CHAPTER TEN

F A L L S  T H E  S H A D O W

• • •

Sometimes, Cameron debated if this was all worth it. If serving as a double agent for a wrathful goddess was ever worth the risk and daily anxiety. Sometimes, like being one of the people to save Annabeth after two years, he thought it was well-worth it.

But at times like these, he didn't believe it for one second.

He walked outside the house, alone, his sword casually swinging by his side. Whatever tripped the alarm can be nothing but bad news, and frankly, Cameron is exhausted of bad news. But the gods never cared what Cameron wanted, so he begrudgingly made his way to the edge of the property.

That's when Cameron found himself facing a hellhound with a rider perched atop the dark beast. He didn't recognize the rider, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe the rider was unimportant.

The rider grinned when he saw Cameron, and it filled Cameron's gut with tension. Something was wrong.

"My lady sensed a disturbance emitted from this place," the rider said stiffly, seemingly sniffing at the air, "I was sent to investigate."

Cameron forced his expression to remain neutral albeit confused. "I felt no such disturbance."

The rider leered down at him, his eyes every bit as dark as the hellhound's matted fur. He tilted his head, and the hellhound copied the motion. "Then you won't mind us searching the premises."

This was a trap.

But Cameron plastered a stiff smile to his face. "Not at all; anything to serve my queen."

The rider grinned at home and ushered the hellhound to walk past Cameron and into the house. Cameron forced the bland smile to stay on his face as the rider and beast stalked past him. He inhaled deeply. Here goes nothing. As soon as the rider's back was turned, Cameron slashed his sword against the hellhound's hind leg, not hesitating to cut the other one as well. The hellhound whimpered in pain before snarling. Both dog and rider faced Cameron now, the blood dripping from his sword clear evidence of treason.

All I have to do is keep them from Shadowtraveling away and telling her royal bitchiness. Easy enough.

Drew's face peered down at them from the roof, and even from where Cameron stood, her stone-faced anxiety was clear to see. The rider had his back turned to her, so he would never know that Drew was associated with this, too. That was good; better for Cameron to take the fall than the others. But he still had to warn them.

"Go!" he shouted. "Take her and run!"

If Cameron appreciated nothing else about Drew, he appreciated her speed. She frowned at him sadly, nodded her head once, and ducked behind the roof's edge all before the rider turned to find whomever Cameron was addressing. Cameron grinned and went to attack the hellhound while the rider was distracted. The hellhound growled menacingly as Cameron sliced its paw, but strangely, it did not attack.

The hellhound's noise caught the rider's attention and he turned to glare down at Cameron. "What have you done, son of Hermes?"

But Cameron just smiled. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

"You will regret this."

Cameron shrugged. "Maybe. But you'll be too dead to care."

Not for the first time, he was grateful for Chris. Chris and his affinity for plants; Chris who provided Cameron the poison that coated his sword and was now seeping into the hellhound's bloodstream. But with the way the hellhound was snarling at him, Cameron was beginning to doubt that would be enough.

He was a demigod, so this was not the first time that he had stared death in the eyes. This was far from the first time that he was intimately aware of his own mortality. But the air was thick with humidity and finality as Cameron raised his sword, possibly for the last time. Perhaps, if he were a braver man, then he would have said something to Chris before he left. But he had never been known for his bravery.

And so, sword in hand, Cameron thought of Chris, the last fleeting graze of a touch on his arm that had been their final goodbye. As far as final thoughts go, Cameron reckoned he could have done worse.

"This is going to end well," he muttered to himself.

Then, he threw himself at the hellhound.

• • •

This was not the worst day that Annabeth had ever had. Of course, that wasn't saying much; up until a few days ago, her life had been limited to a single room cast in eternal darkness. Still, at the rate that this day was going, things were not looking good.

Drew was leading them along some form of an escape route. She kept throwing paranoid glances over her shoulder, silently count the amount of people following her, then face forwards again, knife held out in front of her. The anxiety in the air was palpable, but Annabeth couldn't think of any way to comfort them, so she travelled in silence. Esperanza was holding onto her sleeve, but it seemed to be more for Annabeth's benefit than the younger girl's. Clarisse was directly behind them and Annabeth could practically feel the girl glaring as they walked. Chris was bringing up the rear. He was carrying a large backpack; they had clearly planned for a quick evacuation in advance.

They were on the run, that much was clear. Annabeth wasn't quite sure what or who they were running from at the moment, but it was urgent, urgent enough for them to leave Cameron behind.

They were weaving through what was once a city, but now was an abandoned hellscape. Some buildings were completely decimated, leaving only a foundation behind. Others were partially destructed, concrete still standing and metal still arching towards the sky. But some building were completely intact, though it was obvious that they were abandoned. The city was a ghost town but Annabeth doubted that the demigods were the only ones haunting it.

"We should try to get out of the city before the Sun sets," Clarisse said gruffly, her voice just loud enough for Drew to hear.

Drew nodded once, the movement sudden and sharp. "I know. We can't afford to stop until then."

"There was only one hellhound," Chris voiced from behind Annabeth, "that means we might be able to get away without any trouble."

It seemed that the world had a cruel, twisted sense of humor. No sooner than the words had left Chris' mouth, the sky darkened. The small group of demigods immediately halted to look up at the sky.

A large shadow was twisting in front of the Sun. It moved like smoke, elegant and smooth, before plunging to the ground, landing a few dozen feet away from the group.

Annabeth's mouth grew dry as sunlight once again illuminated the city. Drew rolled her eyes and voiced the inner thoughts of the group: "this can't be good."

Annabeth wholeheartedly agreed with this sentiment as soon as the shadow dissipated to reveal Willow, looking every bit as cruel and beautiful as the last time Annabeth had seen her.

Her grin was as sharp as the dagger in her hand. "It's a pity about Cameron; I had a pleasure of witnessing his death. He died screaming."

Clarisse had already thrown the spear in her hand at Willow before she finished her sentence. But for all of Clarisse's speed and deadly accuracy, Willow side stepped the projectile as if it were nothing more than a pesky bug. Willow's smile remained smugly on her face.

"Hello, Annabeth," she purred, "Dalos has missed your company dreadfully. But I promised to return you to him, and I never break a promise."

Her mouth was already dry, but Willow's words made her throat feel like sandpaper. Esperanza's grip on Annabeth's hand tightened and Annabeth remembered what Esperanza had done the last time they ran into Willow. Annabeth squeezed the younger girl's hand and made a promise to herself: she would die before she returned to the cellar.

"You still have time to leave," Drew said sweetly to the equally beautiful girl. "Spare yourself the humiliation this time."

Willow's eyes darted to Esperanza and something in her green gaze flickered. But her voice was steady as she responded, "I'm not a coward unlike you lot."

"Whatever you do," Chris murmured to Annabeth, "don't get too close to Willow."

"Don't worry," Esperanza said before Annabeth had the chance to respond, "I won't let her."

The "her" in question was unclear, but there was no time for explanations; Drew, Clarisse, and Chris wordlessly charged forwards with the ease that came with fighting with each other for years.

Willow did not look afraid. If anything, she was amused at the display. "The world could do with a few less traitors in it."

And with that, the shadow falls.

• • •

In the middle of the sea, there was a small island. It could not be found on any map, but it existed all the same. The Sun shined brightly here and birds flew lazily, dipping alongside the horizon. And on the shore of this island was a single raft.

Calypso had spent thousands of years on this island and she had not left it. She no longer held onto the foolish hope that she would ever be able to leave, but Calypso was still an optimist at heart.

Routine was the only thing that Calypso could hold onto, so she was just beginning her daily walk along the shore that she embarked upon after eating lunch. Sometimes, she collected sea shells or helped any stranded sea turtles. But on days like today, she was happy just to walk and stare silently out at the sea while the wind danced next to her.

The raft's existence was not immediately noticeable. It was tucked into a small cove, so at first, Calypso's eyes skipped right over it in the same way that her eyes skipped over the endless sea of clouds. Then, her mind caught up with her eyes and the titaness did something that she had not done in a long time: she laughed, loudly and surprised. It was a raft.

She had to touch it to be real, that was the promise she made to herself. If she touched it and could feel it, then it was real and not a dream that she would have to force herself to wake up from. So, Calypso waded into the small cove, careful to avoid the sharp rocks that littered the ground. She outreached her hand and it brushed against a wooden plank. It was real.

She laughed again, startling the small school of fish that had swarmed around her. "Holy Hera," she swore softly.

Calypso stumbled out of the water, far less cautious than she had been mere moments earlier. This was real; Percy could finally leave.

Sand collected on the bottom of her wet feet as she ran back down the path that lead to her home. She shouted his name as she ran, though she suspected that he was training. Birds scattered from her path, but she didn't care like she normally would.

Calypso found Percy a little past their home, clearly in the middle of sparring with a tree. Sweat ran down his temple as he frowned in confusion at Calypso, Riptide lazily held in his hand.

"What?" he asked, his sea-green eyes scanning for trouble behind Calypso.

But she grinned widely at him, eliminating the possibility of danger. "There's a raft," she said breathlessly, "on the shore. It's for you."

His frown evaporated into an expression of incredulity. "What?" he repeated.

Calypso grabbed the hand that wasn't holding Riptide and pulled him behind her. They ran back to the shore, fueled by hope and desperation.

The raft was still there and Calypso could have cried at the sight of it; part of her was worried that if she stopped looking at it, for even a second, then it would cease to be real. But it was there.

"It's real," Percy stammered.

"It's real," Calypso confirmed.

The demigod's face erupted into a wide grin. He grabbed Calypso and swung her around. "We're getting out of here!" he cheered.

Calypso grinned as he sat her down gently back onto the sand. "You're getting out of here," she reminded him. "I'm stuck here, remember?"

Percy shook his head. "Nope. I refuse to let you stay here alone. If I'm going, then you're going too; I don't care what gods I have to fight."

Calypso rolled her eyes; she had surrendered all ounces of hope of her ever leaving this island. But that had also been before she met Percy Jackson, the man who somehow discovered Ogygia twice. If she had to place her hope in anyone, it would be him.

The next few hours passed in a flurry of motion. They packed everything that they could carry on the raft. Percy insisted on packing all of Calypso's most treasured possessions and though she protested, she allowed him. Percy's hope was contagious and Calypso found herself beginning to catch it.

The Sun was beginning to set once they had finished packing. Percy had pulled the raft from the cove and was knee deep in the water. His hair stuck to his forehead as he turned to look back at Calypso. She remained on the sand, content to watch him leave from afar.

"Come on," he called to her with a grin. "We're getting out of here together."

But still, Calypso hesitated. Percy may be fine with angering the gods, but Calypso was not. She had accepted her punishment ages ago; she had made peace with her eternity.

"The worst that happens is you try and fail," Percy nudged. "Try, at least?"

Calypso smiled slightly. "Fine. As long as you promise to leave as soon as it doesn't work, okay?"

It was Percy's turn to roll his eyes, but he nodded his agreement. So, with a heart full of half hope and half denial, Calypso lifted her white dress to her knees and waded into the water. Percy helped her onto the raft before climbing on himself. As soon as he sat down, the raft started moving.

For a few minutes, Calypso didn't breathe; she didn't want to remind the raft that she was also aboard. But for whatever reason, the raft didn't stop. It continued to float away from Ogygia until her home was far behind them. Calypso turned back to look at it as did Percy.

"Are you happy to leave it?" Percy asked gently.

She pondered the question. It had been her home, but it was also her prison. It was beautiful, but she had never been free on it. "I am," she decided finally. "I'll miss it, but I'm glad to leave."

He nudged her playfully. "Is this the part where I say 'I told you so'?"

Calypso rolled her eyes at the hero. "Not if you know what's good for you."

Percy laughed at that, the sound carefree and much happier than she had heard him in a long time.

"So," she said as the Sun dipped below the horizon, "where exactly are we going?"

Percy's eyes flickered between the girl and the horizon as Ogygia faded away behind them. "Home," he said simply. "We're going home."

• • •

[END OF PART I]