RIVER OF SEPARATION

"the last time"

THE SKY WAS A BRILLIANT BLUE, AS IF THE STORMY WEATHER HAD NEVER HAPPENED. The sun rose over the distant hills, so everything below them shone and sparkled like the entire city of Rome had just come out of the car wash.

The girl was awoken by Jason when he knocked on her cabin door. He left quickly afterward, leaving Ariadne to nudge her sleeping boyfriend awake.

He insisted on sleeping in another five minutes while burying his head into her neck. It took a whole lot of kisses and threats before he stood up from the bed with her in tow.

Now, they looked at the sheer vastness of Rome. The city seemed to have no regard for the limits of geography. It spread through hills and valleys, jumped over the Tiber with dozens of bridges, and just kept sprawling to the horizon. Streets and alleys zigzagged with no rhyme or reason through quilts of neighborhoods. Glass office buildings stood next to excavation sites. A cathedral stood next to a line of Roman columns, which stood next to a modern soccer stadium. In some neighborhoods, old stucco villas with red-tiled roofs crowded the cobblestone streets. Everywhere she looked, there were wide piazzas and traffic-clogged streets. Parks cut across the city with a crazy collection of palm trees, pines, junipers, and olive trees, as if Rome couldn't decide what part of the world it belonged to—or maybe it just believed all the world still belonged to Rome.

"We're setting down in that park," Leo announced, pointing to a wide green space dotted with palm trees. "Let's hope the Mist makes us look like a large pigeon or something."

The Argo II set down in the grassy field and the oars retracted.

The noise or traffic was all around them, but the park itself was peaceful and deserted. To their left, a green lawn sloped toward a line of woods. An old villa nestled in the shade of some weird looking pines trees with thin curvy trunks that shot up thirty or forty feet, then sprouted into puffy canopies.

To their right, snaking along the top of a hill, was a long brick wall with notched at the top for archers—maybe a medieval defensive line, maybe Ancient Roman.

To the north, about a mile away through the folds of the city, the top of the Colosseum rose above the rooftops, looking just like it did in travel photos.

Jason pointed to the base of the archers' wall, where steps led down into some kind of tunnel.

"I think I know where we are," he said. "That's the Tomb of Scipios."

Percy frowned. "Scipio...Reyna's pegasus?0

"No," Annabeth put in. "They were a noble Roman family, and...wow, this place is amazing."

Jason nodded. "I've studied maps of Rome before. I've always wanted to come here, but..."

Nobody bothered finishing that sentence.

"Plans?" Hazel asked. "Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today."

Percy shook himself out of his daze. "You're right. Annabeth...did you zero in on that spot from your bronze map?"

Her gray eyes turned extra thunderstorm dark, which her two oldest friends could interpret just fine.

"Yes," she said carefully. "It's on the Tiber River. I think I can find it, but I should—"

"Take me along," Ariadne finished. "That's a genius idea."

Annabeth glared daggers at her. "That's not—"

"Safe," she supplied. "Yeah, I know. But listen, one demigod walking through Rome alone, that doesn't sit right with me. I'll go with you as far as the Tiber. We can use that letter of introduction, hopefully meet the River god Tiberinus. Maybe he can give you some help or advice. Then you can go on alone from there. Besides, I doubt Andrea would be happy if I let her girlfriend go alone."

They had a silent staring contest. It was scary to the others, knowing that their two captains were battling it out.

"Fine," Annabeth muttered. "Hazel, now that we're in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint Nico's location?"

Hazel blinked, as if coming out of a trance from watching the Ariadne/Annabeth Show. "Um...hopefully, if I get close enough. I'll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?"

Frank beamed. "Absolutely l?"

"And, uh...Leo," Hazel added. "It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we'd need your help with something mechanical."

"Yeah," Leo said, "no problem."

Frank's smile turned into something more like Chrysaor's mask.

Piper drew her knife and set it on the rail. "Jason, Percy, and I can watch the ship for now. I'll see what Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico's location, don't go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It'll take all of us to fight the giants."

She didn't say the obvious: even all of them together would've be enough, unless they had a god on their side.

"Good idea," Percy said. "How about we plan to meet back here at...what?"

"Three this afternoon?" Jason suggested. "That's probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris-message."

The others nodded in agreement, but Ariadne noticed several of them glancing at Annabeth. Another thing no one wanted to say: Annabeth would be on a different schedule. She might be back at three, or much later, or never. But she would be on her own, searching for the Athena Parthenos.

Coach Hedge grunted. "That'll give me some time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Ariadne, Annabeth...I don't like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. I don't want to hear on the news about the same twelve year olds from 2005 running about causing explosions in Rome five years later. I will ground you until the Styx freezes over."

"We'll be back soon," Ariadne promised. She looked around at her friends, trying not to feel like this was the last time they'd ever be together. "Good luck, guys."

Percy gave Annabeth a hug, whispering encouragement. He pressed his lips to Ariadne's.

Leo lowered the gangplank, and Ariadne e and Annabeth were first off the ship.

***

     UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES, SHE WOULD'VE ENJOYED ROME MUCH MORE.

The two navigated the winding streets, dodging cars and crazy Vespa drivers, squeezing through mobs of tourists, and wading through oceans of pigeons.

Annabeth and Ariadne at one point ended up laughing their asses off while standing in an alley, after running away from tourists who insisted on taking pictures of Ariadne, mistaking her for a foreign model and a goddess.

It felt like two best friends out on a girls' trip.

The day warmed up quickly. Once they got away from the car exhaust on the main roads, the air smelled bad f baking bread and freshly cut flowers.

They aimed for the Colosseum becquse that was an easy landmark, but getting there proved harder than Ariadne anticipated. As big and confusing as the city had looked from above, it was even more so on the ground. Several times they got lost on dead-end streets. They found beautiful fountains and huge monuments by accident.

Annabeth commented on the architecture, but the taller kept her eyes open for other things. Once she spotted a glowing purple ghost—a Lar—flaring at them from the window of an apartment building. Another time she saw a white-robed woman—maybe a nymph or a goddess—holding a wicked-looking knife, slipping between ruined columns in a public park. Nothing attacked them, but there was the feeling like they were being watched, and the watchers were not friendly.

Finally they reached the Colosseum, where a dozen guys in cheap gladiator costumes were scuffling with the police—plastic swords versus batons. Ariadne wasn't sure what that was about, but she and Annabeth decided to keep walking.

They made their way west, stopping every once in a while to ask directions to the river. She wasn't fluent in Italian. As it turned out, though, that wasn't much of a problem. The few times someone approached them on the street for a picture with Ariadne or to ask a question, they were met with confusion, and they switched to English.

Next discovery: Ariadne didn't have any euros. A tourist ship filled with Diet Coke was taunting her, and by noon, she was reaching her father's level of withdrawal.

Annabeth solved the problem. She dug into her backpack, brought out Daedalus's laptop, and typed in a few commands. A plastic card ejected from a slot in the side.

Annabeth waved it triumphantly. "International credit card. For emergencies."

Ariadne stared at the card like it was gold. "Where was this on our quests?"

The sodas helped, but they were still hot and tired by the time they arrived at the Tiber River. The shore was edged with a stone embankment. A chaotic assortment of warehouses, apartments, stores, and cafes crowded the riverfront.

The Tiber itself was wide, lazy, and caramel-colored. A few tall cypress trees hung over the banks. The nearest bridge looked fairly new, made from iron girders, but right next to it stood a crumbling line of stone arches that stopped halfway across the river—ruins that might've been left over from the days of the Caesars.

"This is it." Annabeth pointed at the old stone bridge. "I recognize that from the map. But what do we do now?"

Ariadne gestured to a nearby cafe with tables overlooking the water. "It's about lunchtime. How about we try your credit card again?"

Even though it was noon, the place was empty. They picked a table outside by the river, and a waiter hurried over. He looked a bit surprised to see them—especially when they said they wanted lunch.

"American?" he asked, with a pained smile.

"Yes," Annabeth said.

"I'll have an Allesso di Bollito," Ariadne said.

The waiter was a bit pleased that she hadn't asked for tourist food. That happiness was minuscule once she also ordered a Coke with ice."

Annabeth ordered a panini and some fizzy water. After the waiter left, she smiled at Ariadne. "I think Italians eat a lot later in the day. They don't put ice in their drinks."

"Hey, at least I didn't order pizza." Ariadne gave her a smile.

Ariadne gulped while a tense pain nestled in the back of her head. She grimaced and tried to resist biting her lips, because the sight of purple in her veins would make her sick.

This quest for Annabeth was slowly killing the brunette. Her best friend was going to be in mortal danger, while Ariadne would be back on the Argo II. Wether she made it back or not, Ariadne couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness toward the whole aspect of the Athena Parthenos and where it was located. Something dangerous, evidently. She shut her eyes tightly.

"I've been looking into whatever is happening," Annabeth said. "So far, there's nothing. I don't know why your blood isn't red any longer, or why your headaches are continuously growing worse."

In spite of the situation, Ariadne laughed weakly. "Maybe we should talk about something lighter? About how I'm about to send my best friend alone to search for the Athena Parthenos without knowing exactly where it is."

The blonde was lost for words. It took a lot to silence the girl, but Ariadne always knew how to without any thought. A heavy price for being practically sisters.

"Look, Annie," Ariadne began, "whatever you're facing, I believe in you—"

Lunch arrived. The waiter looked much calmer. Having accepted the fact that they were clueless Americans, he had apparently decided to forgive them and treat them politely.

"It is a beautiful view," he said, nodding toward the river. "Enjoy, please."

Once he left, they ate in silence. Ariadne's food was tasteless, as the dread of the next few minutes took hold. Her chipped nails dug into the hard bread in her hands while crescent moon shapes indented. Her hunger was dwindling by the second, feeling nauseous the more bites she took.

"You'll have to trust me," Annabeth said. It was as if she was speaking to her sandwich. "You've got to believe I'll come back."

Ariadne dropped her food. "I never said I didn't believe you could. That's not the problem. But come back from where?"

The sound of a Vespa interrupted them. Ariadne looked along the riverfront and did a double take. The motor scooter was an old-fashioned model: big and baby blue. The driver was a guy in a silky gray suit. Behind him sat a younger woman with a headscarf, her hands around the man's waist. They weaved between cafe tables and puttered to a stop next to Ariadne and Annabeth.

"Why, hello," the man said. His voice was deep, almost croaky, like a movie actor's. His hair was short and greased back from his craggy face. He was handsome in a 1959s dad-on-television way. Even his clothes seemed old-fashioned. When he stepped off his bike, the waistline of his slacks was way higher than normal, but somehow he still managed to look manly and stylish and not like a total goober. Percy had trouble guessing his age—maybe thirty-something, though the man's fashion and manner seemed grandfatherish.

The woman slid off the bike. "We've had the most lovely morning," she said breathlessly.

She looked about twenty-one, also dressed in an old fashioned style. Her ankle length marigold skirt and white blouse were pinched together with a large leather belt. When she removed her scarf, her short wavy black hair bounced into perfect shape. She had dark playful and a brilliant smile.

Annabeth's sandwich fell out of her hands. 0oh, gods. How—how...?"

She seemed so stunned that Ariadne squinted.

"Uh..." Ariadne tilted her head. "Are you that dream doctor on that hospital show?"

"Ari!" Annabeth looked horrified.

"What?" she protested. "That show never interested me."

"That's Gregory Peck!" Annabeth's eyes were wide, and her mouth kept falling open. "And...oh gods! Audrey Hepburn! I know this movie. Roman Holiday. But that was from the 1950s. How—?"

"Oh, my dear!" The woman twirled like an air spirit and sat down at their table. "I'm afraid you've mistake me got someone else! My name is Rhea Silvia. I was the mother to Romulus and Remus, thousands of years ago. But you're so kind to think I look as young as the 1950s. And this is my husband..."

"Tiberinus," said Gregory Peck, thrusting out his hand to Ariadne in a manly way. "God of the River Tiber."

Ariadne shook his hand.

"Uh, yeah," Ariadne said. "How often do gods impersonate American movie stars?"

"Do we?" Tiberinus frowned and studied his clothes. "I'm not sure, actually. The migration of Western civilization goes both ways, you know. Rome affected the world, but the world affects Rome. There does seem to be a lot of American influence lately. I've rather lost track over the centuries."

The brunette raised a brow. "You're here to help?"

"My naiads told me you two were here." Tiberinus cast his dark eyes toward Annabeth. "You have the map, my dear? And your letter of introduction?"

"Uh..." Annabeth handed him the letter and the disk of bronze.

"S-so..." she stammered, "you've helped other children of Athena with his quest?"

"Oh, my dear!" The pretty lady, Rhea Silvia, put her hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "Tiberinus took pity on me and made me his wife. I've been ruling the river kingdom at his side ever since. He's just dreamy!"

"Thank you, my dear," Tiberinus said with a wry smile. "And, yes, Annabeth Chase, I've helped many of your siblings...to at least begin their journey safely. A shame all of them died painfully later on. Well, your documents seem in order. We should get going. The Mark of Athena awaits!"

Ariadne tapped the table. Her nails clacked, sending a ring through the nearby pairs of ears. Her pretty face twitched in thought and annoyance, aggravated at the chipper attitude of the couple who knew how many of Annabeth's siblings died on this quest, and how they were ready to ship her off again.

She was no casualty of war. She was not replaceable. She was Annabeth Chase; powerful, wise, and a tad bit prideful—Olympus's best strategist.

"Let me go a little father with her," the daughter of Dionysus pleaded. "Just a little father."

Rhea Silvia laughed sweetly. "But you can't, silly girl. You must return to your ship and gather your other friends. Confront the giants! The way will appear in your friend Piper's knife. Annabeth has a different path. She must walk alone."

"Indeed," Tiberinus said. "Annabeth must face the guardian of the shrine by herself. It is the only way. And Ariadne Phoenix, you have a different job, and less time than you realized to rescue your friend in the jar. You must hurry."

Gods, Ariadne wished what she was hearing was all a hallucination caused my dehydration. "But—"

"It's all right, Ari." Annabeth squeezed her hand. "I need to do this."

She started to protest. Her expression stopped her. She was terrified but doing her best to hide it—for the older girl's sake. Convincing her to stay would be a burden not just for the blonde, but for Ariadne. Then she would have to live with the knowledge that she'd backed down from her biggest challenge...assuming that they survived at all, with Rome about to get leveled and Gaea about to rise and destroy the world. The Athena statue held the key to defeating the giants.

"Okay," she said, forcing out the words. "Be safe, Annie."

Rhea Silvia giggle like it was a ridiculous comment. "Safe? Not at all! But necessary. Come, Annabeth, my dear. We will show you where your path starts. After that, you're on your own."

Annabeth smiled at Ariadne. She hesitated, like she was wondering what else to say. Then she shouldered her backpack and climbed on the back of the scooter.

Ariadne forced herself to stay seated at that cafe table and watch as Annabeth motored off through the streets of Rome with Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn.

For the first time, Ariadne Phoenix had nowhere to run without facing danger, and her worst fears.

authors notes:

hi.

I received a hair cut on Thursday nanendnd and I love it

So anyways!!!

Getting closer to the end

Recently, I had someone pm me a few days ago and I've been mulling over it:

They said that in the beginning, Ariadne was a clear cut oc they loved because she was no fill in for Annabeth, but now, in this book, they don't like how she's turning out. They don't agree with Ariadne's actions and her current goals and the whole situations I'm putting her in.

Listen—I appreciate the criticism and it makes me better, I admit that. But Ariadne has developed more as I have in time. She was more clear cut in the beginning because at twelve, she had little goals and a more defined role like I did at that age. But as we get older and more mixed with people, our views change and become muddled, reflecting how we see ourselves and the world.

Ariadne is struggling—plain and simple. The girl is focused on her friends and their traumas, provided while adding her into her own even more. Her goals have switched from proving her mother wrong, to defeating Kronos, and now she's lost. On one hand, saving the world is great for everyone, but on the other, she wants to start anew and make it her own to live in.

She's trying to figure it out and save everyone from herself. She's always had a savior complex, and it's more pronounced and defined at this point with these crossroads.

It's hard for me to put it into words

If you don't agree I understand. But the realistic part is that if you don't like her, there are still people who do. It's the same in real life, with not always being a favorite. I'm trying to provide realistic interpretations and fears because glorifying perfect lives is a common annoyance in books while asserting readers they'll never find it

My goal is to make a character we can all relate to in different ways, as well as providing that even if your life is shitty, there is still a light of hope and happiness to create and live a life worth living, that there is good.

I love you guys