pocket full of posies
❛ xv. summer insights ❜

━━━━━ IT BOGGLED JOSEPHINE'S mind how easily the mortals warped the truth to fit in the confines of what they could feasibly understand.

              According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

              This crazy kidnapper ( a.k.a. Ares ) was the same man who had abducted Percy, the nameless girl from the St. Louis Arch ( a.k.a. Josephine ), and two other adolescents in New York and brought them across the country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.

              Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal, after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor ( and afterwards, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus—"Why didn't I remember him before?" ) The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kids could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, had gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson ( this kid wasn't sounding too bad anymore ) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his three friends were safely in police custody.

              The reporters fed them this whole story. The questers just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted ( which wasn't hard ), and played like victimized kids for the cameras.

              "All I want," Percy said, choking back his tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew ... somehow ... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number." The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for four tickets on the next plane to New York.

              They had no other choice but to fly. Josephine only hoped that Zeus would cut Percy some slack—especially considering the circumstances. But Josephine still had to drag Percy onto the plane before it left without him.

              Takeoff was a nightmare. Percy's panicked state made Josephine's panicked state even worse than it normally was. With every spot of turbulence, he would grab her arm tightly, digging his nails into her flesh. ( "Percy, that hurts," she whispered to him. "What's gonna hurt worse if Zeus strikes us down," he hissed back. "We won't even know if he does," she countered. "We'll be dead before we feel the pain." ) He didn't fully let go of her arm until they touched down safely in La Guardia. The local press was waiting for them outside security, but they managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!", then rejoined the three at baggage claim.

              The four split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Josephine, Annabeth, and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened.

              The daughter of Apollo shook her head. "I'm going with you."

              "Posie." Percy sighed. "If things go bad, you three can get out alive. I have to do this by myself."

              "Things are definitely with your track record with gods," Josephine countered, "which is why I should go. Try and meditate or something." She turned to Annabeth and Grover. "You guys go, tell Chiron everything. Me and Percy will do our best to not be blown into smithereens by Zeus."

              "You're really instilling them with confidence, Posie," Percy grumbled.

              She glared, but didn't correct the nickname.

              Grover and Annabeth protested, and so did Percy ( who was still trying to convince Josephine to just head back to Camp with the others ). Josephine had to admit, it was hard to split up after all they had been through. She never thought she'd say that about anyone besides her siblings.

              Josephine never thought she would be able to be around people and not consistently worry if she was going to mess up. And surely, she still had those worries, but they were few and far in between with Percy, Annabeth, and Grover. They made her see past her own worries and the world around her. Even Onesimus with his constant insults and nagging.

              We both know why you want to go up to Olympus with Percy, he told her. Josephine could practically see the disgust on his face. You want to rip Apollo a new one.

              No, that's not it! she denied.

              Onesimus was right, but Josephine would never admit that.

              She pulled Percy over to a taxi, and the stubborn boy stopped her from getting inside. "Just so you know, I'm letting you go with me."

              Josephine rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, Seaweed Brain. I'll let you think that."

              She practically pushed him out of the way and jumped inside the taxi. With no other choice, Percy got inside after her, and the two headed to Manhattan.

              Thirty minutes later, she and Percy walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.

              Josephine cringed as she realized that she and Percy must look like homeless kids, with their tattered clothes and scraped face. She hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours.

              They went up to the guard at the front desk and Percy said, "Six hundredth floor."

              "Please," Josephine added, and Percy rolled his eyes.

              The man was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. Harry Potter, Josephine was pretty sure, but she had no idea which book it was. "No such floor, kiddos."

              Josephine frowned. "We need to talk to Zeus. Er—Percy needs to talk to Zeus."

              The man gave them a vacant smile. "Sorry?"

              "I know you heard me." She frowned.

              The guy wasn't having a good day or something as he said, "No appointment, no audience, kiddos. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."

              Josephine hit Percy in the shoulder and motioned to the backpack slung on his shoulder. He nodded in understanding.

              "Oh, I think he'll make an exception." Percy slipped off the backpack and unzipped the top.

              The guard looked inside at the metal cylinder, not getting what it was for a few seconds. Then his face went pale. "That isn't ..."

              "Yes, it is," the son of Poseidon promised. "You want me take it out and—"

              "No! No!" The guard scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, then handed it to Percy. "Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."

              Percy did as told. As soon as the elevator doors closed, he slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared and a new button appeared on the console, a red one that said 600.

              He pressed it and waited, and waited.

              Muzak played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head ..."

              "If things go south, I'll start talking," Josephine said.

              The son of Poseidon glanced at her. "If things go south, you get the hell out."

              Josephine rolled her eyes. She was starting to see Percy's affliction in always being the hero.

              "You didn't want to go with me because you thought I'd need help dealing with Zeus, did you?" Percy prompted, as if reading her mind.

              She glanced at him, deciding it better not to keep any more lies than she already had. "Maybe I want to try and find Apollo."

              He gave her a sad look. "I'll be able to handle my own. Go and find Apollo. Maybe don't fight him, though."

              Josephine gave him a dry smile. "I'll try not to. I'll go with you to talk with Zeus, and if we pass by Apollo, I'll talk to him."

              But she didn't exactly sound pleased at the idea of talking to Apollo. Seemed odd considering that was the driving force of making her come to Olympus.

              Getting cold feet? Onesimus asked.

              Don't start now, she hissed back.

              Ding. The doors slid open, and they stepped out. As every time before, Josephine's breath hitched in her throat at the sight of Olympus.

              She and Percy were standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below them was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of them, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky.

              Olympus. Onesimus's tone was sarcastic. So lovely.

              Stop being miserable, Josephine quipped back.

              From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces—a city of mansions—all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rose bushes. Josephine could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome, and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, clean, and colorful, the way Athens must've looked twenty-five hundred years ago.

              Their walk through Olympus was a daze. They passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at them from their garden. Hawkers in the market offered to sell them ambrosia-on-a-stick, a new shield, and a genuine glitter-weave replica of the Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV. The nine Muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered—satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who might've been minor gods and goddesses.

              One of the Muses glanced up, her doe eyes locking on Josephine, as if she just knew the daughter of Apollo was there. If Josephine didn't know any better, she saw a look of certain sympathy on the Muses' face, but when she blinked, the Muses' attention was one hundred percent focused on her lyre.

              I'd be wary of the Muses, Josephine, Onesimus warned. Known for their tragedy—especially that one.

              Melpomene? she asked.

              Onesimus humed in response.

              Shouldn't I be wary of you, then? she countered in the form of a question. A voice that isn't my own in my head telling me things? Isn't that scary?

              Oh, but I am here for your benefit, Onesimus said. I am here to be useful to you. Not here just to play music about tragedies and scare half-bloods when I make eye contact with them.

              Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war. In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch Josephine and Percy pass, and whispering to themselves.

              They climbed the main road, towards the big palace at the peak. It was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld. There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver.

              Josephine realized Hades must've built his palace to resemble this one. He wasn't welcomed in Olympus except on winter solstice, so he'd built his own Olympus underground. Despite his cruelness and callous attitude, Josephine felt sorry for the god. To be banished from this place so easily and tossed aside ( especially when you hadn't done anything wrong besides being the God of Death )—it would make anybody bitter.

              Calling Hades bitter is putting it lightly, Onesimus added helpfully.

              You act like you know him personally, Josephine responded.

              I know of him, of course, Onesimus said quickly. God of Death, anybody would know of him.

              Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

              Well—room really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom closet. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.

              Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left.

              Josephine didn't need to be told who the two gods sitting in the throne room were, waiting for Percy and her to approach. The two walked towards them, and Josephine hoped she didn't look as sick with nerves as she felt. She had never talked to Zeus nor Poseidon, let alone with the master bolt in a backpack on Percy's back.

              The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been, but Josephine could barely look at them without feeling a tingle, as if her body were starting to burn. Zeus, the Lord of the Gods, wore a dark blue, pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled grey and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim all at the same time, and his eyes were a rainy grey. As she and Percy got closer to him, the air crackled and smelled of ozone.

              The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He reminded Josephine of a beachcomber from Key West. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was jet black, like Percy's. His face had that same brooding look that had Percy branded a rebel. But his eyes—sea-green—were surrounded by sun crinkles that told the girl he smiled a lot, too.

              His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

              The gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument.

              Taking a deep breath to stop from retching, Josephine knelt at Zeus's throne. Her fingers were clenched tightly, fingernails digging into her palms. Vaguely, she could feel the burn from the ouroboros ring on her right ring finger.

              "Lord Zeus," she said. ( Silently, she thanked any gods listening for not letting her voice cracking with fear, and Onesimus proudly said, Well, thank you, Posie! )

              Percy approached the fisherman's throne and knelt at his feet. "Father."

              Josephine's heart lurched. One wrong move; one wrong word; one wrong word; Zeus wouldn't hesitate to blast them into smithereens.

              In front of her, Zeus's voice rumbled like thunder as he said, "At least the girl has the sense to address the master of the house first."

              "Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. His voice was just as deep as Zeus's, but warmer and didn't roll across the room like thunder. "The boy defers to his father. This is only right."

              "You still claim him then?" Zeus asked menacingly. "You claim this child whom you sired against our sacred oath?"

              "I have admitted my wrongdoing," Poseidon said. "Now I would hear him speak."

              Josephine glanced over to Percy, her dark eyes filled with sympathy. For two years, she had felt the nasty sting of feeling like a mistake of Apollo's, but never outright had she ever been called one; called a wrongdoing. She couldn't image what that was like, your own father calling you that to your face.

              Percy's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he eyes didn't wave from the bottom of Poseidon's throne.

              "I have spared him once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain ... Bah! I should have blasted him out of the sky for his impudence."

              "And risk destroying your own master bolt?" Poseidon countered. "Let us hear him out, brother."

              Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast this boy down from Olympus."

              "Perseus," Poseidon said. "Look at me."

              From the corner of her eye, Josephine watched as Percy did just that. The father and son just looked at each other, and Josephine could only image what was going through Percy's mind.

              "Address Lord Zeus, boy," Poseidon told his son. "Tell him your story."

              So Percy told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. He took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky God's presence, and laid it at his feet.

              There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

              Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a fifteen-foot-long javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on Josephine's arms rise.

              "I sense the boy tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing ... it is most unlike him."

              "He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon pointed out, sounding too eager to say it. "It runs in the family."

              "Lord?" Josephine spoke up, swallowing nervously as Onesimus snickered at Poseidon's statement.

              They both said, "Yes?"

              "When we talked to Ares, it sounded like he wasn't working alone. He talked about dreams, too. I think someone else—or something else—came up with the idea. Percy," she grabbed his arm, "tell them about the dreams you had—about that voice."

              He didn't look enthralled to do it, but Percy described the dreams, and the feeling he'd had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world and made Ares back off from killing him.

              "In the dreams," he said, "the voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. Like what Posie—Josephine said. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

              "You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked, frowning.

              "No," Percy said. "I mean, Lord Zeus, I've been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit. That was the entrance to Tartarus, wasn't it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there ... something even older than the gods."

              Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. Talking so quick, Josephine only caught one word: father.

              Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. The God of the Seas tried to argue but Zeus held up his hand angrily.

              "We will speak of this no more," the Lord of the Skys said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."

              He rose and looked at Percy. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

              "I had help, sir," Percy said. "Josephine Easton, Grover Underwood, and Annabeth Chase—"

              "To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

              "Um ..." Percy glanced at Josephine, who nodded quickly. "Thank you, sir."

              "Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise, you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation."

              Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.

              Josephine and Percy stood in the throne room with Poseidon. Feeling the tension, she squeezed Percy's arm briefly and said, "I'll go, then. Let you two talk."

              And go find Apollo, was the remains of her statement.

              She escaped the throne room before either father or son could say anything. She walked down the marble steps of the throne room two at a time until she reached the bottom. Unknowing of what to do and how to find Apollo, Josephine retraced her steps, following the sound of music. Surely he would be near the music, he was the God of Music after all.

              She didn't find him with the Muses. She didn't find him in the plenty of gardens she passed by. She didn't find him with the hawkers hounding her to buy ambrosia-on-a-stick—

              Scratch that—Apollo found her being hounded by the hawkers.

              "Here." The god tossed the hawker a drachma, the coin glinting across his dazzling smile. "Two ambrosias-on-a-stick."

              "I need two drach—"

              Apollo looked at the hawker. "Two ambrosias-on-a-stick," he repeated, his voice not-so-warm anymore.

              Josephine nibbled on her ambrosia-on-a-stick, tasting the sweet taste of Mrs. Hall's famous chocolate cake she made for special occasions. Her fingers twitched anxiously as Apollo finished his own. For two painstakingly-long years, all she wanted was to meet and talk to Apollo, and she finally got her wish, but all words had escaped her—all words, she truly meant it. All the questions, demands, and cries she had for him all gone.

              And what's even worse was the fact they were just sitting on the side of Olympus's street, on a hard marble bench. Apollo's fingers tapped on his thigh at a tempo where he could whistle a heptatonic scale perfectly.

              "Do you know what scale that was?" he asked casually.

              Josephine choked down her bite of ambrosia. "C major." It sounded more like a guess than an answer.

              Apollo smiled at her, patting her on the back. "Lessons with Michael are paying off, you see?"

              "But they're not fun," she grumbled.

              "Fun, informative." The God of the Sun shrugged. "What matters is you know when your lyre's sharp or flat and how to tune it."

              "I suck at playing the lyre," she said flatly.

              Apollo made a face. "Well ..."

              "No, don't lie about it," she said. "I know you talked to Chiron about me. About the dreams and the foresight ..."

              The god sighed, brushing back some of his sandy blonde hair. His eyes glinted like gold coins in the sun beating down on them. "It is a tough power to possess," he admitted. "And I wished it hadn't been you, or any of your siblings. When a child of mine is born with a gift of foresight, that's always a sign ..." He stopped, frowning at the road.

              "It's a sign for what?" Josephine prodded.

              "That we need to become ready for something." Apollo looked at her. "And the gift of foresight is supposed to help with that."

              "It didn't feel helpful," she disagreed, shaking her head. "I get these terrifying dreams of my childhood home and this—voice telling me that I'm going to fall. In time, he would tell me. And then this voice—a different voice—started talking in my head. He keeps telling me things—"

              "A voice in your head?" Apollo asked.

              Josephine nodded.

              He stared at her for a moment, the sun carving out his features. "Dreams and premonition is the gift of foresight, Josephine, not a voice. That—What is the voice telling you?"

              "At—at first, the voice just kept beating me down; telling me I was a burden, and unlucky, and other horrible stuff; but then the voice—he told me to call him Onesimus—changed and said he would help me get answers. He stopped being so mean. I don't think he's connected to the man who's telling me I was going to fall in time. I mean, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but it's a gut feeling—"

              "Onesimus?" Apollo muttered to himself.

              "Does that mean something?" Josephine looked at her father closer.

              The blond straightened. "No." But he didn't sound too sure himself. "Be careful with that voice. And tell Chiron, too. He will help you when I can't."

              When have you ever, Onesimus muttered bitterly. Tell him that I'm not something to be worried about, Josephine!

              She ignored Onesimus and said, "Why? Why do I need to tell Chiron?"

              Apollo swallowed. "Because I am not so sure what Onesimus means myself."

              Oh. Great.

              Josephine took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. Answers; that's what she was desperately after. Well—that and giving Apollo a piece of her mind.

              "Onesimus kept promising me answers," she said passingly, trying to keep her voice steady. "And he kept making it seem like the Underworld would give me some, but the only thing I got was this." She held out her hand, letting Apollo see the black marble ring carved to look like the ouroboros.

              The god sighed. "I hate snakes."

              "Yeah, me too," she agreed, frowning. "But what does it mean?"

              He raised his shoulder. "I ... don't know. The ouroboros is a symbol of life; ever-repeating, never-ending. The cycle of life, death, and rebirth. But I don't know what it means for you."

              She sighed and closed her hand into a fist. "Well, Onesimus promised me answers, but I only got that ring. But I have so many questions—especially after we met Medusa and my hands—"

              Before she could continue, a voice called, "Posie?" and Percy jogged down the street towards her and Apollo. The god grinned, winking at his daughter, his mood shifting a hundred and eighty degrees compared to moments before.

              "We'll continue later, Little Posie," Apollo promised. "And make sure to tell Chiron!"

              He disappeared in a column of sunlight, leaving Percy to look at Josephine for questions.

              "Did you fight him?" he asked, trying to joke around.

              "Didn't even get to raise my voice." Josephine stood up, sighing. "So—how'd it go with Poseidon? D'you yell at him?"

              The boy shook his head, glancing back, down the path he came. "No. Um, Poseidon told me what he thinks of that voice from the dreams."

              Josephine raised her eyebrows curiously. "What d'he say?"

              Percy licked his lips. "Kronos."

              Her heart sputtered to a stop. She could hear Onesimus mutter worries in her ears. "What?"

              "That's the voice I heard in my dreams, Posie," Percy insisted. "My dad was telling me Kronos does it every so often. He'll enter people's nightmares and give them evil thoughts."

              Josephine straightened. Was Kronos trying to give her evil thoughts? Was that who was talking to her through her dreams? She swallowed and said, "What can we do about it?"

              "I don't think there's anything we can do about it," admitted Percy.

              Don't be so sure about that, Onesimus said.

              Josephine frowned to herself. Had this been what Apollo was telling her about the gift of foresight? Was she supposed to help stop Kronos? That didn't even seem possible—to stop him and for him to rise. He was in a pile of Titan bits all the way down in Tartarus.

              "Look," Percy said, pulling her along as they tried to find the elevator back to the mortal world, "I don't want to tell anyone else. I'm not even sure if Poseidon was supposed to tell me. I don't want to worry the others."

              Secrets. Secrets. And more secrets. Hades told her about secrets, how she was someone who relied on them. Josephine didn't want to keep more secrets, but she also understood where Percy was coming from.

              Besides, a small part of her brain thought, perhaps your gift of foresight could help prevent Kronos from fully rising. It didn't seem likely, but Josephine had learned to cling to whatever hope was out there.

              "Do ... you have any good news?" she asked, passing by the hawkers once again. They did a double-take, as if checking to see if Apollo was around to swindle them again.

              Percy grinned brightly. "Hades sent my mom back."

              Josephine smiled. "That's great, Perce! C'mon, we need to get you back to your mom!"

              "Hey," Percy said, jogging after her as she searched for the way out. "Why don't you correct us when we call you Posie?"

              She glanced back at him. "I've had a change of heart, I guess. Besides, if I can call you Seaweed Brain, I figure I'll let you call me Posie."

✿

Josephine, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated the four as if they'd won some reality TV contest. According to Camp tradition, they wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in their honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where they got to burn the burial shrouds their cabins had made for them in their absence.

              Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—grey silk with embroidered owls. It was a pity to burn, really, since it was so pretty. Josephine's shroud was a shiny yellow silk with lyres, bows, and posies embroidered in gold thread. ( "Shame to burn it," Percy told her as she lit it on fire. "It's really pretty."

               "Never tell my siblings this," Josephine whispered to him, "I'm not a big fan of yellow."

                The son of Poseidon stared. "But—"

                "I know! It's all over Cabin Seven!" She grinned. "So, I'm enjoying burning this." )

              Given that Percy didn't have any siblings, the Ares Cabin volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted in the middle.

              "Fun to burn?" Josephine asked, noticing his satisfied smile.

              "Yeah," he admitted.

              As Apollo Cabin led the sing-along and passed out toasted marshmallows, Josephine was patted on the back by her siblings, giving her hugs and prods for all the information of what happened on the quest. Percy was surrounded by his old Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's siblings from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past.

              The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told Josephine they would never forgive the son of Poseidon for disgracing their dad.

              Cabin Five definitely weren't Percy's first enemies.

              Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen Josephine's spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get himself killed and now he'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday ..."

              Despite her attitude towards yellow, Josephine was ecstatic to be back in Cabin Seven. The dreams didn't get any better, and nor did Onesimus's mutters about this and that, but Josephine had grown over the quest. Even Lee had noticed.

              "So, going on a quest is what made you become a social butterfly?" He grinned, leaning on the post of her bunk bed.

              "Social butterfly is pushing it," she said, smoothing down her sheets. "I just have more friends."

              "People to talk to that aren't your siblings," Lee pushed. His smile twinged with what looked like sadness. "I'm glad, Posie. I was really worried about you."

              "There's no need to be worried," she said. "This quest gave me a lot of ... insight about a lot of things."

              And a lot of questions, too, she thought.

              They'll be answered in time! Onesimus spoke up angrily. I really wish you stop trying to guilt trip me over this ...

              She smiled at her brother. "Promise. No need to worry. As dangerous as it was, I returned to Camp with all limbs attached. And with more knowledge, too."

              Tell Chiron, Apollo advised her, but part of Josephine wondered if she should tell Chiron. If he couldn't help her, then what could Chiron ever do?

✿

Before Josephine knew it, it was the Fourth of July. And as tradition, the whole Camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by Cabin Nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. The blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

              As Annabeth and Percy were spreading a picnic blanket, and Josephine was dropping off bags of candy she had gotten from the Stoll brothers, Grover came by to tell them goodbye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and trainers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had got thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown a few centimeters at least, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human.

              "I'm off," he said, giving the three a sad goat-eyed look. "I just came to say ... well, you know."

              Josephine tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying goodbye. She had known him for two years, but had just become his friend. She didn't want to see him go.

              Blinking tears away, she fixed his rasta cap and said, "We need to get you a better cap to hide your horns. I'll get you one for your birthday."

              Annabeth gave him a hug. She told the satyr to keep his fake feet on.

              Percy asked Grover where he was going to search first.

              "Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan ..."

              "We understand," Josephine promised quickly. "You got enough tin cans with you, right?"

              "Yeah."

              "And you remembered your reed pipes?" she asked. "You know helpful songs?"

              "Jeez, Josephine," he grumbled, doing his best to sound annoyed. "You're like an old mama goat."

              "I worry, Grover!" She stamped her foot.

              He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway.

              "Well," he said, "wish me luck."

              He gave Annabeth and Josephine another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes.

              Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington ( who, by the way, was a son of Athena; Annabeth like to claim that proudly, oddly enough ) crossing the Delaware.

              "Hey, Grover," Percy called.

              The satyr turned at the edge of the woods.

              "Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas."

              Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

              "We'll see him again," Annabeth said.

              Josephine tried to believe it. The fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years ... well, she decided not to think about that. Grover would be the first. He had to be.

✿

July passed by in a blink of an eye.

              Josephine spent her days with her siblings and new-found friends. Come to find out, many people considered her a friend—many more than she originally thought. Like Annabeth, people like Connor, Travis, Silena, and Wyatt all thought she was kind and friendly, just distant because of circumstances. ( A weird part of her brain hated the thought of Wyatt Fitzgerald thinking of her as only a friend, but she ignored the thought, hoping Onesimus hadn't caught onto the feeling. She didn't want him teasing her for it. )

              She spent her days with these friends, creating much better memories of Camp than the ones she had over the past two years. She trained with Percy, Annabeth, and Wyatt with her two daggers. ( "I got names for them!" the son of Poseidon loudly declared as she and Annabeth finished sparring. "Anthos and Arsis!" Josephine stared. "What?" "You said I could name them—Anthos and Arsis!" ) She spent time with her siblings; helping Lee from keeping Austin and Kayla from fighting too much, making sure Will took enough breaks from the infirmary, and keeping Michael from getting into too many fights with other campers. She devised plans and new strategies for Capture the Flag with Annabeth and Percy.

              From time to time, Josephine's mind would pass over the prophecy. Percy had told his other companions when they had all made it back alive, and Josephine was happy she hadn't known it before the quest. However, some part of her felt like the prophecy hadn't been completed.

              Your gift of foresight, Onesimus offered. Foresight, prophecies. They're often tied together.

              I just hope I'm being paranoid, she admitted.

              Perhaps you are.

              But Onesimus didn't sound like he even believed himself.

              When the last night of the summer session came, Josephine felt like the summer had just started.

              The campers had one last meal together. They burned part of their dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. The beads were to represent the summer's most memorable event of the summer. It made sense for the bead to incorporate Poseidon and Percy. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

              "The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first son of the Sea God at this Camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

              The entire Camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause. Austin and Kayla pulled Josephine to the front, grinning from ear to ear like some evil twins. Cabin Seven cheered for the girl, happy to have their cabin represented in something monumental.

✿

Josephine woke the next morning with the word Betrayal! being screamed in her mind. She winced, noticing the end-of-summer form letter on her nightstand. She shook the screaming away, grabbing the letter.

              Dear Joslyn Eld,
                            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.
                            Have a nice day!
                            Mr. D ( Dionysus )
                            Camp Director, Olympian Council no.12

              She rolled her eyes silently, knowing she had been year-round for the last two years. Nothing had changed that.

              She rolled out of bed, getting ready to head to the Big House. The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. Campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and makeup kits over the hill where the Camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the airport.

              As she made the trek, the prophecy lines rang in her ears.

              Four shall go west, and face the god who has turned.

              They did that, and kept their lives while at it. Even if the traitor ended up being Ares rather than Hades.

              One shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.

              They accomplished that, too. They found and delivered the master bolt, and the same with the helm of darkness.

              One shall look for answers, and meet an enemy turned.

              A chill crawled up Josephine's spine as she realized that this prophecy line was about her. She was the one desperately looking for answers, but the only 'enemy' she could come up with was Onesimus. But he didn't exactly feel like an enemy ...

              You shall be betrayed by the one who calls you a friend.

              This prophecy line bothered Josephine more than the last. Betrayed by a friend. Ares had pretended to be a friend, then betrayed them. Josephine didn't have any other explanation of what the Oracle could mean.

              And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.

              Percy had failed to save his mom, only because he let her save herself rather than relying on her son. Sally got rid of Gabe Ugliano without her son.

              The prophecy just doesn't feel complete, she admitted to Onesimus.

              You're right, he agreed.

              She faltered, her feet catching on a dip in the grass. Josephine stumbled, thinking, It really isn't? What is there you're not telling me?

              Back in the Underworld, he started, Grover was dragged to the edge of Tartarus—

              By Luke's shoes—

              Luke's shoes. A gift he gave out of kindness. A gift he gave Percy for what Josephine perceived to be kindness.

              You shall be betrayed by the one who calls you a friend, the prophecy line rang in her ears.

              Luke was at the winter solstice. His father was the God of Thieves. But Luke would hate that since he disliked the gods more than anymore Josephine had ever met.

              The daughter of Apollo paused outside the Big House, staring in shock at Chiron's smiling face.

              "Josephine?" he asked. "You're here to tell us you're staying year-round?"

              "Um, yes, yeah," she said quickly. "Can I go?"

              Chiron glanced around. "I suppose so, Josephine."

              She took off in a sprint, racing down the hills of Camp and towards the cabins. Luke had been the one to betray them. After everything he and Annabeth survived, after Thalia gave up her life to let them get to Camp safely, and he pays them back with betrayal. Betrayal was the son of Hermes's form of gratitude, his nasty way to say Thanks for the good times. Josephine was sure he had been the one to summon the hellhound from the Underworld, hoping to kill Percy easy and quick. And then gave them the sneakers in hopes that they would be the ones to drag the wearer into Tartarus.

              You knew the prophecy wasn't finished and you didn't tell me? Josephine demanded from Onesimus.

              I had my suspicions, but I wasn't sure! I was mulling it over, thinking it all out. Just because I have some answers, doesn't mean I have infinite wisdom!

              Well, that's just great because Percy wasn't in his cabin. Josephine stormed over to Cabin Eleven, barging inside. The Stoll brothers and Wyatt were there, cleaning up from the messy summer.

              "Where's Luke?" she demanded when she didn't see the blond.

              Connor, Travis, and Wyatt shared a confused glance. They had never seen Josephine so angry and scared.

              "Posie, you all right?" Wyatt asked, taking a step towards her.

              "No." Her voice broke. "Tell me where Luke is. Please."

              "He went into the forest with Percy." Wyatt shrugged, pointing in the direction of the tall trees.

              "With Percy?"

              Luke had tried to kill Percy twice before, and there was no way he wouldn't try again.

              Connor nodded nervously. "He and Percy just went to share a couple of Co—"

              But Josephine didn't hear the rest. She bolted from the cabin, pushing herself to run as fast as she could toward the line of trees. There was no telling what was going down in there right now.

              She reached the edge of the forest, catching two wood nymphs pulling a boy out of the woods. He was barely conscious, practically green, and his lips were turning blue. He was dying.

              Josephine helped the wood nymphs pull Percy all the way to the Big House, calling out to Chiron. The centaur's brown eyes widened as he spotted them and he quickly trotted down.

              "What happened?" he demanded, helping Josephine put Percy on his back.

              "I—" Her voice cracked again, her eyes filled with tears. She hated seeing Percy this way. "The prophecy, Chiron. It's been fulfilled."

✿

Josephine picked at the skin around her nails, watching as Annabeth fixed the drinking straw tipping out of Percy's mouth. She felt her adrenaline crash, and the cold hard truth crash into her like a tidal wave. She did her best to explain what she had stumbled across to Annabeth and Chiron, hoping she had taken Onesimus's involvement out the best way possible. Despite what Apollo told her, she still felt it was best to keep Onesimus to herself.

              The daughter of Athena tapped her foot restlessly, just as scared and conflicted as Josephine was. She seemed shell-shocked as she grabbed a washcloth to dab Percy's forehead.

              "Here we are again," Percy groaned.

              Josephine's eyes snapped up. She hadn't realized Percy was awake.

              "You idiot," Annabeth said, which is how Josephine knew she was overjoyed to see Percy conscious. "You were green and turning grey when Posie found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing ..."

              "Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit."

              He was sitting near the foot of Percy's bed in human form. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he spent day and night keeping Hermes's kids from getting into too much trouble.

              Josephine sat up. "Percy, how are you feeling?"

              "Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved."

              "Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom," Chiron spoke up. "Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened."

              Between sips of nectar, Percy told them the story.

              The room was quiet for a long time.

              "I can't believe that Luke ..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him ... He was never the same after his quest."

              Josephine swallowed, her heart in her throat. "What do we do about Luke?"

              "This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured grimly. "I will go at once."

              "Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him."

              Josephine gave him a look. "You're still green in the face. You're not going anywhere."

              Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—"

              "Won't even talk about Kronos," the son of Poseidon snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!"

              "Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready."

              "Chiron ... your prophecy from the Oracle ... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? And Annabeth? Posie?"

              Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—"

              "You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?"

              His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you ..."

              Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows. A warning from Zeus.

              "All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!"

              He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."

              "But we also can't just sit back and do nothing, Chiron," Josephine protested.

              "We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But we must be careful. Kronos wants Percy to come unravelled. He wants his life disrupted, his thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Percy—do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come."

              "Assuming I live that long."

              Chiron put his hand on Percy's ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice ..." Josephine knew that Chiron wanted the boy to stay, but it was still Percy's decision. "... But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision."

              Josephine wanted to ask more questions, maybe hopefully get some answers, but Chiron's expression told her there would be no more discussion; he had said as much as he could.

              "I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you."

              He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear ... whenever you're ready, they're here."

              "Who's here?" Percy asked.

              Nobody answered.

              Chiron rolled himself out of the room. Josephine heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time.

              Annabeth studied the ice in Percy's drink.

              "You want to change your mind?" Josephine asked.

              "Change your mind?" Percy asked.

              "It's nothing." The blonde set the glass on the table. "I ... just took your advice about something. You ... um ... need anything?"

              "Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside."

              Josephine frowned. "That's not a good idea, Percy."

              But he didn't care. He slid his legs out of the bed. Josephine caught him before he could crumple to the floor.

              "I told you," she muttered.

              "I'm fine," he insisted.

              He managed a step forward. Then another, Josephine and Annabeth keeping him on his feet. Argus followed them outside, but he kept his distance.

              By the time they reached the porch, Percy's face was beaded with sweat, but he managed to make it all the way to the railing.

              It was dusk. The Camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit was silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun.

              "What are you going to do?" Josephine asked Percy.

              "I don't know." He crossed his arms and frowned.

              Percy told the two about how he got the feeling Chiron wanted him to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but that he wasn't sure that's what he wanted. He admitted that he'd feel bad to leave Josephine and Annabeth alone with Clarisse for company.

              Annabeth pursed her lips, looking guiltily at Josephine. She said quietly, "I'm going home for the year."

              Percy stared at her. "You mean, to your dad's?"

              She pointed towards the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with braided black hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver.

              "I wrote him a letter when we got back," Annabeth said. "Just like you suggested. I told him ... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided ... we'd give it another try."

              "That took guts," Percy said.

              Annabeth looked at the daughter of Apollo. "I'm sorry, Posie."

              Josephine shook her head. "Don't be." She gave the blonde a smile. "I'm happy for you." And she meant it, despite how sad she was to have all of her friends leaving for the world outside of Camp. But Josephine was truly happy Annabeth was reconnecting with her mortal family.

              If things had been different for Josephine, she'd do the same. But she would never go back to Beau. Besides, she wasn't even sure if she could.

              Annabeth pursed her lips, looking at Percy. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least ... not without sending us an Iris Message?"

              Percy smiled. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

              "When I get back next summer," said Annabeth, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?" She looked at both Percy and Josephine.

              The daughter of Apollo laughed lightly. "Sounds like a plan."

              They all shook hands.

              "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said. "Keep your eyes open."

              "You too, Wise Girl."

              Annabeth pulled Josephine into a hug. "Give Clarisse hell for me while you're both here, Posie."

              "Not a chance." Josephine shook her head. "I don't want my ass getting handed to me."

              Josephine and Percy watched Annabeth walk up the hill and join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time. She touched Thalia's pine tree, then allowed herself to be led over the crest and into the mortal world.

              "You're gonna go home, aren't you?" Josephine asked Percy suddenly.

              The boy winced. "I'm sorry."

              She gave him a sad smile. "You shouldn't be. Besides, if you stayed at Camp when you just got your mom back, I might just kick your ass for that."

              "You'll be okay here, by yourself?" he asked, leaning forward against the railing.

              Josephine rolled her eyes, looking out to the Camp before her. She watched as campers hugged and said their goodbyes to the year-round campers. At the Hermes Cabin, she caught sight of the Stoll brothers and Wyatt, who sent her waves and grins.

              "Percy," she said, "I've been here for two years and made it by just fine. In fact ... I think this quest opened my eyes a lot. I realized a whole lot."

              "And what is that?" Percy prodded.

              She looked at him, her eyes unreadable with so many different emotions. "That I shouldn't let my fears and doubts hold me back."

✿ JULY 14TH, 2023 / longest chapter yet- just at 9000k words,, but the final chapter for act one!!

why am i sentimental all of a sudden? i'm acting like this is the end of posie- we still have four more acts to go (and the entirety of hoo-)

idk what to write here since so much happened this chapter- um apollo the dilf reveal ?? (he is a dilf- fight with a wall)
(and apollo totally ships perposie)

WAIT YEAH SHIP NAME- so perposie is the ship name,, @angelodude came up with it,, i think it's really cute

anyways,, thoughts? opinions??