CHAPTER NINE

B E T W E E N  T H E  C O N C E P T I O N  A N D  T H E  C R E A T I O N

• • •

Breakfast was an interesting affair, to say the least. The group of demigods flocked to the wooden table in the kitchen and seemed to eat whatever they desired. This morning, a half-eaten loaf of bread sat in front of Cameron, who was occupied reading something. Drew was nursing her third cup of coffee and seemed set on finishing it before Clarisse finished up whatever story she was telling her. Clarisse was eating an entire plate of bacon and she refused to share it with anyone. Esperanza was happily eating her way through a box of donuts that had miraculously appeared overnight, the powdered sugar giving her a faux mustache. In the center of it all, Chris sat beside Cameron, calmly eating a bowl of cereal.

Chris noticed Annabeth first, as she stood awkwardly in the doorway, uncertain if she should walk in or just turn around and go back to sleep. He offered her a genuine smile and gestured to the box of cereal that sat in front of him.

"I think I'm the only one willing to share," he said with a wink.

Cameron looked up and something like alarm flashed over his face before it smoothed over. He gave her a quick smile as he tore off a chunk of bread.

"Good morning!" Drew greeted cheerfully, pouring herself another cup of coffee, "I hope we didn't wake you."

They had, in all honesty, but Annabeth wasn't complaining; the jubilant noise of domesticity accompanied with the scent of bacon was a much more welcome interruption of sleep than anything that she had encountered in the cellar. She grabbed the bowl that Chris offered her and slowly poured cereal into it.

"We were just talking about our plan," Clarisse said gruffly, "or our lack thereof."

Drew playfully punched the other girl's shoulder. "We have a plan!"

"We have half of a plan," Chris corrected calmly, "which is still better than nothing."

Clarisse shrugged and bit into a new piece of bacon. Meanwhile, Esperanza lifted yet another donut into her mouth, unaware of the dusting of powdered sugar that fell to the table.

"We'll probably leave here in a few days," Cameron added, eyes flickering up to Annabeth. "That way, we can find Olympus and the other demigods before figuring out a larger course of action."

"What other course of action is there?" Annabeth asked before she spooned cereal and milk into her mouth, surprised by how good it tasted.

"We're going to kill Her," Esperanza informed her through a mouthful of donut.

The happy buzz of conversation died, but Esperanza didn't seem to notice. Annabeth certainly did notice the glance that Drew and Cameron exchanged, but she stayed silent.

"Uh, yeah," Cameron stammered, "that's basically the plan. But that's not a lot to go off of, obviously. So we need a better plan."

"At least the prophecy gives us something to go off of," Drew said, "we know we're looking for thirteen other demigods."

Annabeth frowned. "The prophecy says fourteen total."

Drew nodded, a feat not easy to accomplish while taking a sip of coffee. "Exactly. That's you and the rest of the Seven, then seven more. Olympus is as good a place as any to start looking."

"Wouldn't you four be part of that?" Annabeth asked. Silence greeted her question and she blinked at them in confusion. "What? You all have the mark of Hera; wouldn't that make you part of it?"

"Huh," said Cameron, his expression completely dumbfounded. "I guess I didn't think of it like that."

"How else did you think it?"

Drew glanced at Cameron, almost nervously. "It's weird, to think about us being heroes. We've been double agents, for lack of a better word, and I still don't know if Olympus will accept us, seeing as we've been posing as Her trusted lackeys for years."

"But you've been working against Her all this time, haven't you? You rescued Esperanza and I; shouldn't that be enough to convince them?"

"It should be," Chris said reassuringly, glancing over at Cameron.

A nervous silence followed, which Annabeth awkwardly broke occasionally through bites of cereal. Her crunching reverberated against the walls.

"To be completely honest," Cameron said, his eyes nervously flickering up to Annabeth and back down to the ground, "I wasn't sure we would ever find you."

Annabeth allowed the silence between them to grow; what was she expected to say to that? She had spent years wallowing in hopelessness, and she had never once expected to be rescued.

"I can't promise you anything," she said finally, "but I can offer my testament, if these 'Seven' truly need it. I can testify that all of you rescued me, and that I would still be trapped in that cellar if it wasn't for you."

Another silence developed, but this was more comforting than the first. The words had felt awkward leaving Annabeth's mouth, but they seemed to be significant to the others.

"Maybe it's just been a few too many rough years, but that might be the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me," Drew said, fake sniffling and dabbing at her eyes.

Clarisse elbowed her. "I saved your life a week ago!"

Drew winked. "Sorry, Claire, Annabeth's got you beat."

Clarisse shouted in outrage, and all the graveness that had accompanied the breakfast was shattered and replaced by this comfortable atmosphere. Annabeth allowed herself to sink into it and merely exist beside the people who had saved her life.

Esperanza, having abandoned her donuts, made her way to sit beside Annabeth. Despite everything, it felt natural to have Esperanza near her; they had escaped the cellar, but this still felt right.

"I know you're scared," Esperanza murmured quietly enough for the words to only be audible for Annabeth, "but everything is going to be okay. You just have to trust me."

Puzzled, Annabeth frowned at the girl. She opened her mouth to ask one of her thousands of questions, but before she could even form a syllable, a loud noise from outside the house interrupted her. A buzzing sound filled the room, and Drew shot up immediately, as did Clarisse.

"Something tripped the alarm," Drew said unnecessarily. "There's something here."

The comforable atmosphere evaporated immediately. Cameron was the next to stand, grabbing the sword that had been discarded beside the table. "Hide Annabeth and Esperanza," he instructed, "I'll go figure out what it is."

"I'll come, too," said Drew, grabbing a knife from the chest by the window.

"So will I," Chris said immediately, his hand reaching out for Cameron's arm. But Cameron stepped away, shaking his head.

"No," Cameron said firmly, "I'll go alone."

And with that, he left silently, never looking back. Chris stared after him, a foreign expression on his face. For a second, it seemed familiar to Annabeth, but before she could identify it, Drew tugged at her sleeve.

"Come on," Drew instructed to both her and Esperanza. They abandoned their food and followed her down the hall and to a door. Drew opened it, revealing a long staircase that upwards. Grabbing Esperanza's hand, she began to ascend.

• • •

The hour was cloaked in darkness, the golden rays of the Sun hidden beyond the horizon, and Hazel knew that once Olympus was casted in light, she would have to leave. Annabeth and Percy were somewhere out there, and it didn't matter that there had been dozens of failed quests to find them; it was Hazel's turn to leave Olympus and she refused to return without either demigod.

Hazel couldn't blame Frank for being nervous; she was beyond anxious herself, but she didn't let it show. How could she? With everyone else willingly leaving the safety of Olympus on futile missions without a second thought, Hazel knew she didn't have the right to do anything less than them. Safety was a privilege, one that demanded sacrifice. But as Frank pulled her closer to his body, Hazel selfishly wished that she wouldn't have to pay the price. At least, not now.

"I'm going to be alright," she murmured to the thick darkness, knowing all too well that Frank was still awake. Neither of them had been able to fall asleep.

"I know," he said." They both knew it was a lie; nothing was certain anymore.

"I'll be back before you can even miss me," Hazel continued, pretending not to feel the way Frank's hand gripped onto her own like she was the only real thing in the world.

"I already miss you," he murmured softly in her ear. "You're right here, beside me, and I miss you."

Hazel's heart constricted inside her chest. She yearned to stay here, in the safety of their tent, laying with Frank. But this was their life. The uncertainty, the sacrifice, the risk; that was the price they paid for a chance at tomorrow. Because if they didn't pay the price, then there would be no one else who would.

"I can't stop thinking about the prophecy," Frank whispered, "about what they could mean for us. All of us."

Hazel's stomach twisted violently. She couldn't stop thinking about the prophecies either. Fourteen to nine, Rachel had said. Were five demigods really to die? Five demigods that Hazel knew and loved? The thought was too horrible to bear.

"I've been thinking about it. Well, one word in particular. Lost. I think that's about Annabeth, so she must still be alive."

Annabeth. Hazel still wasn't used to thinking about her being alive. Inside her heart, she had hoped it to be true, but war kills hope faster than people. But Annabeth was alive, and Hazel was going to find her.

"It makes sense," Hazel said slowly, "she's been missing for years; you could call her lost."

"I'm worried about the part of the prophecy about death," Frank said, his voice small.

A chill settled over Hazel. "Prophecies are never clear, Frank. They have double meanings and tricky wording. We can't really understand them until they play out."

"Yeah," said Frank, but he sounded doubtful.

Death. There had been so much death in the past few years. Didn't they deserve a break from it all? Didn't the Fates owe them at least that much? Instead of the relentless battle that never seemed to end, the infinite war that stretched before them on a blood-stained horizon? Didn't they, the heroes who had sacrificed everything, deserve an answer instead of more battles and questions? Didn't they deserve a why?

Hazel rolled over on the bed so that she was facing Frank. He smiled at her and she smiled back at him. Frank had become home, more than any place ever could. Frank was her why, her sole reason for fighting the fight. Without him, life would have faded into an endless sea of preparing and fighting and killing for war. But he was her light in the darkness, her anchor in the stormy seas. He was her why and her everything.

"You should get some sleep," he said, a concerned look flashing in his dark eyes. As if he didn't have a clue about the thoughts racing through her mind.

Hazel released a small laugh. "It's less than an hour until the Sun rises. I don't think sleep will do much for me at this point."

"Do you even remember where you're going? Where to find them?"

"Miami, remember?" she grinned.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Miami's a big place, Hazel. And a dangerous one. You can't just ride Arion around there and expect it to be that easy."

"It's never that easy," she sighed. Frank pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and a warm feeling of contentment ran through Hazel. "But I'll be fine, Frank. If anything goes wrong, Arion and I will just run away from it at the speed of sound."

He cracked a small smile. "Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better."

Conversation faded as the tent slowly lightened, the Sun finally beginning its ascent. Frank kissed her softly, and Hazel poured every ounce of love and happiness that she possessed into the kiss. More than anything, she didn't want this to be their last. She didn't want any of this to be their last.

They deserved a thousand more nights, a thousand more kissed. They deserved an eternity of safety and happiness. But what you deserve isn't always what you get.

"I should go," Hazel said, pulling away from the warm embrace.

"You should stay," Frank sighed, but Hazel was already slipping from the warm blankets and into the cold morning.

She padded over to where she had laid out her armor and bag the day before, and silently got dressed, fully aware that Frank was standing up behind her.

"You can go back to bed, Frank," Hazel said over her shoulder as the slid her sword into place on her belt.

Frank pulled on a faded SPQR t-shirt. "I will if you do."

Lacing up her battered boots, Hazel took one last sweeping look of their shared tent. It was small, yes, with enough room for a bed and not much else. But it had become home. Their home.

Hazel told herself that this wouldn't be the last time that she would see it. But an ominous voice in the back of her mind told her differently.

"Is Nico seeing you off?" Frank asked, his hand reaching for Hazel's. She accepted it, glad to feel the familiar callouses of his hand brush against her own.

"Yes. Look out for him, will you? He's already worried sick about Will; I don't want him to be worried about me, too."

Frank released a small laugh. "It's kind of impossible not to worry. But I'll be there for him."

She gave him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand. Frank squeezed back, and Hazel never wanted to let go.

But she did.

Hazel pulled the bag over her shoulder and opened the flap of the tent, squinting in the golden light of the rising Sun. Frank was right behind her, his warmth alerting her to his presence.

"You don't have to follow me, Frank," Hazel said, but she knew the effort of trying to stop him was fruitless.

"And let you leave without saying goodbye?"

Together, they walked from their tent, from the only place of safety Hazel had grown to know, and towards the uncertain future. Or, more specifically, to where Arion stood at the base of the hill, glaring at Hazel as if upset that she was late.

"I'm here now," she muttered to him.

"He's been standing like that for an hour," a new voice said, stepping out of the shadows. Nico smiled sadly at his little sister.

"Have you been standing there for an hour?" Hazel asked with a laugh, but the question was laced with concern.

Nico shrugged, his dark eyes looking over Hazel's shoulder. He was doing that more and more, Hazel had noticed. Staring as if he wasn't really there, as if he could see things no one else could. She frowned at the paleness of her brother's skin, at the purple bruises beneath his eyes. Worry was slowly killing the Healer, and he didn't seem to care. But Nico was searching for his why, in the same way that Hazel was dreading leaving her own.

"You need sleep," Hazel finally said, "sleep and food."

"Will you ever stop worrying?" he asked, pulling her in for a hug. There was a slight smirk on his face, but his eyes were anxious and dark. Humor had become a stranger to the son of darkness.

Nico's hands pressed deeply in Hazel's back, as if he was scared that something would snatch her away from him. But she hugged him back just as tightly. More than anything, Hazel knew how terrified Nico was of losing someone without saying goodbye.

"I will when you do," she retorted gently, slowly pulling herself away from the hug. "Don't worry about me; Arion and I will be just fine."

Nico said nothing and continued to stare at the lightening horizon.

Hazel turned to Frank, who had tears forming in his eyes. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. He placed his hands on the back of her neck and deepened the kiss, holding Hazel close to him.

Frank pulled away eventually, but kept his face close to Hazel's. "Come back to me," he whispered, something that sounded like desperation coating his words.

She smiled and kissed him again. "Death itself couldn't keep me away."

And with that, Hazel nimbly mounted Arion, who released a whinny of contentment. She looked down at the two men who were both staring sadly up at her. "Don't worry too much while I'm gone, alrightt?" she called down with a smile.

"Come back quickly," was all Frank said.

"I love you both," Hazel said before digging her knees into Arion's side.

And just like that, the golden-eyed girl disappeared, with nothing but a lingering breeze showing that she had ever been there at all.

"She'll come back," Frank said aloud, more attempting to convince himself more than the son of shadows.

"Yeah," Nico said in response. But his eyes were fixed on the rising Sun, searching for the image of a golden-haired boy returning home. An air of hopelessness surrounded the son of death and the son of war as they waited for a triumphant return, of either a lost demigod or a lost lover. They waited for the return of their why's.

But the return would never come.

• • •