𝐎 𝐂 𝐄 𝐀 𝐍   𝐄 𝐘 𝐄 𝐒   !

𝙲 𝙷 𝙰 𝙿 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁   𝙴 𝙻 𝙴 𝚅 𝙴 𝙽   !

( 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔟𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔠𝔢 ! )

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

          𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 of cleaning the lower deck, which had been thrown into chaos during the monster attack. Reorganizing the sickbay and bartering down the storage area took them most of the day, but Malia didn't mind. For one thing, she got to spend time with Jason. For another, she knew the two had many things to talk about what with the newfound information of her blood lineage.

As they were fixing up the stables, Malia thought about the night her brother and Annabeth had spent down here accidentally. The thought alone made her sick to her stomach, her mind conjuring up the possibility that her brother and friend were doing . . . things together. She shivered at the thought, frowning as she swept away some of the stray straw.

Malia's heart warmed as she remembered the recent night the two had spent together, just her and Jason. The first time they said I love you. She knew that Jason was hardwired to be a leader and set a good example, and that breaking the rules was unnatural to him, but she appreciated how he broke through that barrier to comfort her when she needed it the most. She truly did love him, even if he was an idiot at times.

She swept the hay into piles. Jason fixed a broken door on one of the stables. The glass floor hatch glowed from the ocean below⎯a green expanse of light and shadow that seemed to go down forever. A small part of Malia was afraid to look at the water, in case a monster's head would appear in preparation to destroy them. But nothing happened.

She would glance over at Jason every now and again, smiling when she noticed just how easily he did each task: fixing the doors, oiling the saddles, latching the windows. He did each task without thinking, coming as a second nature to him. It wasn't just his strong arms and his skillful hands that she appreciated, but also the way he acted so upbeat and confident. He did what needed to be done without complaint. He kept his sense of humor, despite the fact that the guy had to be dead on his feet after not having slept the night before. When it came to work and duty, the boy was Roman to the core. 

"What are you thinking?" Jason asked, snapping Malia out of her internal monologue.

She shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just wondering how I would've turned out if I'd been raised in the Roman legion instead of at Camp Half-Blood."

Jason laughed. The scar on his lip almost disappeared when he smiled. Considering all the stuff he'd been through, it was amazing that he could be in such a good mood. But, then again, so could Malia.

"I'm sure you would've ended up just like how you are now," he said, moving over to her and taking her hands. "You'd still be the same sarcastic, brave, courageous, smart, funny, and amazingly beautiful girl that you are today."

Malia perked a brow. "You really think so? I mean, I think the Romans would frown upon that."

Jason rolled his eyes. "To Hades with what they would think. You are who you're meant to be, and no change in how you were raised will do anything to that."

Malia smiled brightly as she leaned in and kissed him, laughing when she pulled away and he followed. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Yes, but I sure do love hearing it come from your mouth." Jason kissed her again, making her laugh against his lips as her cheeks warmed. When he pulled away, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "We should get going before Hedge wraps bells around our necks."

Malia thought back to the scandal of her brother and Annabeth, nodding. "Definitely. Because if we stay much longer, not only will you have Hedge on your ass, but Percy and Annabeth, too."

Jason's eyes went wide. "Shit, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Malia laughed loudly as her boyfriend pulled her out of the stables and toward the dining hall, finding his panic amusing. Gods, she loved him. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next morning Malia woke up to a different ship's horn⎯a blast so loud it literally shook her out of bed.

She wondered if Leo was pulling another prank. Then the horn boomed again. It sounded like it was coming from several hundred yards away⎯from another vessel.

She ran out of her room without changing, finding almost everyone on deck and gathered, looking as hastily dressed as she did. Piper was the only one who showed up with a put together outfit.

About a hundred yards to port, a massive cruise ship glided past. Tourists waved at them from fifteen or sixteen rows of balconies. Some smiled and took pictures. None of them looked surprised to see an Ancient Greek trireme. Maybe the Mist made it look like a fishing boat, or perhaps the cruisers thought the Argo II was a tourist attraction.

The cruise ship blew its horn again, and the Argo II had a shaking fit.

Coach Hedge plugged his ears. "Do they have to be so loud?"

"They're just saying hi," Frank speculated.

"What?" Hedge yelled.

The ship edged past them, heading out to sea. The tourists kept waving. If they found it strange that the Argo II was populated by half-asleep kids in armor and pajamas and a man with goat legs, they didn't let on.

"Bye!" Leo called, raising his smoking hand.

"Can I man the ballistae?" Hedge asked.

"No," Leo said through a forced smile.

Hazel rubbed her eyes and looked across the glittering green water. "Where are⎯oh . . . wow."

Malia followed her gaze and gasped. Without the cruise ship blocking their view, she saw a mountain jutting from the sea less than half a mile to the north. Malia had seen impressive cliffs before. One summer, she and Percy had gone cliff humping at some random beach. Their mom had been worried for their safety, but it had been one of the best experiences of their lives.

But those cliffs were nothing compared to this massive fist of blinding white rock shooting up into the sky. On one side, the limestone cliffs were almost completely sheer, dropping into the sea over a thousand feet below, as near as Malia could figure. On the other side, the mountain sloped in tiers, covered in green forest, so that the whole thing reminded Malia of a colossal sphinx, worn down over the millennia, with a massive white head and chest, and a green cloak over its back.

"The Rock of Gibraltar," Malia muttered in awe, her eyes sparkling like the ocean. "At the tip of Spain. And over there⎯" She pointed south, to a more distant stretch of red and ochre hills. "That must be Africa. We're at the mouth of the Mediterranean."

The morning was warm, the air brushing against her cheeks and through her tangled hair. Though, there was a small pit of dread in her stomach. Once in the Mediterranean⎯the Mare Nostrum⎯they would be in the ancient lands. If the legends were true, their quest would become ten times more dangerous.

"What now?" Piper asked. "Do we just sail in?"

"Why not?" Leo said. "It's a big shipping channel. Boats go in and out all the time."

Malia stared at the Rock of Gibraltar, frowning. Her brows were furrowed as she thought back to the multiple legends and myths she'd read in preparation for this quest.

"In the old days," she started, "they called this area the Pillars of Hercules. The Rock was supposed to be one pillar. The other was one of the African mountains. Nobody is sure which one."

"Hercules, huh?" Percy had a teasing look in his eyes. He'd heard Malia's nickname for Jason a few times. "That guy was like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece. Everywhere you turn⎯there he is."

A thunderous boom shook the Argo II, though Malia wasn't sure where it came from this time. She didn't see nor sense any other ships, and the skies were clear.

Piper swallowed. "So . . . these Pillars of Hercules. Are they dangerous?"

Malia stayed focused on the cliffs, waiting for anything to appear. "For Greeks, the pillars marked the end of the known world. The Romans said the pillars were inscribed with a Latin warning⎯"

"Non plus ultra," Percy said.

Malia turned to her brother, flabbergasted. "Yeah . . . Nothing Further Beyond. Not calling you an idiot, but how the shit did you know that?"

Percy pointed, rolling his eyes. "Because I'm looking at it."

Directly ahead of them, in the middle of the straits, an island had shimmered into existence. Malia was positive no island had been there before. It was a small hilly mass of land, covered in forests and ringed with white beaches. Not very impressive compared to Gibraltar, but in front of the island, jutting from the waves about a hundred yards offshore, were two white Grecian columns as tall as the Argo's masts. Between the columns, huge silver words glittered underwater⎯maybe an illusion, or maybe inlaid in the sand: NON PLUS ULTRA.

"Guys, do I turn around?" Leo asked nervously. "Or . . ."

No one answered⎯maybe because, like Malia, they had noticed the figure standing on the beach. As the ship approached the columns, she saw a dark-haired man in purple robes, his arms crossed, staring intently at their ship as if he were expecting them. Malia couldn't tell much else about him from this distance, but judging from his posture, he wasn't happy.

Frank inhaled sharply. "Could that be⎯?"

"Hercules," Jason said. "The most powerful demigod of all time."

Malia rolled her eyes, lips pulling into a scowl. Gods, she hated Hercules. "Like he needs that ego boost."

The Argo II was only a few hundred yards from the columns now.

"Need an answer," Leo said urgently. "I can turn, or we can take off. The stabilizers are working again. But I need to know quick⎯"

Annabeth gestured to Malia, letting the girl take the lead. "We have to keep going. I think he's guarding these straits. If that's really Hercules, sailing or flying away wouldn't do anything. He'll want to talk to us."

They had to pass through to reach the Mediterranean, and in all the legends, they first had to speak with Hercules.

"Won't Hercules be on our side?" Piper asked hopefully. "I mean . . . he's one of us, right?"

Jason grunted. "He was a son of Zeus, but when he died, he became a god. You can never be sure with gods."

"Plus, the guy is a walking ego trip," Malia said, crossing her arms. "And he has a hatred for Hera. Who we are currently questing for. So . . ."

"Great," Percy said. "Eight of us against Hercules."

"And a satyr!" Hedge added. "We can take him."

"I've got a better idea," Annabeth said. "We send ambassadors ashore. A small group⎯one or two at most. Try to talk with him."

"I'll go," Jason said. "He's a son of Zeus. I'm the son of Jupiter. Maybe he'll be friendly to me."

"Or maybe he'll hate you," Percy suggested. "Half brothers don't always get along."

Jason scowled. "Thank you, Mr. Optimism."

Malia just hit her brother over the head with a roll of her eyes.

"It's worth a shot," Annabeth said. "At least Jason and Hercules will have something in common. And we need our best diplomat. Someone who's good with words."

All eyes turned to Piper.

The girl shook her head, looking very upset at the idea. "Not me." Her eyes landed on Malia. "Lia."

"Why me?" the daughter of Neptune asked. She really did not want to meet Hercules. Someone close to her once told her how much of an ass he was, and she did not tust heself not to punch him. 

Piper glanced at her dagger. "I saw it. There's going to be something with water while you're on that island. And Jason'll need a daughter of Poseid⎯sorry, Neptune, to help him out."

Malia pondered this for a moment before nodding with a sigh. Piper's visions were always right. "Fine. Just let me get dressed."

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

Once Leo had anchored the Argo II between the pillars, Jason summoned the wind to carry him and Malia ashore. But not before Percy threatened him about keeping Malia safe and reminding Malia not to do anything stupid.

The man in purple was waiting for them.

Malia had heard tons of stories about Hercules. She'd read the myths, seen several cheesy movies and cartoons about him. Before today, if she had thought about him at all, she'd just roll her eyes and imagine the Hercules from the Disney movie that she used to watch on repeat and had all the songs memorized. 

She was quickly proven wrong.

His feet were bare, covered in white sand. His robes made him look like a priest, though Malia couldn't remember which rank of priest wore purple. Was that cardinals? Bishops? And did the purple color mean he was the Roman version of Hercules rather than the Greek? His beard was fashionably scruffy, but Malia hated beards, so she found it heavily unattractive.

He was well built, but not too stocky. His ebony hair was close-cropped, Roman style. He had startling blue eyes like Jason's, but his skin was coppery, as if he'd spent his entire life on a tanning bed. The most surprising thing: he looked about twenty. Definitely no older. He was handsome in a rugged but not-at-all-caveman way.

Which was ironic since he did have a club, which lay in the sand next to him, but it was more like an oversized baseball bat. It was a five-foot-long polished cylinder of mahogany and leather that Coach Hedge would have been overly jealous of and probably would have stolen if possible.

It took everything within her to keep her hands at her sides. Gods, she wanted to punch him. But she swallowed her anger and forced a placating expression.

Jason and Malia landed at the edge of the surf. They approached slowly, careful not to make any threatening moves. Hercules watched them with no particular emotion, as if they were some form of seabird he had never noticed before.

"Hello," Malia greeted.

"What's up?" Hercules asked, making Malia roll her eyes internally. His voice was deep but casual, very modern. He could've been greeting them in the high school locker room.

"Um, not much," Malia said casually. "Well, actually, a lot. I'm Malia, this is Jason. We⎯"

"Where's your lion skin?" Jason interrupted.

Malia slapped her forehead with her palm, groaning. Of course he'd choose now to be an idiot. Hercules looked more amused than annoyed, though, so that made the situation a tad bit better.

"It's ninety degrees out here," he said. "Why would I wear my lion skin? Do you wear a fur coat to the beach?"

Malia shrugged. "Depends on where the beach is."

"I guess that makes sense," Jason said, fighting down a smile at Malia's comment. "It's just that the pictures always show you with a lion skin."

Hercules glared at the sky accusingly, like he wanted to have words with his father, Zeus. "Don't believe everything you hear about me. Being famous isn't as fun as you might think."

"Tell me about it," Malia mumbled, rubbing her arm.

Hercules fixed those brilliant blue eyes on her. "Are you famous?"

Malia tilted her head side-to-side. "Does being a country-wide wanted criminal for a summer count as being famous?" The worst summer ever. "Anyways, I'm assuming you hate movies and stories written about you."

Hercules snarled. "Don't get me started with the movies. Gods of Olympus, they never get anything right. Have you seen one movie about me where I look like me?"

Malia pursed her lips. "Sorry, no. To be honest, I'm surprised you're so young. The only ever movie that showed you being this young would be Disney's Hercules, but we don't need to talk about that."

"Yes, let's not. And with the young thing, being immortal helps. I wasn't so old when I died. Not by modern standards, anyways. I did a lot during my years as a hero . . . too much, really." His eyes drifted to Jason. "Son of Zeus, eh?"

"Jupiter," Jason said.

"Not much difference," Hercules grumbled. "Dad's annoying in either form. Me? I was called Heracles. Then the Romans came along and named me Hercules. I didn't really change that much, though lately just thinking about it gives me splitting headaches . . ."

The left side of his face twitched. His robes shimmered, momentarily turning white, then back to purple. 

"At any rate," Hercules said, "if you're Jupiter's son, you might understand. It's a lot of pressure. Enough is never enough. Eventually it can make a guy snap."

He turned to Malia. She felt like a thousand ants were crawling up her back. There was a mixture of sadness and darkness in his eyes that seemed not quite sane, and definitely not safe. 

"As for you, my dear," Hercules said, "be careful. Sons of Zeus can be . . . well, never mind."

Oh, trust me, I know. She bit back the comment. A good friend of hers had told her just how . . . sons of Zeus could be. Specifically the one looking at her. However, she kept a calm, polite expression, once again forcing down her burning rage. (Jason's hand in her own was the only reason she hadn't launched herself at the stupid god).

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Hercules," she said. "So, we're on a quest. We'd like permission to pass into the Mediterranean."

Hercules shrugged. "That's why I'm here. After I died, Dad made me the doorkeeper of Olympus. I said, Great! Palace duty! Party all the time! What he didn't mention is that I'd be guarding the doors to the ancient lands, stuck on this island for the rest of eternity. Lots of fun."

He pointed at the pillars rising from the surf. "Stupid columns. Some people claim I created the whole Strait of Gibraltar by shoving mountains apart. Some people say the mountains are the pillars. What a bunch of Augean manure. The pillars and pillars."

"Right," Malia said. "Naturally. So . . . can we pass?"

The god scratched his fashionable beard. "Well, I have to give you the standard warning about how dangerous the ancient lands are. Not just any demigod can survive the Mare Nostrum. Because of that, I have to give you a quest to complete. Prove your worth, blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I don't make a big deal of it. Usually I give demigods something simple like a shopping trip, singing a funny song, that sort of thing. After all those labors I had to complete for my evil cousin Eurystheus, well . . . I don't want to be that guy, you know?"

"Appreciate it," Jason said.

"Hey, no problem." Hercules sounded relaxed and easygoing, but he still made Malia nervous. That dark glint in his eyes reminded her of charcoal soaked in kerosene, ready to go up at a moment's notice. 

"So anyway," Hercules said, "what's your quest?"

"Giants," Jason said. "We're off to Greece to stop them from awakening Gaea."

"Giants," Hercules muttered. "I hate those guys. Back when I was a demigod hero . . . ah, but never mind. So which god put you up to this⎯Dad? Athena? Maybe Aphrodite?" He raised an eyebrow at Malia. "As pretty as you are, I'm guessing that's your mom."

Malia pursed her lips. "Neptune, actually."

She was about to come up with a random god, one that wouldn't set him off, but Jason spoke before she could.

"Hera sent us," Jason said. "She brought us together to⎯"

"Hera." Suddenly Hercules's expression was like the cliffs of Gibraltar⎯a solid, unforgiving sheet of stone.

"We hate her too," Malia said bitterly. "Believe me, I hate her with my entire being. She's spent most of my life trying to get me killed and then proceeded to get me to save her royal ass." She cleared her throat when she realized she was getting personal. "Anyway, we don't want to help her. None of us do. She didn't really give us much choice, though⎯"

"But here you are," Hercules said, all friendliness gone. "Sorry, you two. I don't care how worthy your quest is. I don't do anything that Hera wants. Ever."

Jason looked mystified. "But I thought you made up with her when you became a god."

Malia leaned closer to Jason. "Hera kind of destroyed his entire life and killed people important to him, so I doubt he'd forgive her."

Hercules nodded to her. "She understands. Don't believe everything you hear. If you want to pass into the Mediterranean, I'm afraid I've got to give you an extra-hard quest."

"But we're like brothers," Jason protested. "Hera's messed with my life, too. I understand⎯"

"You understand nothing," Hercules said coldly. "My first family: dead. My life wasted on ridiculous quests. My second wife dead, after being tricked into poisoning me and leaving me to a painful demise. And my compensation? I got to become a minor god. Immortal, so I can never forget my pain. Stuck here as a gatekeeper, a doorman, a . . . a butler for the Olympians. No, you don't understand. The only god who understands me even a little bit is Dionysus. And at least he invented something useful. I have nothing to show except bad film adaptations of my life."

Malia frowned. She knew Hercules's story like the back of her hand. And hearing it from Hercules only made her feel worse about everything he's been through. But then a certain someone's smiling face passed through her mind, and all the anger was back. "That's . . . I can't even describe that, Lord Hercules. I wish saying I'm sorry would fix it, but it won't. But please, go easy on us, sir. We're not bad people, and we really need to reach Rome as quickly as possible. People's lives are on the line. You understand?"

She thought she'd succeeded in accessing the mortal parts that still remained. Hercules hesitated. Then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head. "On the opposite side of this island, over those hills, you'll find a river. In the middle of that river lives the old god Achelous."

Hercules waited, as if this information should send them running in terror. Malia shrugged. A river god? She'd dealt with them before.

"And . . . ?" Jason asked.

"And," Hercules said, "I want you to break off his other horn and bring it to me."

"He has horns," Jason said. "Wait . . . his other horn? What⎯?"

"Figure it out," the god snapped. "Here, this should help.

He said the word help like it meant hurt. From under his robes, Hercules took a small book and tossed it to Malia. She frowned as she caught it.

The book's glossy cover showed a photogenic montage of Greek temples and smiling monsters. The Minotaur (she hated that fucking thing) was giving a thumbs-up. The title read: The Hercules Guide to the Mare Nostrum.

"Bring me that horn by sundown," Hercules said. "Just the two of you. No contacting your friends. Your ship will remain where it is. If you succeed, you may pass into the Mediterranean."

"And if we don't?" Malia asked, though she knew she didn't want the answer.

"Well, Achelous will kill you, obviously," Hercules said. "And I will break your ship in half with my bare hands and send your friends to an early grave."

Jason shifted his feet. "Couldn't we just sing a funny song?"

"I'd get going," Hercules said coldly. "Sundown. Or your friends are dead."

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

The Hercules Guide to the Mare Nostrum didn't help much with snakes and mosquitoes. 

"If this is a magic island," Malia grumbled, "why couldn't it be a nice magic island? Why does everything involving Greek and Roman mythology have to be a pain in my ass?"

They tromped up a hill and down into a heavily wooded valley, careful to avoid the black-and-red-striped snakes sunning themselves on the rocks. Mosquitoes swarmed over stagnant ponds in the lowest areas. The trees were mostly stunted olives, cypress, and pines. The chirring of the cicadas and the oppressive heat reminded Malia of the one swamp she'd been in with Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson after escaping Luke's ship their second summer at camp.

So far they hadn't found any river.

"We could fly," Jason suggested again.

Malia smiled softly. The thought was getting more and more appealing. "While I'd love to be in your arms hundreds of feet in the air, I can get a better reading in here. The water in the air will mess with my senses."

Jason sighed in understanding. "So, Achelous." He was trying to read the guidebook while they walked, so he kept running into trees and stumbling over rocks. "Says here he's a potamus."

"A river god, yeah," Malia said. "He's the spirit of the Achelous River in Greece, which was the most powerful river in the country. Once worshiped as the god of fresh water. Now he's here, and he might not be too happy about that."

Jason glanced up from the book. "You met him?"

Malia shook her head. "No, but I've heard stories from my dad about him. Anyway, is there anything else you've gotten from that book aside from a potential concussion from running into trees?"

Jason rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Says Hercules fought him one time."

"Hercules fought ninety-nine percent of everything in Ancient Greece."

"Yeah. Let's see. Pillars of Hercules . . ." Jason flipped a page. "Says here this island has no hotels, no restaurants, no transportation. Attractions: Hercules and two pillars. Huh, this is interesting. Supposedly the dollar sign⎯you know, the S with the two lines through it?⎯that came from the Spanish coat of arms, which showed the Pillars of Hercules with a banner curling between them."

Malia smiled. "You sound like me and Annabeth." She poked his cheek with a laugh. "Anyway, anything more helpful than that?"

"Wait. Here's a tiny reference to Achelous: This river god fought Hercules for the hand of the beautiful Deianira. During the struggle, Hercules broke off one of the river god's horns, which became the first cornucopia."

"That Thanksgiving decoration. The one with all the stuff spilling out of it?" Malia asked.

"Yeah. We have some in the mess hall at Camp Jupiter. I didn't know the original one was actually some guy's horn."

Malia shivered. "Wait, horns aren't meant to be removed. Oh, that had to suck. And Hercules wants us to take the other one? What a dick move. Who's this Deianira?"

"You mean, you don't have all the answers?" Jason asked jokingly. "Hercules married her. I think . . . doesn't say here. But I think something bad happened to her."

"No shit. She married a psycho," Malia said, ducking under another low-hanging branch. "After meeting him, I'm officially changing your nickname from Hercules to Sparky. Much better."

Jason groaned playfully. "Aw man. And I liked that nickname."

They trudged across a ridge between two hills, trying to stay in the shade; but Malia was already soaked with sweat. The mosquitoes left welts on her ankles, arms, and neck so she probably looked like a smallpox victim.

She was a little irritated with Jason for having mentioned Hera, but she couldn't blame him. They didn't know that Hercules would do something this bad to them if he knew. 

She wondered what Hercules had wanted to tell her about the sons of Zeus. They couldn't be trusted? They were under too much pressure? Malia tried to imagine Jason becoming a god when he died, standing on some beach guarding the gates to an ocean long after Malia and everyone else he knew in his mortal life were dead.

She wondered if Hercules had ever been as positive as Jason⎯more upbeat, confident, quick to comfort. It was hard to picture.

As they hiked down into the next valley, Malia wondered what was happening back on the Argo II. She was tempted to send an Iris-message, but Hercules had warned them not to contact their friends. She hoped Annabeth could guess what was going on and didn't try to send another party ashore. Malia wasn't sure what Hercules would do if he were bothered further. She imagined Coach Hedge getting impatient and aiming a ballista at the man in purple, or eidolons possessing the crew and forcing them to commit suicide-by-Hercules.

Malia shuddered. She didn't know what time it was, but the sun was already starting to sink. How had the day passed so quickly? She would have welcomed sundown for the cooler temperatures, except it was also their deadline. A cool night breeze wouldn't mean much if they were dead. Besides, tomorrow was July first, the Kalends of July. If their information was correct, it would be Nico di Angelo's last day of life, and the day Rome was destroyed. 

"Stop," Malia suddenly said.

She tilted her head, instantly hearing running water. They crept through the trees and found themselves on the bank of a river. It was maybe forty feet wide but only a few inches deep, a silver sheet of water racing over a smooth bed of stones. A few yards downstream, the rapids plunged into a dark blue swimming hole.

Something about the river bothered her. The cicadas in the trees had gone quiet. No birds were chirping. It was as if the water was giving a lecture and would only allow its own voice.

For a moment, she felt a tug in her gut. An invitation to take a drink, soak her feet in the waters. And to dive into the swimming hole and relax with Jason. Leave all her worries behind in the water.

She then set her jaw, eyes narrowing at the river. These thoughts weren't her own. 

Jason sat on a rock and started taking off his shoes. He grinned at the swimming hole like he couldn't wait to get in.

"Cut it out!" Malia ordered the river.

Jason looked startled. "Cut what out?"

"Not you," she said. "Him."

A figure emerged from the swimming hole immediately. "Forgive me. Singing is one of the few pleasures I have left."

His skin was as blue as the water. His hooves levitated on the river's surface. At the top of his bovine neck was the head of a man with short curly black hair, a beard done in ringlets Ancient Greek style, deep, mournful eyes behind bifocal glasses, and a mouth that seemed set in a permanent pout. Sprouting from the left side of his head was a single bull's horn⎯a curved black-and-white one like warriors might turn into drinking cups. The imbalance made his head tilt to the left, so that he looked like he was trying to get water out of his ear.

"Hello," he said sadly. "Come to kill me, I suppose."

Jason put his shoes back on and stood slowly. "Um, well⎯"

"No!" Malia intervened. "I'm sorry. This is embarrassing. We didn't want to bother you, but Hercules sent us."

"Hercules!" The god sighed. He looked like a reverse-Minotaur and it uneased her. His hooves pawed the water as if ready to charge. "To me, he'll always be Heracles. That's his Greek name, you know: the glory of Hera."

"Funny name," Jason said. "Since he hates her."

"Indeed," the god said. "Perhaps that's why he didn't protest when the Romans renamed him Hercules. Of course, that's the name most people now him by . . . his brand, if you will. Hercules is nothing if not image-conscious."

The god bend his front legs and lowered his head in a bow, which Malia found odd. "At your service. River god extraordinaire. Once the spirit of the mightiest river in Greece. Now sentenced to dwell here, on the opposite side of the island from my old enemy. Oh, the gods are cruel! But whether they put us so close together to punish me or Hercules, I have never been sure."

Man, this guy has more self-deprecating thoughts than I do.

"I'm Malia," she said. "This is Jason. We don't want to fight. It's just that Heracles⎯Hercules⎯whoever he his, got mad at us and sent us here."

She explained about their quest to the ancient lands to stop the giants from waking Gaea. She described how their team of Greeks and Romans had come together, and how Hercules had thrown a temper tantrum when he found out Hera was behind it.

Achelous kept tipping his head to the left, so Malia wasn't sure if he was dozing off or dealing with one-horn fatigue.

When she was done, Achelous regarded her as if she were developing a regrettable skin rash. "Ah, my dear . . . the legends are true, you know."

"I⎯I'm sorry. What?" she asked, confused at what he was hinting at. "Achelous, I don't understand⎯"

"No, you don't," the river god sympathized. "Poor thing. Another girl stuck with a son of Zeus."

"It's Jupiter," both she and Jason said.

"How does that make her a poor thing?" Jason asked.

Achelous ignored him. "My girl, do you know the cause of my fight with Hercules?"

"It was over a woman," Malia said. "Deianira?"

"Yes." Achelous heaved a sigh. "And do you know what happened to her?"

Malia huffed. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that nothing good happened."

Jason took out his guidebook and began flipping through pages. "It doesn't really⎯"

Achelous snorted indignantly. "What is that?"

Jason blinked. "Just . . . The Hercules Guide to the Mare Nostrum. He gave us the guidebook so⎯"

"That is not a book," Achelous insisted. "He gave you that just to get under my skin, didn't he? He knows I hate those things."

"You hate . . . books?" Malia asked.

"Bah!" Achelous's face flushed, turning his blue skin egg-plant purple. "That's not a book."

He pawed the water. A scroll shot from the river like a miniature rocket and landed in front of him. He nudged it open with his hooves. The weathered yellow parchment unfurled, covered with faded Latin script and elaborate hand-drawn pictures.

"This is a book!" Achelous said. "Oh, the smell of sheepskin! The elegant feel of the scroll unrolling beneath my hooves. You simply can't duplicate it in something like that!"

Malia leaned closer to Jason. "Just wait until he finds out about ebooks."

Achelous nodded indignantly at the book in Jason's hands. "You young folks today and your newfangled gadgets. Bound pages. Little compact squares of text that are not hoof-friendly. That's a bound book, a b-book, if you must. But it's not a traditional book. It'll never replace the good old-fashioned scroll.

"Um, I'll just put this away now." Jason slipped the guidebook in his back pocket the way he might holster a dangerous weapon.

Achelous seemed to calm down a little, which was a relief to Malia. She didn't need to get run over be a one-horned bull with a scroll fetish. 

"Now," Achelous said, tapping a picture on his scroll. "This is Deianira."

Malia knelt down to look. The hand-painted portrait was small, but she could tell the woman had been very beautiful, with long dark hair, dark eyes, and a playful smile that probably drove guys crazy.

"Princess of Calydon," the river god said mournfully. "She was promised to me, until Hercules butted in. He insisted on combat."

"And he broke off your horn," Jason guessed.

"Yes," Achelous said. "I could never forgive him for that. Horribly uncomfortable, only having one horn. But the situation was worse for poor Deianira. She could have had a long, happy life married to me."

"A man-headed bull," Malia said, "who lives in a river."

"Exactly," Achelous agreed. "It seems impossible she would refuse, eh? Instead, she went off with Hercules. She picked the handsome, flashy hero over the good, faithful husband who would have treated her well. What happened next? Well, she should have known. Hercules was much too wrapped up in his own problems to be a good husband. He had already murdered one wife, you know. Hera cursed him, so he flew into a rage and killed his entire family. Horrible business. That's why he had to do those twelve labors as penance."

Malia knew this already. "It still makes no sense how Hera was the one who made him do it and yet Hercules had to pay the prince."

Achelous shrugged. "The Olympians never seem to pay for their crimes. And Hera has always hated the sons of Zeus . . . or Jupiter." He glanced distrustfully at Jason. "At any rate, my poor Deianira had a tragic end. She became jealous of Hercules's many affairs. He gallivanted all over the world, you see, just like his father Zeus, flirting with every woman he met. Finally Deianira got so desperate she listened to bad advice. A crafty centaur named Nessus told her that if she wanted Hercules to be faithful forever, she should spread some centaur blood on the inside of Hercules's favorite shirt. Unfortunately Nessus was lying because he wanted revenge on Hercules. Deianira followed his instructions, but instead of making Hercules a faithful husband⎯"

"Centaur blood is like acid," Jason said.

"Yes," Achelous said. "Hercules died a painful death. When Deianira realized what she'd done, she . . ." The river god drew a line across his neck.

"That's awful," Malia said.

"And the moral, my dear?" Achelous said. "Beware the sons of Zeus."

Malia internally rolled her eyes. She knew both the children of Zeus at this point. Thalia was a strong-willed girl who was more than trustworthy and Jason? Jason was her boyfriend of almost seven months who treated her amazingly and was so sweet and kind and uplifting. She trusted him whole-heartedly because she knew she could. After all, they'd had many late-night conversations about topics she only truly trusted him and her brother with.

"Hercules is a god now," Achelous said. "He married Hebe, the youth goddess, but still he is rarely at home. He dwells here on this island, guarding those silly pillars. He says Zeus makes him do this, but I think he prefers being here to Mount Olympus, nursing his bitterness and mourning his mortal life. My presence reminds him of his failures⎯especially the woman who finally killed him. And his presence reminds me of poor Deianira, who could have been my wife."

The bull-man tapped the scroll, which rolled itself up and sank into the water.

"Hercules wants my other horn in order to humiliate me," Achelous said. "Perhaps it would make him feel better about himself, knowing that I'm miserable too. Besides, the horn would become a cornucopia. Good food and drink would flow from it, just as my power causes the river to flow. No doubt Hercules would keep the cornucopia for himself. It would be a tragedy and a waste."

Malia had a different thought racing through her head. For one, removal of the other horn would make his life much easier. And, if they could get the horn and show Hercules they had to just to get passage through the Mare Nostrum, they could keep the horn for themselves. Right? All Hercules said was to 'bring me that horn.' He never said 'give me that horn.' They had a loophole. 

Jason stirred. "I'm sorry, Achelous. Honestly, you've gotten a bum deal. But maybe . . . well, without the other horn, you might not be so lopsided. It might feel better."

Malia smiled. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Plus, it's not like he have many choices, Achelous," Jason admitted. "If Hercules doesn't get that horn, he'll kill us and our friends."

"He's right," Achelous said. "You have no choice. Which is why I hope you'll forgive me."

Malia stiffened. The river god sounded so heartbroken, but she didn't trust him. "Forgive you for what?"

"I have no choice either," Achelous said. "I have to stop you."

The river exploded, and a wall of water crashed over Malia. The current grabbed her like a fist and pulled her into the deep. Never had Malia been so happy to be a daughter of a sea god then now. Her panicked breaths raced through the water as bubbles surrounded her, blocking her vision momentarily. 

With a grunt of frustration, she kicked out of the river's hold and swam toward the surface. She breached, finding herself in the middle of a whirlpool, which pissed her off even more. A few yards away, Jason broke the surface and gasped, his sword in one hand. He swung wildly, but there was nothing to attack.

Twenty feet to Malia's right, Achelous rose from the water. "I'm really sorry about this," he said.

Jason lunged toward him, summoning the winds to lift him out of the river, but Achelous was quicker and more powerful. A curl of water slammed into Jason and sent him under once more.

"Stop it!" Malia shouted.

She felt a tug in her gut as she fought against the god's powers, using his own water against him to push Jason toward the surface. She was getting angrier by the second, and that rage did wonders for her powers.

"I'm afraid I can't stop," said the river god. "I can't let Hercules have my other horn. It would be mortifying."

"Okay, one! Why do gods have to be so narcissistic? And why do you even care about your horn being taken? It'll fix your head tilt and no one will see you unless you want them to!" Malia said, her fists clenched at her sides. "And two, who said we have to give Hercules the stupid fucking horn. We just have to show it to him then we can keep the stupid thing or return it to you!"

With Malia's help, Jason made it to the surface again. A miniature storm cloud formed over his head. Thunder boomed.

"None of that, son of Jupiter," Achelous chided. "If you call lightning, you'll just electrocute your girlfriend."

He tried to pull Jason back under, but Malia wasn't having it. She clenched her fists, the pull in her gut growing stronger as she fought the god's powers. Her anger fueled her strength, and the water let him go. However, being shoved under water multiple times made him weak. He could barely keep his eyes open as the water gently pushed him toward the edge of the river.

"What is this?" Achelous demanded.

Malia narrowed her eyes at him. "You forgot to ask one very important question, Achelous. You never asked who my parent was." The water around her lifted, allowing her to rise through the air until she was eye-level with him. "I am Ariel Malia Jackson, daughter of Neptune, god of the seas. And you are not going to stop be from keeping my friends and family safe!" She clenched her jaw. "I am not giving Hercules the horn. We can come up with a plan, possibly reunite you with your horn. but I need to save my friends."

Achelous looked at her with softened eyes. "I see. You would be my Deianira. You would be my bride to compensate for my loss."

Malia blanched. "What?" She shook her head. "You must be speaking the language of stupid because I'd never do that! I'm almost seventeen! Like hell I'm getting married that young! Anyway, I was thinking something different, you know⎯"

"Oh, I understand," Achelous said. "You were too modest to suggest this in front of your boyfriend. You're right, of course. I would treat you much better than a son of Zeus would. I could make things right after all these centuries. I could not save Deianira, but I could save you. And what better way than to marry a daughter of a water god?"

Malia glanced back at Jason to see him struggling to pull himself out of the water. She needed to buy more time so he could be free of the water.

"You would have to let your friends die," Achelous continued. "Hercules would be angry, but I can protect you from him. We could be quite happy together. Let's start by letting that Jason fellow drown."

Malia shook her head. "Never. I would never marry you Achelous. You are willing to let the entire world fall just to get revenge on someone. My brother is on that ship. My friends are on that ship. And I will fight until my last fucking breath to save them, even if it means finding a way to kill a god."

With that, she twisted her wrist, the water flinging her into the air. She soared over the god's head and landed, swinging her legs over his back and locking her ankles around his neck. She wrapped an arm around his throat and flicked her wrist, revealing her sword. She pressed the blade under the river god's chin.

"Let⎯us⎯go." She put all of her anger into her command. "Now!"

Sure, there were many flaws to her plan. The god could dissolve into water. Or he could pull her under and try to make her drown (which would fail). But her confidence and anger worked. Or maybe Achelous was too surprised to think straight. He probably wasn't used to being threatened by girls.

Jason was free from the water. He rolled onto the banks and sucked in a deep breath, pushing himself to stand as the dark clouds over the bank thickened, thunder booming. Malia gave him a look that read not yet. She still had to get out of the river without getting electrocuted.

Malia shoved the blade harder into his neck as he tried to move. "Be a good bull."

"You promised," Achelous said through gritted teeth. "You promised Hercules wouldn't get my horn."

"And he won't," Malia said. "But did I ever say that I wouldn't?"

She raised her sword and slashed off the god's horn. The Celestial bronze cut through the base like it was wet clay. Achelous bellowed in rage. Before he could recover, Malia stood up on his back. With the horn in one hand and her sword in the other, she leaped for the shore.

"Jason!" she yelled.

Thank the gods, he understood. A gust of wind caught her and carried her safely over the bank. Malia hit the ground rolling as the hairs on her neck stood up. A metallic smell filled the air. She turned toward the river in time to be blinded. 

BOOM! Lightning stirred the water into a boiling cauldron, steaming and hissing with electricity. Malia blinked the yellow spots out of her eyes as the god Achelous wailed and dissolved beneath the surface. His horrified expression seemed to be asking: How could you?

Normally, Malia would feel bad. But she didn't.

"Jason, run!" She was still dizzy and angry, but she and Jason crashed through the woods.

As she climbed the hill, clasping the bull's horn to her chest, Malia felt her anger subside. Relief flooded her system as they got further away from the river and the god. They'd done it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

They didn't stop until they reached the crest of the hill. 

Malia finally took a deep breath and fell into Jason's hold, the boy happy that she was alive after facing off with a god. Not like he'd doubted her, he never did, but he was scared.

"Let's get this stupid horn to your idiot of a half brother so we can get going," she said, out of breath.

Jason nodded and they began walking again. "What are we doing with the horn?"

"I don't wanna give it to Hercules," she admitted. "He'll use it as a trophy or something, but us? We could use it for good. Like it's meant to be used. And besides, technically Hercules told us to bring him the horn, not give it to him. So . . . loophole?"

Jason chuckled and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "Tell me you have a plan."

She grinned. "Oh yeah."

"Is it a good plan?"

"Don't ask me that when you know the answer."

"Lovely."

Hercules was waiting right where they'd left him. He was staring at the Argo II, docked between the pillars as the sun set behind it. The ship looked okay, but Malia's plan had started to feel a bit insane. But when weren't her plans insane?

Too late to reconsider. She'd already sent an Iris-message to Leo. Jason was prepared. And, seeing Hercules again, she felt more certain than ever she couldn't give him what he wanted.

Hercules didn't exactly brighten when he saw Malia carrying the bull's horn, but his scowl lines lessened.

"Good," he said. "You got it. In that case, you are free to go."

Malia glanced at Jason. "You heard him. He gave us permission." She turned back to the god. "That means our ship will be able to pass into the Mediterranean?"

"Yes, yes." Hercules snapped his fingers. "Now, the horn."

"No," Malia said.

The god frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Did I fucking stutter?" Malia asked condescendingly. She raised the cornucopia. Since she'd cut it from Achelous's head, the horn had hollowed out, becoming smooth and dark on the inside. It didn't appear magical, but Malia was counting on its power. "Achelous was right. You're his curse as much as he is yours. You are a sorry excuse for a hero and an even worse excuse for a god."

Hercules stared at her as if she were speaking Japanese. "You realize I could kill you with a flick of my finger," he said. "I could throw my club at your ship and cut straight through its hull. I could⎯"

"You could shut the fuck up," Jason said. He flipped the coin concealing his weapons, sword appearing in hand. "Maybe Zeus is different from Jupiter. Because I wouldn't put up with any brother who acts like you."

The veins on Hercules's neck turned as purple as his robes. "You would not be the first demigod I've killed."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Blah, blah, blah. You're a murderer, we get it. Anyways, Jason is better than you. But don't worry, we're not going to fight you. You'd lose, trust me." She grinned. "We're going to leave this island with the horn. You don't deserve it as a prize. I'm going to keep it, to remind me of what not to be like as a demigod. Also to rub it in my brother's face since he did the same thing about the Minotaur horn. And I'm going to keep it to remind me of poor Achelous and Deianira, who had poor taste in men."

The god's nostrils flared. "Do not mention that name! You can't seriously think I'm worried about your puny boyfriend. No one in stronger than me."

"Who said stronger?" Malia asked. "I said he's better."

Malia pointed the mouth of the horn at Hercules. She let go of the resentment and anger she'd been harboring since stepping on this island. She concentrated on all the good things she'd shared with Jason Grace, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and all her friends back at camp. Her mother, father, Paul, friends. Everything. 

The horn blasted forth a flood of food as powerful as Achelous's river. A torrent of fresh fruit, baked goods, and smoked hams completely buried Hercules. Malia didn't understand how all that stuff could fit through the entrance of the horn, but she thought the hams were especially appropriate.

When it had spewed out enough goodies to fill a house, the horn shut itself off. Malia heard Hercules shrieking and struggling somewhere underneath. Apparently even the strongest god in the world could be caught off guard when buried under fresh produce.

She lowered the horn and stuck her finger up at the god. "That was for Zoë!" She turned to Jason. "Go!" she told him, rolling her eyes as he shook off his obvious surprise. "Go!"

He grabbed Malia's waist and summoned the wind. They shot away from the island so quickly, Malia almost got whiplash; but it wasn't a second too soon.

As the island retreated from view, Hercules's head broke above the mound of goodies. Half a coconut was stuck on his noggin like a war helmet. "Kill!" he bellowed, like he'd had a lot of practice saying it.

Jason touched down on the deck of the Argo II. Thankfully, Leo had done his part. The ship's oars were already in aerial mode. The anchor was up. Jason summoned a gale so strong, it pushed them into the sky, while Malia and Percy sent a ten-foot-tall wave against the shore, knocking Hercules down a second a second time, in a cascade of seawater and pineapples.

By the time the god regained his feet and started lobbing coconuts at them from far below, the Argo II was already sailing through the clouds above the Mediterranean.

"Never again," Malia said, looking at her friends. "Never. Again."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𝐀 𝐔 𝐓 𝐇 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒   𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄   !

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Long. Ass. Chapter. But Malia was a badass in this chapter and there is finally a nickname change from Hercules to Sparky, because we all saw that happening. Hercules is an asshole and I'm glad Malia put him in his place. And I like how Jason and Malia were a bit carefree in this chapter. Things between them are settling down again after their heart-to-heart moment and I'm living for it.

Next chapter is the battle with that stupid pirate. I'm gonna have a lot of fun making some changes to the chapter and twisting some stuff to make it more appealing. That pirate and his stupid dolphin warriors are gonna get what's coming for them and I'm super pumped for it.

Please comment and vote!

Love you all!

~ a.h.