ROYAL CRIES
━━ chapter six

━━ IT WAS FORTUNATE that Percy had made friends with fast-flying pegasi.

               Percy did his best taxicab whistle, and within a few minutes, three dark shapes circled out of the sky. They looked like hawks at first, but once they descended, Elisa could make out the long galloping legs of pegasi. She could recognize Blackjack, but the other two were nameless to her—maybe Porkpie and Guido.

               Blackjack neighed loudly as he landed in a trot. He was leading the other two pegasi.

               "Thanks for coming," Percy told him. "Hey, why do pegasi gallop as they fly, anyway?"

               Blackjack shook his head in an annoyed fashion, whining loudly.

               Percy looked amused. He waved Annabeth and Elisa over. "We need to get to the Williamsburg Bridge," he told the pegasus.

               Blackjack lowered his neck, an invitation for Percy to get on. Annabeth got on the back of the pure white pegasus—Porkpie, maybe—and the spotted pegasus was left for Elisa.

               On the way to the bridge, a heavy knot was forming in the pit of Elisa's stomach. She had seen battles before, and had fought in them too, but she didn't realize how scared she was to be in one again. It was like she could feel her blood pumping faster, the adrenaline coursing through her.

               She saw the battle before they were close enough to make out individual fighters. It was well after midnight now, but the bridge blazed with light. Cars were burning. Arcs of fire streamed in both directions as flaming arrows and spears sailed through the air.

               She, Percy, and Annabeth came in for a low pass, and Elisa saw the Apollo campers retreating. They would hide behind cars and snipe at the approaching army, setting off explosive arrows and dropping caltrops in the road, building fiery barricades wherever they could, and dragging sleeping drivers out of their cars to get them out of harm's way. But the enemy kept advancing. An entire phalanx of dracaenae marched in the lead, their shields locked together, spear tips bristling over the top. An occasional arrow would connect with their snaky trunks, or a neck, or a chink in their armor, and the unlucky snake woman would disintegrate, but most of the Apollo arrows glanced harmlessly off their shield wall. About a hundred more monsters marched behind them.

               Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. Elisa didn't see what happened to him next, and she didn't want to know.

               "There!" Annabeth called from the back of her pegasus.

               Sure enough, in the middle of the invading legion was the Minotaur himself. From the waist down, he wore standard Greek battle gear—a kilt-like apron of leather and metal flaps, bronze greaves covering his legs, and tightly wrapped leather sandals. His top was all bull—hair and hide and muscle, leading to a head so large he should've toppled over just from the weight of his horns.

               A double-bladed axe was strapped to his back, but he was too impatient to use it. As soon as he saw Percy circling overhead ( or he smelled the boy, more likely, since his eyesight was bad ), he bellowed and picked up a white limousine.

               "Blackjack, dive!" the son of Poseidon yelled.

               They were at least a hundred feet up, but the limo came sailing towards them, flipping fender over fender like a two-ton boomerang. Annabeth and Porkpie swerved madly to the left, Elisa and Guido swerved to the right, and Blackjack tucked in his wings and plunged. The limo sailed past Elisa's left, a mirror nearly catching the tip of her ear. It cleared the suspension lines of the bridge and fell towards the East River.

               Monsters jeered and shouted, and the Minotaur picked up another car.

               "Drop us behind the lines with the Apollo Cabin," Percy told Blackjack. "Stay in earshot, but get out of danger!"

               The pegasi swooped down behind an overturned school bus where a couple of campers were hiding. Annabeth, Elisa, and Percy leaped off as soon as their pegasi hooves touched the pavement. Then Blackjack, Porkpie, and Guido soared into the night sky.

               Michael Yew ran up to them. He was definitely the shortest commando Elisa had ever seen. He had a bandaged cut on his arm. His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time.

               "Glad you could join us," he said. "Where are the other reinforcements?"

               "Sorry, Michael," Elisa said, pulling out Acantha. "We're all you're gonna get—at least, for a while."

               The smile on the blond's face faded. "Then, we're dead."

               Elisa gave him an offended look. "You could try and look a bit happier to see us."

               "You still have your flying chariot?" Annabeth asked.

               Michael shook his head. "Left it at camp. I told Clarisse she could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But she said it was too late. We'd insulted her honor for the last time or something stupid like that."

               "Least you tried," Percy said.

               The son of Apollo shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

               He drew an arrow and launched it toward the enemy. The arrow made a screaming sound as it flew. When it landed, it unleashed a blast like a power chord on an electric guitar magnified through the world's largest speakers. The nearest cars exploded. Monsters dropped their weapons and clasped their ears in pain. Some ran. Others disintegrated on the spot.

               "That was my last sonic arrow," he admitted.

               "A gift from your dad?" Percy asked. "God of Music?"

               Michael grinned wickedly. "Loud music can be bad for you. Unfortunately, it doesn't always kill."

               Sure enough, most monsters were regrouping, shaking off their confusion.

               "We have to fall back," the son of Apollo said. "I've got Kayla and Austin setting traps further down the bridge."

               "No," Percy said. "Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We're going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn."

               Michael guffawed. "How do you plan to do that?"

               The son of Poseidon drew Riptide.

               "Percy," Annabeth said, "let Elisa and me come with you."

               "Too dangerous." Percy shook his head. "Besides, I need you guys to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. I'll distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while I keep them focused on me. If anybody can do all that, you can."

               Michael snorted. "Thanks a lot."

               Percy kept his eyes on Elisa. She shared a nervous look with Annabeth before nodding reluctantly. "All right. Get moving. Stay safe."

               Before Percy could lose his courage, he said, "Don't I get a kiss for luck? We've made it a tradition between us."

               Elisa blinked at him blankly, as if trying to process what he said. Percy figured she was getting ready to threaten to drill him through with the spear in her hands, but instead, she tightened her hold on Acantha and said, "Get back here alive, Chico Pez. We'll see after that."

               Percy knew that was going to be the best offer from Elisa, so he stepped out from behind the school bus. He walked up the bridge in plain sight, straight toward the enemy.

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Everything happened fast—which was pretty normal for battles. Percy wasn't sure how the curse worked, but he really didn't care as long as it kept monsters from invading his hometown.

               He sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake-women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. He slashed and stabbed and whirled and he might have even laughed once or twice—a crazed laugh that scared Percy as much as it did his enemies. He was aware of the Apollo campers behind him shooting arrows, disrupting every attempt by the enemy to rally. Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred.

               Percy followed with the Apollo campers at his heels.

               "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

               They drove them back toward the Brooklyn side of the bridge. The sky was growing pale in the east. Percy could see the toll stations ahead.

               "Percy!" Elisa yelled to him. "You've already gotten rid of them. Come back. We need to regroup!"

               Some part of him knew she was right, but he was doing so well. Percy wanted to destroy every last monster.

               Then he saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armor, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design.

               The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm and Percy recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold.

               "Holy shit ..." Elisa cursed under her breath.

               She, Annabeth, and the Apollo campers faltered. The monsters they had been pursuing reached the Titan's line and were absorbed into the new force. Kronos gazed in their direction. He was a quarter of a mile away, but Percy swears he could see the Titan smile.

               "Now," Percy said, "we pull back."

               The Titan lord's men drew their swords and charged. The hooves of their skeletal horses thundered against the pavement. Camp Half-Blood's archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding.

               "Retreat!" Percy told his friends. "I'll hold them!"

               In a matter of seconds, they were on me.

               Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but Annabeth and Elisa stayed right beside the son of Poseidon, fighting bravely as they slowly backed up the bridge. Kronos's cavalry swirled around the trio, slashing and yelling insults. The Titan himself advanced leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Being the Lord of Time, maybe he really did have all the time in the world.

               Percy tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed him down, but these weren't monsters. They were demigods who'd fallen under Kronos's spell. He couldn't see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had probably been his friends. Elisa didn't seem to be as forgiving as Percy, prodding them with her spear in the arm or leg, a wound that wouldn't kill them too easily.

               Percy slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they'd better dismount and fight him on foot.

               Annabeth, Elisa, and he stayed shoulder to shoulder, facing different directions. A dark shape passed over them and Percy dared to glance up. Blackjack, Guido, and Porkpie were swooping in, kicking their enemies in the helmets and flying away like very large kamikaze pigeons.

               They almost made it to the middle of the bridge when something strange happened. Percy felt a chill crawl down his spine—like that old saying about someone walking on your grave. Behind him, Elisa cried out in pain.

               "Elisa!" Annabeth yelled.

               Percy turned in time to see the daughter of Dionysus fall, clutching her shoulder. A demigod with a bloody knife stood over her. In a flash, Percy understood what had happened. The demigod had been trying to stab the son of Poseidon. Judging from the position of his blade, he would've taken Percy—maybe by sheer luck—in the small of his back, his only weak point.

               Elisa had intercepted the knife with her own body. But why? She didn't know about Percy's weak spot. No one did.

               Percy locked eyes with the enemy demigod. He wore an eye patch under his war helm: Ethan Nakamura, Son of Nemesis. It seemed eerily ironic considering his touchy past with Elisa and Kronos for him to be the one to be wielding the knife. Somehow Ethan had survived the explosion on the Princess Andromeda. Percy slammed Ethan in the face with his sword hilt so hard he dented Ethan's helm.

               "Get back!" Percy slashed the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from Elisa. Annabeth crouched down next to the girl, yelling something about holding the wound. "No one touches her!"

               "Interesting," Kronos said.

               He towered above Percy on his skeletal horse, his scythe in one hand. He studied the scene with narrowed eyes as if he could sense that the boy had just come close to death, the way a wolf can smell fear.

               "Bravely fought, Percy Jackson," he said. "But it's time to surrender—or the girl dies."

               "Percy, don't," Elisa groaned. Her jaw was tight and tears were gathering in her eyes from the pain. Her shirt was soaked with blood. Percy had to get her out of there.

               "Blackjack!" he yelled.

               As fast as light, the pegasus swooped down and clamped his teeth on the straps of Elisa's armor. Porkpie appeared and Annabeth jumped on his back, promising Percy that she would get Elisa somewhere safe. They soared away over the river before the enemy could even react.

               Kronos snarled. "Some day soon, I am going to make pegasus soup. But in the meantime ..." He dismounted, his scythe glistening in the dawn light. "I'll settle for another dead demigod."

               Percy met his first strike with Riptide. The impact shook the entire bridge, but the boy held his ground. Kronos's smile wavered.

               With a yell, Percy kicked his legs out from under the Titan. His scythe skittered across the pavement. He stabbed downward, but Kronos rolled aside and regained his footing. His scythe flew back to his hands.

               "So ..." He studied Percy, looking mildly annoyed. "You had the courage to visit the Styx. I had to pressure Luke in many ways to convince him. If only you had supplied my host body instead ... but no matter. I am still more powerful. I am a Titan."

               He struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted Percy backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke's own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. Suspension cords whipped around and Percy skidded halfway back to Manhattan.

               Percy got unsteadily to his feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge—except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me. His last arrow was notched in his bow.

               "Michael, go!" Percy screamed.

               "Percy, the bridge!" the son of Apollo called. "It's already weak!"

               At first, the black-haired boy didn't understand. Then he looked down and saw fissures in the pavement. Patches of the road were half melted from Greek fire. The bridge had taken a beating from Kronos's blast and the exploding arrows.

               "Break it!" Michael yelled. "Use your powers!"

               It was a desperate thought—there was no way it would work—but he stabbed Riptide into the bridge. The magic blade sank to its hilt in the tarmac. Saltwater shot from the crack like he had hit a geyser. Percy pulled out the blade and the fissure grew. The bridge shook and began to crumble. Chunks the size of houses fell into the East River. Kronos's demigods cried out in alarm and scrambled backward. Some were knocked off their feet. Within a few seconds, a fifty-foot chasm opened in the Williamsburg Bridge between Kronos and Percy.

               The vibrations died. Kronos's men crept to the edge and looked at the hundred-and-thirty-foot drop into the river.

               Percy didn't feel safe, though. The suspension cables were still attached. The men could get across that way if they were brave enough. Or maybe Kronos had a magic way to span the gap.

               The Titan lord studied the problem. He looked behind him at the rising sun, then smiled across the chasm. He raised his scythe in a mock salute. "Until this evening, Jackson."

               He mounted his horse, whirled around, and galloped back to Brooklyn followed by his warriors. Percy turned to thank Michael Yew, but the words died in his throat. Twenty feet away, a bow lay in the street. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.

               "No!" Percy searched the wreckage on his side of the bridge. He stared down at the river. Nothing. He wanted to dive head-first into the river to search but he knew that would be a death wish—even for him. Guilt plagued him like an unwelcome guest.

               The son of Poseidon yelled in anger and frustration. The sound carried forever in the morning stillness. He was about to whistle for Blackjack to help him search when his mom's phone rang. The LCD display said he had a call from Finklestein & Associates—probably a demigod calling on a borrowed phone.

               Percy picked up, hoping for good news. Of course, he was wrong.

               "Is this Percy?" an unknown man's voice asked. He sounded afraid, as if he had just received bad news and was told to pass it on. "It's Callum. You need to head to the Plaza Hotel—quickly. Bring a healer from Apollo's cabin. It's—" His voice broke. "It's Elisa."

👑  MAR. 8TH, 2023  /  yuh i tried to write an interlude and it wasn't going well- i'm just gonna leave it for a bonus chapter

so bc no interlude, here's a double update (the second update will come out soonish- like a couple of minutes)

anyways,, happy birthday elisa!! ur like really old now

not really relevant but i'm going to try and write a more realistic reaction from percy about michael's death (bc let's be honest, after this chapter he was basically forgotten about and percy felt little to no guilt and you know he wouldn't react like that) so i'm going to try and write michael's death to be more "realistic" in how i think percy responds to it

(hopefully at least)

anyways,, thoughts?? opinions??

also!!! thank you so much for 2k votes!! got me all giddy and shit