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10. a state of grace

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter ten. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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MY FIRST THOUGHT as I fell nearly 700 feet was, Wow, Percy's grip on my waist is super tight. My second thought was something more sophisticated and relevant, like AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

The water was flying at us like a semi. I shut my eyes, squeezing them as tight as I could, my face on Percy's shoulder as if he could shield me from the concrete impact we were about to hit. Wasn't it, like, a thing that hitting water from that high up would be like smacking straight into hard cement? Gods, Percy's stupid, impulsive decision should have killed us.

But it didn't. We hit the water with ease. There was a whiteout of bubbles as we sank through the murky water of the Mississippi River. Since the impact hadn't killed us, I was sure we would get buried in mud at the bottom of the river and nobody would know we were down there and we would end up stuck there forever.

Percy and I had gotten separated in the collision. I hadn't gotten to inhale in preparation of being submerged in murky waters. My lungs were burning, my legs aching as I kicked for the surface that seemed to never grow closer. I squinted against the grainy water, desperate to break surface and inhale something that wasn't mud.

Just as black spots began to dance in my vision, Percy appeared at my side, looking spritely and clean as ever. He, once again, grabbed me by the waist, and we floated up to the surface, much quicker than a normal human being should. The moment my head was out of the water, I began coughing, sputtering, and choking.

"Could you—have taken—(cough)—any longer?"

"My mom appeared," he told me, as if that cleared everything up.

We waded to the shore, emerging from the water looking like two absolute freaks: Percy; dry, pale, and wide-eyed, wearing clothes with scorch marks in them, and me; wet, spluttering, and grumpy. Nobody paid much attention to us, though, seeing as the main event was the gaping hole in the side of the Gateway Arch. Percy and I glanced at each other grimly, then lowered our heads and took the long way around.

     Every emergency vehicle in the town seemed to have been called in for such a catastrophic event. Police helicopters swarmed overhead, ambulances' sirens rang, firefighters barricaded the area. The crowd of onlookers was more packed than New Year's Eve at Times Square.

      A news lady we passed was talking into a branded microphone: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get some of the survivors to answer a few questions about the experience."

     Percy and I both exhaled a small sigh of relief. Survivors. Maybe the park ranger and that family had made it out alive. I wondered if Annabeth and Grover were okay.

      Percy began pushing through the crowd to see what was going on inside the police line, but I grabbed him by the shoulder at the last second, jerking my head toward the camera recording right where he had just been about to step. He widened his eyes and we turned away as the camera panned toward us.

     "...a young couple," another reporter was saying, as we pushed our way through the crowd. "Channel five has learned that surveillance cameras show an adolescent couple, a boy and a girl, going wild on observation deck, somehow setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities..."

     "Are we the young couple?" Percy muttered.

     I had gathered the sense to pull the hood of my wet sweatshirt over my head, but I nodded. "Unless they're talking about Echidna and her Chihuahua."

      We ducked and weaved through the crowd, me in the lead, as I could keep my head up but still be obstructed by the hood of my jacket. I guessed Percy was watching my feet, because every time I turned over my shoulder, his head was at a 90 degree angle.

     After circling back the long way around the police officers, I had lost all hope of finding Annabeth and Grover. I turned back to Percy to ask if he had any clue where we could find them, when I was bombarded from the back, curly blonde hair falling into my face.

     "Careful on the lungs, Annabeth," I said, my voice muffled and through her hair. "Aquaman almost drowned me."

     "Saved your life, though," Percy said, in the midst of a hug with Grover. "You can admit that."

     "Fine." I swung my arm around Grover's shoulder in greeting. "I admit that you did not kill us. Congratulations!"

"What happened?" Annabeth asked us, her brow knit together with worry.

"We fell." Percy shrugged.

"Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?"

     It was my turn to shrug. "We lost our footing."

     Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!" and the crowd separated to reveal a couple of paramedics rolling a woman on a gurney out of the way. I recognized her as the mother of the little boy, apart of the innocents that had gotten trapped with Percy and me on the observation deck. She had a few nasty scrapes on her face that the paramedics had yet to have sewn shut.

     My fingers itched to stitch the big cut on her forehead, and I found myself taking steps towards the stretcher as if I was actually going to do so. I faltered as Annabeth placed a hand on my bicep to keep me grounded. She looked worried. "You okay?"

     "Fine," I said, though I was more confused than a Cyclops on a treadmill. I had never had such an urge to heal before; and besides, it's not like I'm any good at it. Whatever ghost of Apollo's more talented offspring that had momentarily possessed me was gone, though, and I turned to follow the rest of my friends back to the Amtrak.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, our train rolled into Denver. We had a week left until the summer solstice, but had yet to have reached the Underworld and there was no trace of Zeus's master bolt. We were starving, tired, and hadn't showered at all since we left camp. Annabeth, Grover, and Percy's stenches weren't as noticeable as mine was; being dunked in the polluted Mississippi River can really bring down one's hygiene.

     We'd exhausted our run with the Amtrack, but that was fine with us, seeing as we were safely in Denver. Annabeth thought it would be a good idea for us to try and contact Chiron, so we took a trip to an empty do-it-yourself carwash, wherein Annabeth and I had to scare off some guy blocking our connection, Percy could only reach Luke, not Chiron, and, when we asked him what Luke had told him, Percy only shook his head and said it was nothing.

     Dejected, we headed to a local diner next, in search of some food to satiate our hunger. It was burgers again, and all I could think about as I looked over the menu hanging above the bar was Aunty Em's and Percy slicing off Medusa's head. I lost my appetite pretty soon after that.

      The waitress came over. "Well?" she asked us.

     "We, um, want to order dinner," Percy told her.

     "You kids have money to pay for it?"

     I glanced sideways at Annabeth, then across the booth at Percy and Grover; the satyr's lower lip was quivering. I nudged his leg to keep him from bleating us into trouble. Annabeth looked like she was about to pass out from hunger.

     I bit my lip, thinking of a sob story I could sell to this lady, when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant pulled up to the curb of the diner. I tensed, a feeling of incandescence rolling over me. I recognized that stupid bike, but I prayed its rightful owner was not the one climbing off of it...

     My prayers went up in flames. Ares walked into the diner, clad in a red muscle tank, black ripped jeans, and to complete the toughie look, a leather jacket. His glasses made him look like he was trying (and failing) to be intimidating. I glared at him as he crossed the diner to our table, then smooshed his buff body into the seat with me and Annabeth already in it. My cheek was flush against the plexiglass window, and half of Annabeth's butt was on my lap. I decided there were worse positions to be in.

     "It's on me," Ares told the waitress, answering her prior question. She stood, gaping at him in obvious confusion. Ares raised his eyebrows and said, "Are you still here?"

     He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned on her heel and marched back toward the kitchen. I watched her go, then returned my attention to the god sitting at our dinner table.

He had his eyes trained on Percy. At least, in his general direction. His glasses made it a little hard to tell—especially since, if you looked directly into them, you would see fire and blood and corpses and all things warlike. I hated it.

"So you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?" Ares asked Percy, giving him a wicked grin.

"What's it to you?" Percy asked him. Even I, native to New York, could sense the pure New Yorker in his voice. He was mad. He'd never even talked to me like that, and here he was, scowling at the god of war like it was nothing.

Annabeth leaned forward, her hair falling into my face. I sputtered as she said, "Percy, this is—"

Ares raised his hand to stop Annabeth. I scoffed, rolling my eyes at his audacity. (Then again, he's a god. Dunno what I expected.) He said, "S'okay. I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"

"I'm going to the bathroom," I announced loudly, then shimmed over Annabeth and out of the booth. Ares had stood to get out of my way. I thanked the gods. The day I shimmy over Ares to get out of a booth will be the day I die.

     I had learned my lesson that I couldn't be trusted not to lash out when I was around Ares—I had been too arrogant and unable to hold my tongue on our first meeting. That was the day I learned two things: One: that, if I wanted to, I could be mean enough to make even the god of war cry like a baby, and two: that Ares was not one to hold back on a threat. For the next six months or so—until I begrudgingly apologized—I found myself failing in all battle-related activities.

     Long story short, Ares and I had a complicated history.

I came back just as the god was preparing to leave. He was saying, "You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done." When I snorted at his big ego, Ares seemed to take notice of me for the first time since he had arrived, and he raised his eyebrows like he had just remembered something. "You. Your dad told me to tell you to.. uh, look at a mirror."

     At the mention of my father, my heart rose to my throat, beating erratically and excitedly in anticipation of what Apollo had to say to me, but when Ares said it, all I could do was stare at him blankly. Annabeth, Grover, and Percy were all looking at me, I could feel it. Ares waited for my reaction, but when I didn't give him one, he furrowed his brow and said, "You're the.. Theo-doohickey Scott, right?" When I nodded, he reached into the back pocket of his pants, dug around for a minute or two, then pulled out a slip of paper.

"Ah." He cleared his throat, then read aloud, "'Look inside yourself.' You know, I was pretty close. Anyway, you." He pointed at Percy again. "Get that shield."

And then, he was gone.

Percy and I were both pretty shaken. I had no clue what Ares told him, but the message from my father was both clear and unclear at the same time. Look inside yourself. He hadn't spoken to me in... what, months now? I wondered what was so important inside of me that had him breaking his silence to tell me to find it.

     "So..." Grover said, looking up at the waitress, who had just arrived with our food. "Dinner first, then hit the abandoned waterpark?"

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