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99. long story short

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter ninety-nine. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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I WANTED TO FIGHT SOMEONE. Nobody, except Apollo kids, is allowed on Pepper. I wasn't sure if I was more shocked that Rachel had managed to tame my pegasus, or if I was more angry that she'd tamed my pegasus.

As we ran for the river, Annabeth voiced my concern, since we've always been on the same page for things like this (hating Rachel): "How could she even ride Pepper? I thought she didn't like giving anyone rides outside of Cabin Seven."

But I didn't have an answer for her.

     The traffic was horrible. Everybody was out on the streets gawking at the war zone damage. Police sirens wailed on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away. So we ran, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clogged the sidewalks.

"She'll never get through the defenses," Annabeth pointed out. "Peleus will eat her."

Percy and I met eyes. Neither of us had considered that. The Mist wouldn't fool Rachel like it would most people. She'd be able to find the camp no problem, but I'd been hoping the magical boundaries would just keep her out like a force field. It hadn't occurred to me that Peleus might attack. And as much as I hated Rachel, I wasn't sure I wanted her dead on camp property.

Finally we scrambled over the embankment to the shore, and Percy let out a loud whistle. I knew he hated doing it. Even with the sand dollar he'd given the East River for a magic cleaning, the water here was pretty polluted. Even though they must be getting sick, the sea animals still came when he called.

Three wake lines appeared in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi broke the surface. They whinnied unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They were beautiful creatures, with multicolored fishtails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front was much bigger than the others—a ride fit for a Cyclops.

"Rainbow!" Percy called. "How's it going, buddy?"

He neighed a complaint.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Percy said. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."

The hippocampus snorted.

"Tyson?" Percy replied. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops army."

Rainbow sounded pretty impressed to hear that.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride.."

In no time, Annabeth, Percy, and I were zipping up the East River faster than Jet Skis. We sped under the Throgs Neck Bridge and headed for Long Island Sound. It seemed like forever until we saw the beach at camp. We thanked the hippocampi and waded ashore, only to find Argus waiting for us. He stood in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at us.

"Is she here?" I asked, my stomach twisting.

He nodded grimly.

"Is everything okay?" Annabeth said.

Argus shook his head.

We followed him up the trail. It was surreal being back at camp, because everything looked so peaceful: no burning buildings, no wounded fighters. The cabins were bright in the sunshine, and the fields glittered with dew. But the place was mostly empty.

Up at the Big House, something was definitely wrong. Green light was shooting out all the windows. Mist—the magical kind—swirled around the yard. Chiron lay on a horse-size stretcher by the volleyball pit, a bunch of satyrs standing around him. Pepper cantered nervously in the grass, and Blackjack circled her, occasionally nudging her gently with his head.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare stood at the bottom of the porch steps. Her arms were raised like she was waiting for someone inside the house to throw her a ball.

"How is she here?" I asked no one in particular. "How in Hades' name did she get past the barriers?"

"She flew," one of the satyrs said, looking accusingly at Blackjack. "Right past the dragon, right through the magic boundaries."

My stomach lurched when Rachel shivered. The mist swirled around her even more than it already had. I tried to go to her, but the satyrs stopped me when I tried to get any close.

"Theo, this is bad," Percy told me, his voice lowered. "It's really bad."

"You don't think I know that, Percy?" I snapped. "That's why we need to—"

"Theo, stop," Chiron warned. He winced as he tried to move. I instantly felt regretful for indirectly inflicting any more harm to him. His left arm was in a sling, his two back legs were in splints, and his head was wrapped in bandages. Most of it was my fault already. "You can't interrupt."

Percy grabbed my arm. "You don't understand," he said. "There's a curse. I saw in my dream. Hades cursed the Oracle. He said he'll break it, but if he hasn't, if he forgot to get around to it—"

"She'll be destroyed." My voice came out small. I looked back to Rachel. The Mist was still swirling around her, brushing her hair in the wind.

I wanted to dive forward and stop her. I needed to stop her, somehow. But every moment I waited was a moment wasted, and we only had a few measly seconds before she would either turn completely or be destroyed right in front of our eyes.

I know I hated her. I've insulted her on multiple occasions and wished she would've left us alone more times than I can count. But that doesn't mean I wanted her dead.

As I watched in a trance, the house rumbled. The door flew open and green light poured out. I recognized the warm musty smell of snakes.

Mist curled into a hundred smoky serpents, slithering up the porch columns, curling around the house. My skin crawled. Then the Oracle appeared in the doorway.

The withered mummy shuffled forward in her rainbow dress. She looked even worse than usual, which is saying a lot. Her hair was falling out in clumps. Her leathery skin was cracking like the seat of a worn-out bus. Her glassy eyes stared blankly into space, but I got the creepiest feeling she was being drawn straight toward Rachel.

Rachel held out her arms. She didn't look scared.

"You've waited too long," she said. "But I'm here now."

The sun blazed more brightly. A man appeared above the porch, floating in the air—a blond dude in a white toga, with sunglasses and a cocky smile.

"Dad," I whispered.

He winked at me but held up his finger to his lips.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he said. "You have the gift of prophecy. But it is also a curse. Are you sure you want this?"

Rachel nodded. "It's my destiny."

"Do you accept the risks?"

"I do."

"Then proceed," the god said.

Rachel closed her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate."

I didn't know where she was getting the words, but they flowed out of her as the Mist thickened. A green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoiled from the mummy's mouth and slithered down the stairs, curling affectionately around Rachel's feet. The Oracle's mummy crumbled, falling away until it was nothing but a pile of dust in an old tie-dyed dress. Mist enveloped Rachel in a column.

For a moment I couldn't see her at all. Then the smoke cleared.

Rachel collapsed and curled into the fetal position. Annabeth, Percy, and I rushed forward, but Apollo said, "Stop! This is the most delicate part."

"You have to stop," I said, fighting Percy's arm as he held me back from rushing forward. "Whatever you're doing to her, you have to stop it!"

Apollo studied Rachel with concern. "Unfortunately, it is not up to me anymore. Either the spirit takes hold, or it doesn't."

"And if it doesn't?" Annabeth asked.

"Five syllables," Apollo said, counting them on his fingers. "That would be real bad."

Despite Apollo's warning, I pushed past Percy to run forward and kneel over Rachel. The smell of the attic was gone. The Mist sank into the ground and the green light faded. But Rachel was still pale. She was barely breathing.

Then her eyes fluttered open. She focused on me with difficulty, and her lips stretched into a weak smile. "Blondie."

I peered into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

She tried to sit up, but winced. She pressed her hands to her temples. "I'm all right. Please, help me up. The visions—they're a little disorienting."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Percy asked. I wasn't sure when he'd come up behind me.

Apollo drifted down from the porch. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the new Oracle of Delphi."

"You're kidding," Annabeth said, her eyes wide.

Rachel managed another weak smile. "It's a little surprising to me too, but this is my fate. I saw it when I was in New York. I know why I was born with true sight. I was meant to become the Oracle."

I blinked. "You mean you can tell the future now?"

I'll admit; I was a little jealous. That was one of the only traits I desperately wanted to inherit from my father. But instead... Rachel gets it?

"Not all the time," she said. "But there are visions, images, words in my mind. When someone asks me a question, I . . . Oh no—"

"It's starting," Apollo announced.

Rachel doubled over like someone had punched her. Then she stood up straight and her eyes glowed serpent green. Percy and I stumbled back. He grabbed my hand.

When Rachel spoke, her voice sounded tripled—like three Rachels were talking at once:

"Seven half-bloods shall answer the call
To blue or gray skies, the world will fall
A fellowship to keep against another's will
Together, it seems, the world goes still
A child of wisdom takes her last breath
Alone, one walks to the Doors of Death."

At the last word, Rachel collapsed. Percy and Apollo caught her and helped her to the porch. Her skin looked pale. I could barely focus on the prophecy she'd somehow just spit out. My mind raced.

"What was that?" I asked, to no one in particular.

"I believe," my father announced, "that we just heard the next Great Prophecy."

"What does it mean?" I demanded.

Rachel frowned. "I don't even remember what I said."

"No," Apollo mused. "The spirit will only speak through you occasionally. The rest of the time, our Rachel will be much as she's always been. There's no point in grilling her, even if she has just issued the next big prediction for the future of the world."

"What?" I said. "But—"

"Listen," Apollo said, "I wouldn't worry too much. The last Great Prophecy about Dreamy Eyes here took almost seventy years to complete. This one may not even happen in your lifetime."

I thought about the lines Rachel had spoken in that creepy voice: about storm and fire and the Doors of Death. "Maybe," I said, but it didn't sound so good."

"No," said Apollo cheerfully. "It certainly didn't. She's going to make a wonderful Oracle!"

It was hard to drop the subject, but Apollo insisted that Rachel needed to rest, and she did look pretty disoriented. I let her go and Annabeth walked with her to the infirmary.

The rest of the day was as strange as the beginning. Campers trickled in from New York by car, pegasus, and chariot. The wounded were cared for. The dead were given proper funeral rites at the campfire.

Silena's shroud was hot pink, but embroidered with an electric spear. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins both claimed her as a hero, and lit the shroud together. No one mentioned the word spy. That secret burned to ashes as the designer perfume smoke drifted into the sky.

Even Ethan Nakamura was given a shroud—black silk with a logo of swords crossed under a set of scales. As his shroud went up in flames, I thought about what Nico had tried to tell me earlier. Ethan's soul was gone. No rebirth. No Elysium. No judgement. Nothing. We were burning this shroud for no logical reason. It wouldn't send his soul anywhere. But for some reason, it made it all feel real. For the first time since this whole ordeal had begun, I felt grief for Ethan Nakamura.

Dinner at the pavilion was a quiet one. The only highlight was Juniper the tree nymph who screamed, "Grover!" and gave her boyfriend a flying tackle hug, making everybody smile. They went down to the beach to take a moonlit walk, and I was happy for them, though the scene reminded me of Silena and Beckendorf, which made me sad all over again.

Mrs. O'Leary romped around happily, eating everybody's table scraps. Nico (gods knew when he appeared) sat at the main table with Chiron and Mr. D, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool. Hey, show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're everybody's best friend.

Slowly, the dinner crowd trickled away. Some went to the campfire for a sing-along. Others went to bed. I sat at the Apollo table with Will and watched the moonlight on Long Island Sound. I could see Grover and Juniper at the beach, holding hands and talking. It was peaceful. Will left some few minutes after he'd gotten there. He didn't look good.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. I sat up, my eyes drifting over to Percy, alone at the Poseidon table. I looked down to my plate and willed for a chocolate cupcake with blue icing to appear in front of me. When I opened my eyes, it was there. Wonky and a bit misshapen, but there. I guess the gods or wood nymphs or whatever serves us dinner weren't too used to making dessert, too.

"Hey." I slid onto the bench next to Percy and nudged him with my elbow. "Happy birthday, Perce."

He stared at me, his eyes flickering between me and the cupcake. "What?"

"August eighteenth," I said. "Your birthday. Make a wish."

He thought for a second, then smiled at me and blew out the candle.

We cut it in half and shared, eating with our fingers. Percy sat quietly next to me, and we watched the ocean. Crickets and monsters were making noise in the woods, but otherwise it was quiet.

"You saved the world," I said.

"We saved the world," he corrected, swiping a trail of blue frosting across my nose. "And Rachel is the new Oracle, which means she won't be dating anybody."

"You don't sound disappointed," I noticed.

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't care."

I narrowed my eyes. "Sure."

He raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me, Princess Sunshine?"

"Princess—" I let out a laugh, surprised. "Oh, I'm gonna kick your butt, Aquaman."

"You know I'd kick yours right back."

He smiled at me and brushed the cake off his hands. "You know, when I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable... Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal."

I kept my eyes on the horizon. My heart sounded like it was about to beat out of my chest. "Yeah?"

"Then up on Olympus," he said, "when they wanted to make me a god and stuff, I kept thinking—"

"Oh, you so wanted to."

He laughed. "Well, maybe a little. But I didn't, because I thought— I didn't want things to stay the same for eternity, because things could always get better. And I was thinking..."

He trailed off, so I nudged his shoulder. "Anyone in particular?" I asked, my voice soft.

He looked over and saw that I was trying not to smile.

"You're laughing at me," he whined.

"I am not!"

"You are so not making this easy."

"I'm just wondering," I said, beaming, "and you have to be honest... was it Tyson?"

He started to laugh, shaking his head at me, his cheeks twinged with a pinkish tone. "I really hate you, you know."

"No, you don't," I said.

Percy smiled again. He put his hands on my cheeks and brought our lips into a kiss. Even though it wasn't anywhere near our first time, I felt butterflies fluttering around inside my stomach, and I was pretty sure literal sparks popped out of my hair.

I could've stayed that way forever, except a voice behind us growled, "Well, it's about time!"

Suddenly the pavilion was filled with torchlight and campers. Clarisse led the way as the eavesdroppers charged and hoisted us both onto their shoulders.

"Oh, come on!" Percy complained. "Is there no privacy?"

"The lovebirds need to cool off!" Clarisse said with glee.

"The canoe lake!" Connor yelled.

With a huge cheer, they carried us down the hill, but they kept us close enough to hold hands. Percy was laughing, and I couldn't help laughing too, even though my face was completely red and I felt like I was about to explode of embarrassment.

We held hands right up to the moment they dumped us in the water.

Anyway, we had the last laugh, in the end. Percy made an air bubble at the bottom of the lake. Our friends kept waiting for us to come up, but hey—if you're ever the son of Poseidon, you'd know you don't have to hurry. And if you're ever in love with the son of Poseidon, you've got it really good.

But I hope you never fall in love with him, because I don't want to have to hurt you.

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