sea were boiling together.

               "Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said, turning back to the people before him. "They're fighting over something valuable ... something that was stolen, aren't they?"

               Josephine exchanged a look with Chiron.

               The centaur sat forward in his wheelchair. "How do you know this?"

               The tips of Percy's ears grew a violent shade of red. "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Josephine and Annabeth, and they said they overheard something about a theft. And ... I've also been having these dreams."

               "I knew it," Grover murmured.

               Josephine sat forward. "Dreams?" she repeated. "What kind of—?"

               "Hush, Miss Easton," Chiron ordered.

               "But, Chiron!" she protested. "That means it is his quest! Just like I told you."

               "Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

               Percy laughed nervously. "A what?"

               "Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

               "Oh." Percy's voice was meek.

               "Zeus's master bolt," said Chiron. He seemed to be growing restless in his wheelchair. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

               "And it's missing?" asked Percy.

               "Stolen," corrected Chiron.

               "By who?"

               "By whom," Chiron corrected once more. "By you."

               Percy's mouth fell open.

               "At least" —Chiron held up a hand— "that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

               Percy started to protest, "But I didn't—"

               "Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You are in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief."

               "But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

               Nervously, Josephine looked to the sky at the shores of Camp Half-Blood. The clouds didn't seem to be parting around them, as they always had before. They were rolling straight over the valley around them, sealing them in like a coffin lid.

               "Er, Percy?" she spoke up. "We don't insult the gods—especially, Zeus, or any of the twelve Olympians in general."

               "Perhaps, paranoid would be a better choice of words," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam ..." He looked at Percy expectantly. Josephine assumed it was some question Chiron had given Percy and his class before Percy ever learned of his heritage.

               However, Percy was staring at the centaur incredulously. "Something about a golden net?" he asked. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods ... they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?"

               "Correct." Chiron nodded. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along—the proverbial last straw."

               "But I'm just a kid!"

               "Percy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you ... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

               "But I didn't do anything. Poseidon—my dad—he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?"

               Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the sea god is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Percy?"

               "Bad?" Percy guessed meekly.

               "More of a horrendous," Josephine offered.

               "Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight."

               Percy paled. "Horrendous."

               "And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

               It started to rain. The players on the volleyball field stopped mid-game and stared up at the sky in stunned silence. Percy was staring at the heavy rain with a pallid face.

               "So I have to find this stupid bolt," he said. "And return it to Zeus."

               "I wouldn't call it stupid," Josephine muttered under her breath.

               "What better peace offering," said Chiron, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?"

               "If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?"

               "I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago ... well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

               "Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?"

               "Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

               Percy licked his lips. "Good reason."

               "You agree, then?" Chiron raised his bushy eyebrows.

               Josephine gave Percy an optimistic smile. Grover was nodding at him encouragingly.

               "All right," Percy said, sliding his chair away from the table. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

               "Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

               Josephine watched him walk away with a heavy feeling growing in the bottom of her stomach. She knew with no doubt that Percy would receive a prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi. Granted, she wasn't sure how encouraged she was in that regard, considering what the Oracle of Delphi was like. She feared what the Oracle would say to Percy. Prophecies never foretold good things because where was the joy in that?

               She picked at the skin around her fingernails. Josephine was unsure what to do with herself. Chiron was picking up the stack of cards, tapping them on the table, reordering them, and then, repeating the process. Grover was chewing on his fingernails, his hooves clopping loudly against the wood beneath their feet.

               Nevertheless, Josephine survived the ten minutes it took for Percy to receive the prophecy. Grover had picked up the empty Diet Coke can Mr. D had left behind, chewing his way through it with ease.

               Chiron looked at Percy expectantly. "Well?" he asked.

               Percy slumped into a chair at the pinochle table, his face white as a ghost. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen," he said slowly.

               Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on his last bite of the aluminum can. "That's great!"

               "What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "That is important."

               "She ..." Percy took a shaky breath, "she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

               "I knew it!" Grover grinned.

               "Anything else?" Chiron asked.

               Percy licked his lips. "Something about one looking for wanted answers and meeting an enemy turned."

               Josephine shivered. Answers, that cruel voice rang in her head. Answers, don't you want them?

               "And ..." Chiron prompted.

               Percy's jaw grew tense. "She—the Oracle—said something about four going and ... I thought ... Well, I know there's something special about numbers ..."

               "Three and seven," Josephine said quickly, pushing out that cruel voice. "Those numbers are considered lucky in—"

               "Hush, my child," said Chiron, holding his hand out to the daughter of Apollo. He looked at Percy, asking, "Anything else?"

               Somehow, if it was even possible, Percy paled even more. "No," he said just a little too quickly. "That's about it."

               Chiron studied Percy's face. "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

               Josephine sat back in her seat, sinking slightly. She knew that the last comment had to be for her, as well. Dreams and foresight can always seem to tell you one thing and then it turns out to be something completely else.

               "Okay." Percy sounded anxious. "So, where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

               "Ah, think Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?"

               "Somebody else who wants to take over?" Percy guessed.

               "Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

               Goosebumps grew along Josephine's arms. She rubbed her right arm slowly, looking at the table. She thought about the dream, about the voice and the ground swallowing her whole. Maybe there was more than what met the eye.

               "Hades." Percy curled his lip.

               Josephine spoke up, "I'm not sure ... I mean, sure he doesn't like Zeus or Poseidon—or any of their kids—but he's never been outright ... confrontational?"

               However, Chiron seemed to agree with Percy, "Who else, Miss Easton? The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

               Josephine didn't have an answer for him. Her knowledge of Greek mythology was extensive, but it had its limits, and trying to find a god who would dare challenge both Zeus and Poseidon was one of those limits.

               A scrap of aluminum fell from Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. What?" he squeaked.

               "A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded the satyr. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

               "Yes, but—but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon ..."

               "A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest."

               "Great," Percy muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me."

               "But a quest to ..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

               "Grover, be serious!" Josephine hissed. "The prophecy said west, is Maine west of here?"

               "Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

               Grover was trembling. He started eating the pinochle cards like they were potato chips.

               She regarded the satyr. Josephine knew of Grover's situation. He was on his last hoof. Grover had gotten in trouble with the Cloven Elders. Percy was his last chance of getting his searcher's license, which would allow him to look for Pan, and hopefully be the first satyr to ever succeed.

               Percy was silent for a moment, snapping back to reality to say, "Look, if we know it's Hades, why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

               "Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

               "You're saying I'm being used."

               Josephine raised her eyebrows. Percy wasn't wrong. That was the very things gods were greatest at, besides becoming jealous and scorned when any mortal dared to test them, of course. The gods were great at only talking to their children when they needed something done.

               "I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now," said Chiron. "It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you."

               Percy looked at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

               "I have my suspicions. As I said ... I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

               "So, let me get this straight," Percy said, sitting up straighter in his seat. "I'm supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

               "Check," Chiron said.

               "Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

               "Check."

               "And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

               "That's about right."

               Josephine looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts.

               "Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" the satyr asked weakly.

               Even with the grim atmosphere, Josephine started to smile at the satyr's antics.

               "You don't have to go," Percy told him. "I can't ask that of you."

               "Oh ..." Grover shifted his hooves. "No ... it's just that satyrs and the underground places ... well ..."

               He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You saved my life, Percy. If ... if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down."

               A grateful smile made its way onto Percy's face. "All the way, G-man." He turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west."

               "The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

               "Where?"

               Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

               "Oh," said Percy. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane—"

               "No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

               The son of Poseidon shook his head, an embarrassed blush creeping along his neck.

               "Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

               Josephine flinched when lightning crackled loudly overhead. She licked her lips as thunder boomed and rolled along the ground.

               "Okay," Percy said. His eyes stayed glued to the three before him. "So, I'll travel overland."

               "That's right," Chiron said. "Three companions may accompany you. Grover is one. Josephine" —the centaur nodded at her— "would be a wise second choice. And you have a third volunteer, as well, if you will accept the two's help."

               "Gee," said Percy with mocking surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"

               The air shimmered behind Chiron.

               Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap in her back pocket.

               "I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Percy," she said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up. And where Josephine goes, I go."

               Josephine gave the daughter of Athena a bewildered look. They weren't close, like, at all. Especially not close enough for Annabeth to make a comment like that. Josephine would barely even consider her and Annabeth friends.

               Percy looked at Josephine. "Why would you volunteer for a quest like this, then?"

               "I didn't," she insisted, looking at Chiron. "I didn't offer to go."

               "But you've had a dream of Zeus and Poseidon fighting," Chiron said calmly. "It isn't a coincidence, you don't think?"

               Josephine scowled at him. Using her own words against him. "But—"

               "Dreams are a vital tool," said Chiron. "Vital to help you in the future. You wouldn't receive a dream like that if it wasn't for a reason. I think it is very likely you have a role to play in this prophecy."

               Josephine wanted to scream. She didn't want to go on this quest; she shouldn't be going on this quest.

               Percy frowned at her. "Well, Posie? Going or not?"

               Josephine narrowed her eyes. "It doesn't look like I have much of a choice."

               Annabeth gritted her teeth. "Do you want our help or not?"

               Percy didn't make another sarcastic retort. "A group of four—just like the ..." he said. "That'll work."

               "Excellent," said Chiron. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

               "Great ..." Josephine mumbled quietly. "But no pressure."

               Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have such violent weather.

               "No time to waste," said Chiron. "I think you should all get packing."

✿  JUNE 17TH, 2023  /  double update slayy

also not edited so typos i'm sure- sorry lol

also, yeah, posie's drives are weird i do agree and her relationship with apollo is also not ever going to be great so she will have different things that keep her pushing

and a sneak peek as posie's part of the prophecy- you'll have to look for it to really find it

anyways,, thoughts? opinions??