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attack

• • •

It hadn't even been one hour, yet Hazel was already miserable.

No, miserable was the wrong word. There was always a unique sense of freedom that she felt whenever riding Arion, and that freedom felt a lot like happiness. Hazel wasn't miserable; she would just rather be riding back towards Frank rather than away from him.

But this was her mission, and she wasn't going to fail it. More than that, she wasn't going to fail Annabeth.

Wind rushed through Hazel's hair at an impossible speed as Arion ran across the ocean, the water not slowing him down one bit. Hazel checked over her shoulder to make sure the chariot strapped to Arion remained intact. It slowed Arion's speed slightly, but it was necessary; Hazel wasn't exactly sure how many people she was saving. Luckily, the straps were tight, and the chariot flew behind them like a stream of golden fire.

It wouldn't take much longer to reach Miami, but there was always an added element of danger whenever a demigod walked on the Earth; She always seemed to find them. Hazel's plan was to get in and out of the formerly heavily populated city as fast as possible. It made the mission more difficult that she didn't know exactly where she'd be meeting Annabeth, but with Arion's speed, Hazel wasn't worried about spending too long searching for her.

The wind burned at Hazel's eyes, but she refused to close them. Mist sprayed up from the ocean, keeping both horse and girl cool beneath the hot Sun. For a second, she allowed herself to relish in this feeling of freedom, to fall into this blissful sense of happiness. She smiled fearlessly into the wind.

But they were at war. And war refused to wait on happiness. So Hazel forced the moment to end, and dug her knees into Arion's side.

More than anything, Hazel feared that she'd be too late to save Annabeth.

• • •

Annabeth feared that it was too late. Their trek to the edge of Miami was noticeably missing Cameron, and anxiety invaded every one of Annabeth's thoughts.

She chewed on her lip as she walked forwards, following closely behind Clarisse. Annabeth's lip was bleeding and it stung, but she couldn't stop herself from continuing to bite it. And everyone else seemed too exhausted to notice.

The strange goat/man named Grover had long since fallen silence. Over the first few days, he had attempted to speak to Annabeth, expecting her to remember the past life she had apparently had. The thought of it alone made her grit her teeth; didn't they know that forgetting wasn't her choice? That if she could remember, she would have already chosen to do so? Certainly her memories would tell her why everyone expected so much from her, why everyone winced when Annabeth asked questions.

Two days ago, Grover had brought up that name again. Percy. There had been a horrified look on his face when Annabeth asked him who that was.

"It's Percy," Grover had said, visibly troubled. "You've known him since you were like twelve. And you've been dating since you were sixteen. Annabeth, it's Percy."

Annabeth didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't know how old she was. So she had merely fallen silent, and Grover had quickly done the same. Now, Annabeth couldn't remember when she had spoken last.

Annabeth stumbled, and ran into Clarisse. She had started to mumble an apology when the other girl turned to glare at her.

Clarisse's brown eyes held an urgency that Annabeth had grown to recognize. Danger was near.

Behind Annabeth, she heard the unmistakable sound of metal. She turned to find that Drew, despite not yet being fully healed, had drawn a long knife and was scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Annabeth frowned; something about this felt scarily familiar.

Clarisse's gaze snapped to something behind Annabeth. Her dark eyes widened in horror, and the fearless, stoic girl's lips parted to scream one word.

"Run!"

Clarisse was already sprinting away, and Annabeth quickly did the same. She didn't waste time to look over her shoulder at whatever they were running from; if it scared Clarisse, then Annabeth was more than happy to run away from it.

So Annabeth ran. But all too soon, she was gasping for air, her lungs burning with every breath. She couldn't remember the last time she had ran this fast for this long, but her legs ached.

Then, she heard a scream.

Annabeth made the mistake of looking behind her. Drew was on the ground, struggling to stand up. She was clutching at her stomach, and an alarming amount of blood seeped through her fingers. There was pain written across Drew's beautiful face, but there was determination there, too.

But behind Drew was more than a dozen armored people running for them, and even more were riding atop winged horses above the treetops.

Annabeth had stopped running with the intention of going back to help Drew. But a firm grip grabbed at her arm, and practically shoved her to the side.

"No," growled Clarisse. "Everyone else keep going. I'll cover Drew."

Clarisse stalked past Annabeth, her spear in hand. Grover gave Annabeth a terrified look, which Annabeth didn't return.

"Come on, Annabeth," Chris said quietly, pulling gently at Annabeth's arm. "We need to go."

Fear settled over Annabeth as the attackers were rapidly closing in. But something felt wrong about leaving Drew and Clarisse behind.

"No," Annabeth said firmly. "I'm not leaving them. We already left Cameron behind; I'm not leaving them, too."

The look on Chris' face was pained. "They'll be fine, Clarisse is an amazing fighter. But we have to go, now, if we want to be safe."

Annabeth could have laughed. "There's at least twenty of them, and you think Clarisse will be able to hold them all off? No, Chris, I'm not going to leave anyone else behind."

It had been Drew who had saved her from that dark, cold, awful place. And Annabeth wasn't going to abandon her.

"Then you'll need this," said Chris, handing her a sharp dagger. Annabeth accepted it wordlessly, her hand wrapping around the hilt with a sense of familiarity.

A sharp clang filled the air as the first attacked had reached Clarisse. Her spear had reflected harmlessly off his shield, and the attacker lowered his sword. Clarisse evaded it before striking again, this time succeeding in slicing across his stomach.

"Don't fight unless necessary," Chris warned Annabeth while stepping forwards to help Clarisse. "I don't want you to get hurt."

But the knife felt so familiar in her hand. Annabeth felt more at ease now than she had since Drew rescued her.

Chris joined the fight, throwing a knife at an attacker who was nocking an arrow to shoot at Clarisse. Drew remained crumpled at Clarisse's feet, unmoving as a battle occurred around her.

Grover had pulled out what appeared to be a musical instrument and began to play it. Annabeth frowned, not exactly sure of his intentions. But above her head, she watched as thick vines grew and connected the tree canopies, making it impossible for the winged attackers to reach them.

But still, three against twelve were not good odds. So Annabeth stepped forwards, knife in hand, fully prepared to engage in a fight. One of the attackers took notice of her and a dark grin spread across her face. The attacker was a girl, appearing to be not much older than Annabeth. She had long blonde hair and a dangerous smile as she stared at Annabeth. Uneasiness blossomed in her stomach as the girl stepped around Drew, effortlessly evading the reach of Clarisse's spear.

Annabeth held the knife in front of her from memory that her muscles and not her mind remembered. The girl smirked, the expression fitting perfectly on her beautiful face.

"Hello, Annabeth Chase," the girl purred, a dagger held in each hand.

"Do you expect me to know you?" Annabeth asked, wary at the thought of trying to explain her amnesia to yet another person.

The girl laughed. "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you before now. But I've dreamed of nothing else for years."

There was something dark in the girl's vibrant green eyes, something that wasn't from this world. Something that made Annabeth hold the knife tighter in her hand.

The girl noticed the movement and grinned wickedly. "Allow me to introduce myself, Annabeth. My name is Willow Livingston, and I am everything you have ever feared. I possess a greater power than any of the titans, even Kronos. And I am infinitely more powerful than Gaea."

Gaea. That name was familiar, and it sent a sharp shiver down her spine.

Annabeth glanced over Willow Livingston, and found that Clarisse was struggling to fend off three attackers at once while Chris had two. Grover was feverishly playing his pipes, causing vines to hold back the other attackers from advancing. But it didn't look like they would last much longer.

"What do you want?" Annabeth finally asked.

"I want everything, Annabeth. And there are just a few people that stand in my way, you being one of them. I was hoping your boyfriend would be with you, so I could eliminate you both at once. Alas, it seems I'll have to join the quest to find the lost hero. But that will have to wait until after I kill you."

A surge of confidence ran through Annabeth. She straightened up and smiled at Willow. "You can try," she said grimly.

Willow grinned back. "Let's see if you're really as good as legends say, Wisdom's Daughter."

Quicker than Annabeth's eyes could follow, Willow attacked. But she managed to evade the first attack by leaping to the left, remaining just  far enough away to be out of Willow's reach. With a growl, the girl attacked again, knives slashing at the front of Annabeth's shirt. Using her own dagger, she pushed Willow's knife away from her chest, and moved in for an attack of her own. Willow blocked it easily.

"You seem a bit out of practice," Willow said conversationally.

Annabeth ignored how heavily she was already panting, ignored the soreness of her muscles. She balanced on the balls of her feet, eyeing Willow's every movement cautiously.

"But I think you'll find me to be a more than worthy opponent."

Willow's smile was sharper than her blade as she lunges towards Annabeth. Her knives sliced harmlessly above Annabeth's head, but Willow managed to knock the girl off her feet. Annabeth landed on the dirt ground, the wind knocked out of her lungs. She struggled to take in a breath as Willow dug her knee into Annabeth's stomach.

"It's upsetting that you're not as talented as I was told," Willow murmured, placing one of her knives against Annabeth's throat. She allowed it to rest there, and Annabeth fought the urge to shiver at the coldness of the blade. "Wisdom's daughter dies alone."

Willow raised her blade, the tip of it aimed towards Annabeth's heart. She struggled to be released from Willow's hold, but to no avail.

Willow grinned, and all Annabeth could think was that this would be the last thing she would see. But she kept her eyes open, refusing to close them even for a second.

Then, a loud boom filled the air, and Annabeth felt a violent rush of wind run over her. Willow's smile evaporated as the girl slowly stood up, finally allowing Annabeth to scramble out of the way.

The battle was frozen, everyone ceasing their attack to stare at the newcomer. Annabeth blinked in surprise, not quite sure if what she was seeing was real.

There was a tan horse standing there, paying the group no attention as it sniffed at the grass cautiously. There was a golden chariot that the horse was pulling, but it was empty. Annabeth didn't know where it had come from; it had merely appeared.

However, Annabeth was far more interested in the girl that sat on top of the horse. Her golden eyes were staring at Annabeth with an unfamiliar expression shining in them. Something that looked like shocked hope.

The girl was pretty, with those striking golden eyes and wind-blown hair that had the audacity to look styled. She was wearing shiny golden armor that juxtaposed the worn boots on her feet.

Willow, whose presence Annabeth had completely forgotten, growled as she narrowed her eyes at the newcomer. "Demigod," she said with obvious disgust, her silver knives flashing dangerously in the sunlight. "Do you really think you, of all people, is safe enough to venture outside the safe borders of Olympus?"

The girl smiled. "I don't think it's my safety you should be worried about, daughter of darkness."

Something brushed against Annabeth's hand, and she jumped in surprise. Clarisse stepped around her, giving Annabeth a meaningful look before turning to look at the new girl.

"Levesque?" was all Clarisse said.

"Hi, Clarisse. Hope I'm not interrupting anything," the girl said with a friendly smile.

The rest of the attackers had gathered behind Willow. They stared at the blonde-haired girl, gazes full of nothing but apprehension and doubt. But Willow had neither of those expressions on her face. No, there was something more like bloodlust written there.

"You've done nothing," Willow growled, "but add yourself to the list of casualties, daughter of death. You will die here, as will the rest of them."

The girl nodded, almost sympathetically. "I'm sure you will fight your hardest."

Without warning, the girl flicked her hand. And suddenly, the trees surrounding them disappeared, as did the blue sky above them. Annabeth gasped as darkness pressed around her.

"But your hardest isn't enough to fight an Olympian," the girl's voice rang out, echoing through the void.

Then, the darkness shattered, the bright light of the Sun piercing Annabeth's gaze. She held up a hand to block her eyes.

"The darkness doesn't harm me, Hazel Levesque," Willow taunted. "It runs in my very veins."

The girl, Hazel, didn't respond. Instead, the world exploded into one of color. Annabeth managed to stumble backwards, feeling a steady hand pressing on her back. It was Chris, and he gave her a wincing smile before turning his attention back to the scene displayed before them.

All the attackers, including Willow, had golden chains vining up their limps, slowly encasing their bodies in gold.

Hazel turned to face Annabeth, Clarisse, Drew, Chris, and Grover. "Get in the chariot," she said, beaming. "We can catch up a few miles from here. But this won't hold Willow for long, and she'll be seriously unhappy when she breaks out of there."

"It's good to see you," Chris managed to say, directing Annabeth to the chariot.

All Annabeth could do was gape at the girl who caused total darkness with nothing but the flick of her wrist, the girl who encased her enemies in chains with nothing more than a thought. Hazel merely smiled widely at Annabeth.

"It's good to see all of you," Hazel said, her gaze remaining on Annabeth. "But the time for reunions isn't now."

Annabeth gripped onto the side of the chariot, the metal cold against her skin. The way Hazel looked at her made Annabeth uneasy; it was as if Hazel expected her to know who she was. But Annabeth didn't.

Pressed against Drew and Grover, Annabeth felt claustrophobic standing in the chariot, waiting for Hazel to move.

"You might want to hold on," Hazel called over her shoulder. "We're going to be moving at the speed of sound."

Annabeth frowned. The speed of sound? Then, she felt herself get jerked forwards, her grip on the chariot barely strong enough to keep her on board. The world swirled around her as a roaring boom filled her ears.

• • •