Percy pulled out his pen and threw it at Chrysaor's feet. If memory served, he wouldn't be able to beat him anyway. Besides, Chrysaor was also a son of Poseidon. He probably had the same powers Percy had. And (most importantly), he wasn't here to fight.
"Your mother's statues have returned to their original forms," Percy said as Chrysaor glanced down at Riptide. "We're just here to figure out why."
A pause followed.
"Is that all?" he asked, voice the same accent he remembered Medusa having. Percy shrugged before glancing at Annabeth and Thalia.
"Pretty much," he said.
Chrysaor's face was hard to read behind the mask, but he could feel the suspicion coming off him in waves. "I see…" he said, holding his imperial gold blade out. "Does our father know you're here?" he asked. Percy nodded. "And Athena?" Another nod. "Triton?"
"Triton?" Percy repeated. He frowned. "Why would Triton have anything to do with this?"
Chrysaor lowered his sword. "What do you mean?" he asked irritably. Percy looked over at Annabeth and Thalia again. Both shook their heads. "You don't know the full story?" he asked, the bravado in his tone melting into disbelief. "Who sent you?"
"I- the gods," Percy said, a little offended.
"And they didn't tell you what had happened?" Chrysaor demanded. Percy just looked at him. "Did you even ask?"
Well… Percy gave a weak shrug. When he put it like that, it seemed like an obvious thing to do.
"In fairness," Thalia jumped in. "They wouldn't have told us. Gods aren't really that helpful." A clap of thunder sounded somewhere outside. "You know it's true," she added under her breath.
Chrysaor ran a hand over his face mask. "I wasn't even born yet, and I know," he said as if Percy and the others had been around when this all took place. Percy wanted to remind Chrysaor that he was the immortal among them but decided against it. "My mother was born a gorgon," he informed them flatly. "Triton turned her human."
Oh. Huh. That was…. unexpected.
"Triton?" he repeated. "As in two-tails, glowing eyes, kind of a jerk Triton?"
"You've met him then," Chrysaor said, and Percy's lips twitched. Riptide had returned to his pocket but he didn't reach for it again. A moment of silence fell as Chrysaor quietly studied them. Percy just stood in front of him uncomfortably. "Come."
"Come where?" Annabeth said, grabbing Percy's arm when he went to move forward. Chrysaor didn't answer, he swept around, moving further into the darkened hallways of the aquarium. Percy glanced at her before lightly touching her hand. "Think it through, Seaweed Brain," she murmured, eyes still latched on Chrysaor.
"I am," Percy promised, and Annabeth swallowed. "We need to-"
"Percy," Annabeth interrupted, and her fingers twitched against his arm. "I swear I am not trying to defend my mother right now. I promise, but…" He waited. "I know that with everything going on with your dad, you feel sympathetic to Medusa, but that doesn't change what shedid. You know that, right? You saw the other kids?"
The other kids? Percy frowned. He had been so caught up in Gabe that it actually hadn't crossed his mind to take a closer look at who else had stumbled into camp. Another fumble by him. Another mistake. Grover's uncle was one innocent, yes, but… now that he thought about it…
"We still need to hear her out," Percy said slowly, thinking again to his father's request to give Medusa whatever she wanted.
Annabeth nodded. "We will," she promised, eyes flicking in the direction Chrysaor had gone. "But you need to remember she hurt innocent kids. That doesn't change… so don't let her make you feel like the villain, okay?"
Percy wanted to argue that him being the villain had never been on the table. After all, he wasn't his father. But at the same time… Perhaps Annabeth knew him too well. The guilt in Percy's chest had been growing since this entire quest started. Over him feeling any sort of love toward his father. Over being anything like him. Over ignoring the sins of others. Over not being enough to save his mother. Himself.
"We don't know if she's even here," Thalia reminded them quietly. "Let's deal with Chrysaor first."
Right. Chrysaor.
Percy nodded and slipped out of Annabeth's grasp, though he let her hand slide down and grab his. They walked down the hall, the sound of water trickling filling the air.
Triton… what did Triton have to do with any of this? He glanced at Annabeth, knowing she was thinking the same thing.
"My mother and Triton are very close," she finally said as they turned a corner. Chrysaor had disappeared, but there were no other paths to take, and the smell of sea and dirt was enough to lead them. "He raised her alongside his own daughter."
That was a weird thing to think about. Triton had always felt like a bratty twenty-something-year-old. The fact he was older than Athena really put into perspective that time was strange among gods. Ancient and inconceivable.
Light shined at the end of the hall. Percy could make out Chrysaor in the center of some sort of tunnel. Glass curved above, showing sea animals swimming around them as if they were walking across the sea floor.
Annabeth's hand left Percy's to reach for her knife.
"You would lose," Chrysaor told her offhandedly. Annabeth didn't drop the knife, but she also didn't attack. "You want to see my mother?" he asked and jerked his head. "There."
Immediately, Thalia and Annabeth shielded their eyes. Percy probably should have, too - just in case - but he was caught completely off-guard to see that among the fish and larger sharks was a gorgon.
He had admittedly expected Medusa to be in human form given the un-petrified victims, but here she was as a gorgon. Her skin was scaled, and her legs bound into a snake tail. Despite the fact she was the child of two sea gods, Percy had never really pictured her in water before. She seemed like a natural in it, curling around a stone to smile at a fish that swam by. She didn't seem to notice them, the snakes around her floating around her head.
"How are they not drowning?" was Percy's first question because, well, he was sometimes an idiot. But hey. Snakes lived on land, right? Not underwater. He had a valid point.
Chrysaor blinked twice. "The snakes?" he asked. Percy nodded, committed to his quest for unnecessary knowledge. "I… don't know. Magic?"
"Water snakes absorb oxygen through their skin," Annabeth said, eyes still covered. "Normal breeds would need to resurface around every five hours, but I'm sure, given her parentage, it could be longer."
"She can't petrify you," Chrysaor told her irritably. "Stop shielding yourself."
"You can lie," Thalia offered and peeked through her fingers. "....but none of the fish are stone," she muttered to Annabeth. Chrysaor sighed. "Oh, shut up. Your mask is stupid," she added.
Chrysaor made a grunting snort that reminded Percy of a boar. Not for the first time, Percy wondered what was behind his mask. There were two versions of Chrysaor that Percy had heard since meeting him. The first was that he was born a boar, and the second a handsome man. His best guess was that he had the face of a pig. Why else would he hide his face?
"Why are you here?" Chrysaor asked, and when Percy opened his mouth, waved him away. "You see, she can no longer petrify anyone. Your precious statues have returned to life. Is that not enough? Why bother her?"
"We're here to figure out why," Percy reminded him as Medusa swam off somewhere else.
"Does it matter? Who do those answers help?" Chrysaor asked, turning to look at him. Percy thought again to their last meeting on the Argo II and felt a stab of trepidation. Chrysaor might be prideful and cruel, but he also was a force to be reckoned with. He needed to take him seriously. "Our father?"
The words sent his blood curdling. "I'm not here to bring our father any peace."
"Then I ask again," Chrysaor said evenly. "Who will be aided by the answers you seek, little brother?"
And honestly? Percy didn't have an answer. He was here because the gods asked him. Forced him, admittedly. But who was this helping? Perhaps there were bigger questions to be asked. If Medusa's powers could be undone, the gods worried theirs could also. Maybe another enemy aside from the titans and giants was coming from the shadows. Another war. Another fight that shouldn't be his.
Or, maybe, this was just Athena and Poseidon fearing retribution had finally come from their actions thousands of years ago.
And fuck that.
"You're right," Percy decided. Chrysaor tilted his head. "If she really can't petrify anyone, I'll leave. We have no business here."
"Percy-" Thalia began lowering his hand, but Percy shook his head.
"What are we hoping to accomplish?" he asked, and Thalia paused. She glanced at Annabeth, expression wary. "If she can look me in the eyes, then we'll leave," Percy decided.
That got a reaction. Annabeth and Thalia began swearing, frustration filling the room when suddenly Chrysaor vanished. A clang rang behind them as he turned to find Thalia and Annabeth both disarmed.
"Deal," Chrysaor said from behind Thalia, who swung around, lightning balled in her hands. Chrysaor dodged the static, pulling out his sword to lift against Annabeth's back. "Careful," he warned darkly. "I have been around much longer and have had much practice. Three children cannot easily defeat me."
"So weird," Annabeth said dryly. "Kronos and Gaea said the same." She stomped on his foot, using the brief moment of Chrysaor flinching away to put her Yankee cap over her head and vanished.
"Stop," Percy snapped, and Thalia flipped him off. "Can we just-"
Chrysaor reappeared by his side in a whirl of gold. "If you want our deal to stand, you better run from your friends," he whispered and darted down the tunnel.
…shit.
"Perseus…" Thalia warned him, skin crackling. "You better not do any stupid shit, or I swear to-"
"Love you both!" Percy said and sprinted after Chrysaor.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" Annabeth screeched.
Yeah. He was a dead man if he lived through this. The guilt of worrying Annabeth would eat him alive later (Thalia could choke, xoxo), but right now he felt a bit like he was drugged. The world seemed to tug all his desires in one direction. He needed to be in front of Medusa. To understand what happened. To close a book that had never been his to open.
Footsteps raced after him, but it didn't quite matter because the second he reached the end of the tunnel, Chrysaor grabbed him, yanking him into a door up a metal staircase. He chuckled, locking the door with a flick of his wrist as Thalia screamed some unsavory words.
"Hurry," he advised when Percy bit his lip. "I get the feeling they'll join us soon."
The stairs echoed as he cautiously moved up, realizing they were heading to the entrance of the tank. He could hear the animals shrieking excitedly, welcoming him and Chrysaor alike as they approached the water's edge.
Chrysaor looked at him. "After you," he gestured. It almost felt like a trap… though perhaps one of Percy's making. The door from downstairs clanged louder. Thalia would probably fry the water the second she got up here. Great. Grimacing, he jumped in.
Welcome, my lord!
Ah, the fish-arazzi. Percy awkwardly gave hellos as another splash came beside him, revealing Chrysaor under the water, restarting the excitement among the sea animals. Chrysaor was surprisingly polite in his greetings, though a note of haughty pleasure lurked underneath.
"Perseus Jackson."
And there she was. The fish darted back, revealing an unsurprised Medusa. He braced himself as he forced his eyes up, but nothing happened. He looked down at his hands. No stone.
Her eyes were brown.
"Medusa," he said warily.
She smiled wryly. "I should have known you might come. I should have known Chrysaor would let you," she added, and Chrysaor made a noise of reproach.
"I would not let him harm you!"
"I would not blame you if you did," Medusa murmured, eyes turning to her son. "Let us not pretend I have always been kind to you." Chrysaor looked away at that. "Must you always wear that thing?" she asked, reaching out to touch Chrysaor's mask. He grabbed her hand, slowly pushing it away from his face.
"You're why I wear it," he muttered, and Medusa flinched. Percy looked away, feeling suddenly intrusive to something that wasn't his. A knock sounded, breaking the tension. They all turned to see Thalia and Annabeth back in the tunnel on the other side of the aquarium. Thalia slapped a piece of paper on the glass. You SUCK was written in Greek with suck underlined three times.
"Maybe we should find some privacy," Medusa mused. "Away from your… friends."
"No need," Percy said quickly. "I told Chrysaor that if you couldn't petrify anyone, I would leave. Clearly, you can't. I'm good. Enjoy your life." He turned, but Medusa's hand shot out to grab his elbow. He paused, warily glancing back.
Medusa's eyes locked onto his, something flickering as her nails dug into his skin. "It has been… quite some time since we've seen each other, Perseus. A conversation would not go amiss."
Uh-huh. Percy didn't feel great about that proposal. Poseidon's request whispered once more in the back of his mind. Uncertain what else to do, he nodded, and Medusa's hand fell away.
"Good. Come, this way," she said, voice still that velvety smooth lull that he remembered from when he was twelve. Trying to ignore Annabeth and Thalia on the other side of the glass, he pressed his feet into the sand of the aquarium and moved after Medusa.
"Chrysaor said Triton turned you human," Percy said. Medusa hummed. "Why?"
Medusa turned her head to look at him in surprise. "I wanted to worship Athena," she said as if that was obvious. "But my parents are of the deep seas. If I left the ocean, I was considered a monster by mortals. Poseidon would have never turned me human to let me worship his enemy, but his son…" she trailed off, smiling a little.
"Why Athena?" he asked, unable to help himself.
Medusa stopped, a look of consideration on her face. They were against the back wall of the aquarium now, a long mirror made to make the space look bigger than it actually was. On the other side, they were shielded by rocks piled high. It was probably meant to be a reprieve for the animals to have some time away from the public's prying eyes. Pieces of fake plants brushed against Percy's arms from where they jutted between the stones and sand.
"I saw her fight Pallas," Medusa said slowly. "Triton's daughter. It was a spar, and something went wrong, and Athena slayed her. Already, I had been entranced. She was beautiful and fierce and fought on land in a way I had never seen… but when she harmed her friend…" Medusa shook her head. "It was an emotion I had never seen before. Regret. Grief. Pain. All the sea creatures spoke about how cold and ruthless Athena was. But here she was showing a heart…" Medusa shrugged. "It appealed to me. I wanted to know her more. To show her I had seen something nobody else had."
Part of Percy was glad Annabeth wasn't able to hear that. Given her complicated relationship with her mother, he wasn't sure how the description would make her feel. In a way, Annabeth and Medusa may not have been too different. Bewitched and enchanted by something they knew was there but not given to them.
"After I turned human, Triton took me to Athens himself, aiding me in my new life. I became a priestess and…" Medusa smiled. "Well, I lived happily. He had made me quite beautiful to the mortal eye. Mortals seem to treat one another well when they are beautiful," she added, brows furrowing. She turned, and her reflection in the mirror shifted, showing a stunning woman with long black hair in a white dress with gold bands over her arms and around her neck. Medusa smiled at the image, touching the human reflection with an air of wistfulness before it disappeared. "Sometimes, at least."
"I- I'm sorry," Percy managed and cleared his throat awkwardly. "You don't need to tell me anything-"
"You look so much like your father," Medusa interrupted, and Percy's mouth went dry. It was the same thing she had said back when they first met. A note of fascination. Yearning, even. He didn't understand. "Chrysaor does, too, you know. It was why I almost killed him."
Oh...yikes.
"You-" Percy jerked back. Unwittingly, he realized he had placed his own mother's face on top of Medusa's. An illusion that they were somehow the same. Victims of similar cloths. The idea disintegrated almost immediately with the knowledge that Medusa had hurt her son. Sally Jackson would never. Could never.
Medusa chuckled. "My two sons were born after your namesake sliced my head off," she said. "Could you imagine such a thing? I still do sometimes. My little boys growing out of my corpse… When I finally came back, I had no idea they even existed. And what was I supposed to do when I learned? I found a winged horse and a young boy who looked just like the man who raped me."
There. The word. That. It was done. Said. Suspicions erased, and now it was time to sort out everything that meant moving forward.
"Why are you telling me this?" Percy asked quietly. He couldn't imagine volunteering that sort of information.
Medusa reached out, hand brushing against his cheek. "My sisters came looking for me," she murmured. "After I turned human. It was how Poseidon learned what I had done. They asked to be turned human to go find me… and he agreed. He turned Stheno and Euryale humans and used them to learn where I was. When he saw I was in Athena's temple, he… was enraged. I remember praying, and when I turned, he was there. A storm in the Parthenon. I remember thinking I should be scared, but… I had grown up in the sea. Despite the anger, he still felt like home." Her fingers retracted, turning into a fist by Percy's face. "He told me it was a betrayal for a creature of his realm to run off to Athena and demanded me to return. I refused." Her hand lowered. "I begged him not to turn me back. And he… he…."
"You don't have to say it-"
"I think I do," Medusa interrupted. "So many people have told my story. But never me. My face is plastered across the world. Adaptations have been made. Sometimes, I'm a monster, and other times, a tragic victim. Very rarely does anyone understand the truth of it. Of what I am. And I let people tell these stories. I let people lie about who and what I am. Do you know what that's like?"
Percy did, actually. From teachers to Gabe telling newscasters what an evil kid he was. He thought to gods, whispering his name disdainfully and muttering assumptions about his actions in the Titan war. To tales the Greeks told of him when he was missing. To Gabe's words to the campers when he came back. Half-truths and outright lies and myths that never really depicted him in the same way he saw himself.
"Poseidon told me if Athena would still have me after I lost my virtues, he would allow me to stay. I agreed." Medusa shook her head with a dark chuckle. "I… agreed… and somehow that is where the murkiest began. A god gave me an ultimatum, and I had expected it to be a test. For me to take off my clothes in that sacred temple and for him to turn away and say it was merely a test of my loyalty. I expected Athena to fly in and protect a faithful priestess." Medusa looked down. "But it wasn't a test, and Athena didn't protect me. I didn't fight. I didn't do… anything, really. It was confusing. Scary... He still felt like home."
Percy felt sick. Medusa was a creature of the sea, but her emporium had been in New Jersey. Tales of her as a monster had always been on land, never the water. Now, he understood why she had been so fascinated with his eyes when they first met. Perhaps it was less about Poseidon and more that she couldn't return home.
The water around him trembled, but he forced himself to be still. If she wanted to tell this story, he would let her. She was at least owed that.
"And Athena came, and I fell to the ground and told her what happened." Medusa smiled bitterly, looking down. "I had hoped the heart she had shown with Pallas might reveal itself once more, but… she didn't accept me back. In fact, she stripped me of my humanity and cursed my eyes. Poseidon…" she laughed, sounding a little hysterical. "He defended me. He told Athena it was disgusting of her to cast me away when I was trying to prove my loyalty to her."
"Defended you…" Percy repeated hollowly. "He just wanted to paint her as a villain. He knew she wouldn't take you back."
"Their hatred for one another was renowned," Medusa agreed dryly. "I'm not even sure I was an object of his desire as much as a tool for revenge. And people…" Medusa laughed again. "They have the nerve to say Athena gave me my curse as protection. My gaze could not turn Poseidon or any other god into stone. So how was it protection? To keep other men away from me? I doubt humans would dare touch my gorgon form. It wasn't something I could control. It left me to become a weapon. An object to be slain and used against others. The first Perseus proved that. As my body had not been violated enough…"
Percy didn't move. He didn't know what to say. He felt breathless. His fingers tingled. Numb. He felt numb. He couldn't fix this, and he knew it. All he could do was listen and hate the pieces of him that were Poseidon. What could he do? Apologize? How weak would that sound in comparison to the evil he had just heard?
"I am so sorry," he whispered, just in case it did something.
More silence.
"Tell me something," Medusa finally said. "I've killed people. Innocent people. I attacked my son when I saw he wore his father's face. I killed demigods. I lured them in and hurt them. I killed travelers. Mortals. Satyrs. For a while, it was pure vengeance. And then it was loneliest. You've seen my statues. The sheer amount of them in my emporium does not compare to what I've done over the centuries." She leaned forward, the snakes floating around her, all turning to look at Percy at once. "Do I deserve justice?"
Percy gave a sloppy sort of chuckle. "I-" he began and shook his head. "I am in no position to make judgments," he said weakly. Medusa's eyes narrowed. "But I know you have been killed for years and my father not even once. Some of those you petrified deserve justice for what you did to them… but that doesn't mean you don't." Medusa leaned back, nodding slowly. "Is that what you want?" he asked slowly. "To kill me?"
"You?"
"You can't kill him. This might be as close to justice as you can get."
Medusa genuinely looked taken off guard by that. Percy wasn't sure why. It all made sense to him. His father even said to give her whatever she wanted. Maybe it had all been leading up to this.
"I have killed dozens of Poseidon's children," Medusa said slowly. "I petrified others. Neither brought me the solace I hoped for."
That was a strange thought. Were some of Poseidon's demigod children at camp then? The idea had never crossed his mind. Maybe that was partly why some of the gods were so concerned about this. Hades and Zeus' children might have also come back.
"Then what do you want?" Percy asked her quietly. "What can I do to help you get it?"
Medusa hummed. She looked upwards at where the surface of the water rippled above them. Percy noticed with a grimace there was a calloused scar across her neck. He wondered exactly how many times she had been decapitated. How many people had used her face as a weapon?
"I want to see them," she finally said. "My victims. I want to see them again."
…huh. Percy bit his lip. That felt tricky. He highly doubted anyone would be willing to see Medusa after the petrification process. He wasn't about to bring her to terrify the innocent people she hurt. Gabe, sure, but not the others.
His father's request played in the back of his mind, but Percy resolutely ignored it.
"I will take you to camp," he said slowly. "But you can only see them if they want to see you." Percy paused and reconsidered. "Or maybe I bring them here if they are willing. Athena and my father are at camp."
"Are they?" Medusa murmured. She nodded. "I will go to camp." Percy opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. "I will go," she repeated, almost reassuring him. "And I will let the others come to me only if they wish it."
Did he believe her? Percy stepped back, taking her in. He still didn't have the answers as to what happened to her sight and why people were unpetrified. And bringing her to camp meant putting her in front of other demigods. In front of children. How did he know she wouldn't hurt them?
"I don't want to hurt you," he finally relented. "But if you attack someone other than a god or Gabe, I'll retaliate."
"Gabe?" Medusa asked, and Percy jerked his head back towards the other end of the tank. Chrysaor had vanished from where they had left him, and Annabeth and Thalia were worryingly absent. Percy's shoulders tightened. Had this all been a distraction so he could hurt them? "Sometimes," Medusa commented idly behind him. "I can remember those I've petrified after I die. Just glimpses, really. I remember when the first Perseus killed me. He used my head to petrify a king who harmed his mother… or so the tale goes."
"You remember differently?" Percy asked, climbing out of the tank. He offered her a hand up, still tense at the absence of Thalia and Annabeth.
"Sometimes I swear he gave my head to his mother to kill the king… or perhaps my memories blur," she said. Percy paused, glancing over his shoulder. That was a jab of some sort. Or maybe an offer of sympathy. Something. Either way, he couldn't find the right words to address it, so he just walked down the stairs.
"Chrysaor protects you," he said. Medusa hummed. "How did that work if you attacked him?"
"Multiple times," Medusa said. "Oh, I hated that boy. Pegasus I could live with. He looked nothing like me. Nothing like Poseidon. Chrysaor…" she shook her head. "He felt like a ghost in some ways. Whispers of who I was… of his father. But I knew it wasn't his fault. He couldn't help being born. It took me a hundred years or so, but I eventually understood that. I suppose in that way, I'm lucky. Most mothers don't have a hundred years to right their wrongs. Most mothers don't have sons that would forgive them for such evils." She chuckled. "Granted, it took me several hundred years more to earn his love."
"You're lucky," Percy agreed politely. He felt a sudden stab of unexpected softness for Chrysaor. As disgusting as he felt as a child of Poseidon these days, he couldn't imagine being in his brother's situation. How would he feel if he was a child of his mother and Gabe? Percy honestly wasn't sure he would blame his mother for hating him if that were the case. Maybe he'd give Chrysaor some slack…. if his friends were unharmed.
This was answered by Percy opening a door and Thalia punching him in the face.
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" she greeted. Percy gave her a thumbs up from the ground. "Like, what the fuck? Annabeth, tell him you're breaking up with him."
"What?" Percy said, jolting up.
Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. She crouched in front of him, pointing a finger at the tip of his nose. "I'm this close to chaining us together, Jackson."
"I think that would be more annoying for you than for me."
"I am this close to chaining you to Thalia, then."
Bummer. Percy looked over to where Thalia made a face. "...it won't happen again," he promised, and Annabeth rolled her eyes. She paused when she saw Medusa, eyes moving quickly to a screen off to the side near the door. Percy realized it was a video feed to the back of the aquarium where Percy and Medusa had been. Looks like those poor sea creatures didn't get privacy after all.
He was about to thank his lucky stars that they wouldn't be able to hear the conversation when he caught sight of Chrysaor leaning against the wall.
…had he translated everything for them? Or somehow made it possible for them to hear everything said?
Based on Annabeth's face, the answer was yes.
Nevermind. Chrysaor was an asshole. What the fuck, dude?
Of course, Annabeth probably needed to know the truth about her mother's role in this at some point, but consider: Percy could have done it better. In fact, he had already been considering how to gently explain the situation.
Medusa stiffened when she met Annabeth's gaze, hatred flooding her face before zipping away.
Annabeth straightened her shoulders.
"I spent most of my life trying to ensure I was worthy of my mother's love," she said. Medusa blinked. "I thought it was something earned. That if I made her proud enough, then… I would be worthy of being her daughter, but…" Annabeth shook her head, lips curving into a sad smile. "Over the years, I've learned she judges each action independently. A million wins means nothing if I mess up once. You did nothing wrong. And even if you did, she should have protected you. We were both worthy of the same love she gave Pallas. I'm lucky enough to have found that with other people," she said, looking back at Thalia and Percy. "I hope you do too."
Medusa's eyes moved from Annabeth over to where Chrysaor stood.
"A mother is not entitled to the love she does not give her own child. If she comes to you again… make her earn it," she told Annabeth, lightly touching her arm when she passed.
Annabeth closed her eyes, nodding slowly. She walked over, wordlessly kissing Percy on the cheek before moving the same way Medusa went. Chrysaor fell close behind, leaving Thalia and Percy alone.
"We might have siblings at camp," he said suddenly. Thalia nodded, confirming she had also heard the conversation. "Does… that feel weird for you?"
Thalia touched his lieutenant's band. "Maybe. It isn't like I'll see them much either way," she said a little wistfully. She looked down at her hands. "I mean, maybe if one of them joins the Hunt or something. I don't know."
"You can visit," Percy reassured her, though he was already wondering if Hera would ruin that for her too. Thalia didn't answer as she dragged her feet down the tunnel. "Are you happy?"
Thalia stopped walking, giving a long-suffering sigh.
"Are we due for another heart-to-heart already?" she asked. Percy looked at her. "No. I'm not. My brother is dead. You and I just got on good terms again, and… stop doing stupid shit, Percy. Seriously. It sucks."
"I'm not-"
"I can't die, remember?" Thalia said, spinning around. "I mean, technically, I can fall in battle, but… if I don't get killed?" She looked away, fingers twitching. "I have to be here forever. I get to watch you die. I get to watch Annabeth die. And Grover one day. I won't grow old. I can't fall in love-"
"You want to fall in love?"
Thalia scowled at him. "I don't know, Percy. I was fifteen when I decided to join the Hunt, and I didn't give it much thought."
"Artemis would let you leave, though," Percy said, walking closer. Thalia shrugged him away. "The prophecy is over. She would-"
"It doesn't matter if she would because I'm not going to ask," Thalia said flatly. "Yes, I've been giving it second thoughts now that I know I'll never see Jason again, but it isn't fair if I leave. I made an oath. And even if Artemis lets me leave, that solidifies everything that everyone has already thought of me. That I used the Hunt to escape the prophecy. That I just pawned it off to you."
"Artemis' Hunt is supposed to protect women, right?" Percy pointed out gently. "That's what she did. She offered you protection. You took it. That's it."
Thalia laughed. "And you aren't bitter about it at all, right?"
"Maybe," Percy shrugged. "But I care about you more."
Thalia closed her eyes. "You're such a pain," she whispered. "What are we going to do if Medusa sees your father?" she asked. Percy shrugged. Quite frankly, Medusa was calling the shots there. He didn't want to square up with his dad, but if Medusa rang the bell, he supposed they were going at it in the WWE style. "What are we going to do about Gabe?" Thalia asked.
Percy linked arms with her. "We could feed him to a monster. Hellhounds, maybe?"
"I guess. I think it would be more fun to hit him with a car."
"My bad, I forgot this was a recreational murder," Percy snorted. "In that case, do you think we'd be able to find a way to turn him into a bug or something? We could keep him in a little box and shake it."
"Very specific, but I'll see what I can do. Artemis would probably love it. Can we run over the box with a car?"
"I'm starting to think the real reason you want to age is to get your driver's license, Thalia."
Notes
chapter six
Escorting five people from Atlanta to Long Island was a puzzle, to be sure. Percy considered calling Arion like he had mentioned to Hazel earlier, but considering Chrysaor felt some sort of way about their other horse brother, he decided against it.
Luckily, Chysaor had a minivan… which… honestly was the funniest shit he had ever heard.
"It gets good mileage," Chrysaor grumbled as he unlocked his gold Honda Odyssey.
"You're a pirate," Percy argued as Thalia and Annabeth both loudly began relegating him to the very back of the car due to his 'atrocious behavior on this quest'. Whatever. "Why do you need a minivan?"
"My mother lives in New Jersey. I can't exactly sail to visit her," Chrysaor said as he adjusted his mirrors. "Besides, I like to pile the car with treasure for her."
That was… sweet? If you ignored the fact the treasure came from the people he robbed. Thalia and Annabeth each took their seats in the middle section of the car, now offering to pay for Starbucks if they went through a drive-through.
"I wouldn't mind a matcha latte," Medusa chimed in. Chrysaor sighed and started the car.
Given the situation, Percy expected the 13-hour drive to be awkward and fraught with monster attacks, but it was surprisingly… kind of normal? Chrysaor was all about bragging about his many deeds, while Thalia tried to outdo him with her quests and hunts with Artemis. Annabeth would randomly jump into the conversation to point out facts about some of the buildings they passed.
It was only when Chrysaor finally gave into the Starbucks begging that Percy felt the tentative goodwill crumble away.
"We're at least going inside so I have a chance to stretch my legs," he said, parking the car.
Thalia and Annabeth cheered as Percy unbuckled himself, ignoring his phone buzzing in his pocket as he lightly pulled at Annabeth's curls. "Race you," he whispered in her ear, shoving her back into her seat to dart past her. There was a cry of outrage behind him, and the next thing he knew, his girlfriend tackled him onto the asphalt.
"No seawater to help you out, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said, playfully jabbing his side. He threw her off, moving into a sparring position as he stuck his tongue at her.
"I said race, not fight."
"Scared?"
"Yes," Percy said honestly and reached out to smack her arm. Annabeth dodged, moving to hit him back. A car honked at them, irritably waiting for them to get out of the street onto the sidewalk. Cackling, Percy swept Annabeth up to drag her toward the coffee shop. "Surrender?"
Annabeth flipped herself off Percy's shoulder, kicking the back of his knees so he fell. She held out a pretend gun with her fingers. "Aw, doesn't look like it," she said. Percy raised his hands, pouting a little at his defeat. Laughing, Annabeth kissed the top of his head.
"That's the grossest shit I've ever seen," Thalia said wisely. She looked over at Chrysaor. "Do you see what I have to deal with?"
"I apologize for your suffering, daughter of Zeus."
"Thank you," Thalia grumbled and turned to walk inside. Medusa stood off to the side, watching Annabeth and Percy with deep contemplation. For a moment, he worried they had upset her, but she merely followed them into the shop without another word.
Luckily, the shop wasn't too crowded for them to push some tables together.
"A chai latte, caramel ribbon frappuccino, and strawberry refresher for… Cry-sir?"
"My name should be written in the stars," Chrysaor sighed, and the barista brought out two more drinks. "But little good it will do when mortals can't even read."
"Also, a matcha latte, and…" the barista blinked as she read the last drink. "A blue vanilla frappe?" she tilted her head. "I didn't know we had those."
"Secret menu," Percy called, darting up. The girl laughed as she reached over to hand over the cup. Across her forearm was a simple tattoo of Medusa's face, eyes blank and face cracked. Percy's stomach dropped, suddenly much less interested in his drink.
"Enjoy!" the barista told them, and Percy warily glanced at Medusa as he walked back to the table. He looked down at the blue frappe, feeling like there was some weird symbolism between the girl's arm and his drink that he couldn't quite voice.
Medusa sipped her matcha latte. "I don't mind it," she said, and Percy glanced at her. "The tattoos. I've seen them before. I know what they mean."
Percy knew what they meant, too. It had been how he found out the other version of Medusa's story. His mother had been the one to gently explain to him that her face was often worn by people who had survived assault. It had been a weird thing to digest at the time. That Percy had killed a symbol worn by survivors. It still felt weird.
"It doesn't make you feel…" Percy began, trying to decide how he'd feel if someone plastered his face everywhere like that. "Too seen?" He winced. "Or ashamed?" he added quietly, lowering his voice so Thalia and Annabeth wouldn't hear as they argued passionately with Chrysaor about something or another.
Medusa peered at him. She seemed to like eye contact. Unsurprising given how new it was that she could have it without someone turning into stone. "If I'm ashamed of my face, then that means I am ashamed of those who wear it," she said slowly. "And despite my monstrous tendencies, I cannot do that."
Again, Percy thought to Leo and Clarisse. The frappe tasted bland.
It felt unfair to pick apart Medusa's mind, so he didn't. He just… he didn't understand. How did she do it? How did she feel comfortable enough to just say what happened to her? Was it that so many half-truths had been told that she finally had enough? Would that be what broke Percy?
He grimaced, thinking of all the whispers already said about him. They would get worse. Some people would say Gabe was an angel who protected him. Others would pick up on the fact that was not the case. More versions would come and go, and Percy would be left to choke on a truth that couldn't leave his throat because their getting it right seemed far worse than their getting it wrong.
"You didn't hurt anyone," Medusa said, looking out the window. Percy frowned, wondering if he had somehow said all that out loud… or maybe she read minds. "So you've done better than me."
A funny thing to hear from someone he had once beheaded.
"Why do you want to see your victims?" he asked instead. "I don't think anyone is going to forgive you easily. It's not going to bring you peace."
For a second, he worried he had been too harsh, but Medusa only laughed. "I would be disappointed if they forgave me," she mused. "No. I'm hoping for the opposite. If my sight is truly gone, then I think perhaps my immortality will be too."
….wait.
"You want them to kill you?"
"It's worth a shot," she shrugged. "And if anyone deserves to attempt such a thing, it should be them."
Bruh. He reached up and slapped Thalia's arm. She hissed, swearing with promises to end Percy's bloodline when she turned to hit him back.
"She wants to die!" he whispered, pointing to Medusa, who looked fairly amused by Percy's distress.
"Join the club," Thalia muttered, rubbing her eyes so that her eyeliner smeared, turning her into the rabid raccoon she truly was. "Haven't you died like a bajillion times already?" she asked.
Medusa shrugged. "Yes, but I think now I may die as a mortal could."
Thalia blinked twice before turning to give Percy a death glare. Oh. Right. Maybe he should have tagged Annabeth into this one, given Thalia's most recent feelings about her immortality.
"Well," Thalia finally said, looking back at Medusa. "That's not very punk rock of you."
"What about Chrysaor?" Percy whispered. "Does he know about this?"
"I'm right here," Chrysaor said, fitting a straw under his mask. "And yes, I was the first one she offered to kill her. However, given my fondness for her, I refused."
Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "You were born immortal," she pointed out slowly. "So I kind of doubt that losing your petrification powers would change that."
"We could still try," Medusa shrugged.
"Dude, no," Percy said, running his hand over his face. "I mean- what?" He wrinkled his nose. It felt almost… patronizing? Like, he got the logic behind this, certainly, but also absolutely not. "If my father came up to you and said he was suddenly able to die and offered you the chance to kill him, how would you feel?"
A long pause followed.
"...ah," Medusa said. "Another thing he had control over that I didn't. I could only kill him when he allowed it." She slumped in her seat. "But that isn't what I'm doing!"
"It's how they'll take it, I'm pretty sure."
"What if we pretend you brought me to camp to execute me? And I pleaded for my life, and you allowed them to kill me?"
"Do you really want to be executed in front of Athena and Poseidon, though?" Thalia pointed out. Medusa frowned. "We want them to know your death was on your terms."
Another pause followed.
"Do we need a new destination?" Chrysaor asked. Percy waited, but Medusa stayed quiet. Her eyes drifted between Percy and Annabeth again. "Mother?"
"No," she finally said. "Let us go to camp."
And so they were off again. For some unknown reason, Medusa joined Percy in the backseat for the next few hours. Not speaking. Not engaging. Just… sitting quietly. He felt a bit like she was testing something but couldn't decide what. She seemed content with just watching Annabeth and Percy engage, sometimes teaming up to annoy Thalia until Thalia convinced Annabeth to join her in annoying him.
Eventually, Percy couldn't stand Medusa's quiet eyes, and when they stopped for gas and food, moved up front.
"Don't put your dirty feet on my dash," was all Chrysaor said on the matter. "What was in there?" he added, glancing at the golden dust that covered Percy's clothes like a fine blanket of pollen.
"Harpies," Percy answered. "They were in the bathroom. Annabeth and I took care of them. She and Thalia are getting more snacks." He brought out the package of powdered donuts he had paid for inside the station and offered one.
Chrysaor looked at the donut. Then, to the backseat, where Medusa was using Annabeth's phone to watch a movie. A pair of headphones covered her ears, her snakes all locked onto the screen. Wordlessly, Chrysaor removed his mask and took the donut.
It was a fight not to react. Percy had offered the food out of politeness, but nothing prepared him for suddenly seeing his brother's face. Medusa wasn't kidding when she said he looked like Poseidon. In fact, Percy wasn't entirely convinced his father wasn't sitting next to him. Chrysaor was younger, sure, face smooth and a few shades paler due to the mask always covering him, but everything from the shape of his nose to the curve of his cheek was identical.
…except his eyes. His eyes were brown.
"Don't stare," Chrysaor said, plucking up a donut and popping it into his mouth. "You look like him too."
Percy bit his lip, awkwardly fumbling for another donut. "Why do you wear it around other people?" he couldn't help but ask. "I mean, I get your mom-"
"You don't."
Percy paused. "You're right," he corrected himself. "I don't."
Chrysaor gave him a look of genuine surprise at that… as if he hadn't quite expected Percy to accept being corrected. He licked his thumb free of the donut powder. "It's more memorable. The mask."
"Right," Percy murmured. "You should have been the most famous hero of all time," he recalled. "And now you'll be the most famous villain, right?"
Chrysaor must have caught the dryness in his tone because he snorted. "You don't approve?"
"I don't get the need for fame, really, but I'm not sure why the villainy. Do you like robbing people?"
"My heroic deeds were ignored."
"As far as I can tell, so were you evil ones," Percy said blandly. Chrysaor wrinkled his nose. "Maybe you just need to do something new. Have you considered vigilante work? People love vigilantes. And there are plenty of pirates still around. It would be cool if there was just some masked guy mysteriously taking them out and saving ships," he shrugged.
Chrysaor paused. "Perhaps," he murmured, and Percy offered him another donut for his cooperation on the matter. "When I was young, people would only call me Poseidon's son. As I got older, they saw my face and fell at my feet in awe. Prayed. Worshipped. They thought I was him," he mused. "It felt strange… people worshipping me for my face when my mother tried to scratch it off me. I liked the idea of a fame that stemmed from just my name. My image. Somehow Pegasus managed it. Nobody thinks of him as a son of Poseidon and Medusa. The product of tragedy." Chrysaor glared at the rearview mirror. "But he does not bear resemblance to either parent." He reached for another donut. Percy let him take it. "Perhaps the truth of it is that I am unworthy of fame without my father's face."
Percy picked up the golden mask lying between them. "I highly doubt that," he said, turning the mask over. "Who knows? Maybe you'll take over the ocean from him one day."
Chrysaor snorted. "But haven't you heard, young one? Triton is our father's heir."
A slow smile spread over his face. "I mean, yeah, that's true. Our immortal father's heir is someone of the utmost importance."
"He is very snobbish, is he not?"
"The worst, dude," Percy agreed and felt his phone buzz again. Glancing down, he felt his heart sink and four missed calls and one blaring message from Paul.
I called Chiron. He said you're searching for Medusa?!
Yikes. Percy had texted his mom, saying he had gone straight to camp but hadn't given much other details about why he was no longer visiting her. His mother, who was a pro in dealing with Percy's impromptu adventures by now, would wait for him to call as she always did.
Paul, though? He still thought Percy was dead if he didn't receive an update every hour.
And sure enough, the message on Percy's phone was actually the sixth. He hadn't checked in a bit, so seeing them piled up was a bit like watching a one-man play.
Hey! Your mom said you went to camp. Is everything okay?
Hello???
No rush, but let me know when you're safe.
I've changed my mind. There's a rush.
If you have amnesia again, my name is Paul, I'm your stepfather, and you need to call me so I can come get you before you get kidnapped again.
"We're back!" Annabeth called, slamming the door closed. Chrysaor had already placed his mask back on as Thalia began to pass out sodas. "Also, Chiron IMed me, Percy. Apparently, Paul is calling him?" she said, and Percy groaned.
"I'm on it," he sighed, dialing. It didn't even ring once before the call was picked up. "You have Chiron's number?" he asked, trying and failing not to sound amused by the revelation.
"We're part of the same teacher's union," Paul greeted, and Percy rolled his eyes. "You know, if you're going to have a cellphone that attracts dangerous monsters to you, then you can at least use it to let us know you're not dead."
"I have a special case, remember? No monsters can get me."
"And yet, I can use Find My Friends to see you're in Virginia," Paul threw back. Oh, whatever. This man was petty. "I'm just saying. I don't pay your phone bill, so you can just talk to Annabeth all the time."
"I've been busy, Paul," Percy sighed, slumping in his seat. "We're heading to camp right now."
"We? Who is we?"
"Thalia and Annabeth," Percy said and considered. "And my brother and his mom."
A long pause followed.
"Which brother?" Paul asked suspiciously.
Right. Chrysaor wasn't actually that famous, despite his insistence he should be. Surely, it was fine. "Chrysaor," he said. "Anyways-"
"Medusa's son?!" Paul shouted, almost making Percy drop the phone.
"He's heard of me!" Chrysaor noted, looking pleased. Fucking Hell. How could he forget? Paul was a nerd. Of course, he knew who Chrysaor was. He probably digested every book on Greece the second the Titan War ended.
"So you found Medusa? And she's with you?" Paul asked, sounding on the verge of a panic attack.
Percy looked back at where Medusa was eating some Takis. ".... it's a long story."
"GET HIS ASS, PAUL!" Thalia called, and Percy threw a water bottle at her. "You won't believe the shit he pulled in the aquarium-"
"Shut up!" he hissed at her. "You're going to freak him out!"
"No, he deserves to know!" Thalia said and reached for the phone. "Give it to me-"
"No! Annabeth, get her off!"
"Annabeth, help me get the phone from him!"
"Thalia, Percy, no, stop it, don't," Annabeth said flatly, flipping through a magazine. Chrysaor, being nothing but a nuisance, yanked the phone from Percy's hand and threw it back. Thalia shrieked in victory but ended up hitting the phone further back.
Medusa looked over from where she was still watching videos on Annabeth's phone and picked it up. "Hello?" she asked and Percy buried his hands in his face. "This is Medusa… Oh, hello… uh-huh….hm… Well, you see, my powers of petrification have recently stopped working, and my statues returned to their original forms, which is why he's come to find me…. Yes, they are alive, as far as I know. Perseus said they're at camp… Uh-huh, even the mortals… Oh, I will. Nice to meet you, child. Have a lovely day." She handed the phone back. "He said he had to go," she told them.
Everyone in this car was the worst. But at least the rest of the trip was uneventful. The next few hours to camp included the following:
Brainstorming Chrysaor's new vigilante persona
Annabeth and Percy singing karaoke
Thalia trying to convince everyone could beat box (she could not)
Medusa making everyone lose their shit with the revelation her snakes could beatbox
So not a bad drive, really. Percy would almost say it was fun. Annabeth was in the middle of giving a TED Talk on how several design changes could have stopped the Titanic from sinking when they pulled up to camp. The car went deadly silent.
Chrysaor turned off the car.
"Mother," he said slowly. "If nobody wants to see you, and asking them to kill you seems underhanded…why are we here?"
Medusa grimaced. Thalia's tree swayed in the wind. "You said you will give my victims the choice to speak to me?" she asked. Percy nodded. "If they have something to say, I would like to give them the chance to voice it. As for me, I would like the choice to speak to Athena and Poseidon."
Chrysaor tapped the steering wheel at that, anxiety rolling off of him in waves.
"Are you sure?" Annabeth asked. "You don't have to unless you're sure. It isn't a requirement for you to get closure," she added gently.
Medusa gestured for them to open the door. "It is not about closure," she said simply. "For over a thousand years, I've had nothing to say to them. Now, I do."
Annabeth and Percy exchanged wary looks.
"Okay," Annabeth said and opened the door.
They all filed out as Chrysaor left to park. Percy checked his phone again, wondering again if he should reach out to his mom about Gabe. He'd wait a bit longer. Just a bit. To sort things out more. One problem at a time.
"I'm going to go give Grover and the others a heads up," Thalia murmured, brushing by him. The comment almost made him trip. Grover. Fuck. Percy was the worst. The absolute worst. Grover had just reunited with his uncle, and here Percy was, dragging the woman who had separated their family back over to them.
Percy thought he had been taking the victims seriously, but had he? Had Gabe tainted his view of them? Was he so blinded by Medusa's horrors that he completely overlooked-
"Percy," Annabeth said gently. "Stop it. I know what's going on in that seaweed brain of yours."
"How are you not spiraling?" he asked her. Granted, Annabeth spiraled about different things. It was the nice thing about them. They were a Venn diagram of sorts (a nerdy word he'd picked up for the girlfriend in question). Different in most ways, but there were overlaps here and there. On things like right and wrong, people they loved, respect for one another - all that good stuff.
And while Percy loved what they were aligned on, he was desperately grateful for the things they weren't. Because if Annabeth was also freaking out right now? They'd be cooked.
"Because we can handle this," Annabeth told him, keeping her voice low. Medusa was off to the side, patiently waiting for them to finish the conversation a respectful distance away as Thalia jogged over the camp boundary. Annabeth gripped Percy's arm. "There isn't a perfect answer for every action. Sometimes we just do our best. Medusa hurt people. She was also hurt. We are navigating how we can. I trust your judgment on this. Do you trust mine?" Percy nodded, feeling a little silly as he did. Right. Annabeth wouldn't have let them do this if she thought it was a bad idea. "Then we're okay," she said and poked him in the chest. "And you're buying me ice cream later."
"It's your turn to buy me ice cream," he muttered, shoulders relaxing at Annabeth's nose wrinkling in offense.
"That was before you ditched me in the aquarium. You're lucky that is the only compensation I'm demanding," she said, poking his forehead. Percy playfully tried to bite it, making her scoff. Medusa was watching them again. He wished he knew what she was thinking.
"WE'RE GOOD!" Thalia called from the top of the hill.
Onto the next stressful thing.
The gods were all gathered outside of the Big House near the Volleyball pit. At first glance, it looked a bit like a barbeque with them all gathered around, chatting idly with one another, but Percy knew better. A tension wafted over them, Zeus sitting at a picnic table with dark eyes shifting at their approach.
The murmuring grew quieter as they approached. Chiron stepped up, placing himself between them and the gods as he rolled his shoulders back.
"Medusa," Zeus finally said, standing up. A flash of light came, and his masterbolt was in hand. "I cannot say we necessarily expected such a peaceful arrival." Medusa didn't answer. She just looked at him, brows raised. A few gods shifted nervously. "Your creations have returned to their original forms. Do you care to tell us why?"
"I do not know, my lord," Medusa said. "I can no longer petrify a mortal with my gaze. I have no answers as to why."
Another murmur. Annabeth nudged Percy, nodding subtly further back to where Athena and Poseidon were on the porch of the Big House, both eerily still.
Zeus turned to Thalia. "And do you, daughter? Do you have answers as to why?"
Thalia glanced at Percy. "No," she answered. "Given the circumstances, we did not think it was entirely relevant."
An angry buzz followed.
"Why would it be?" Dionysus drawled out. "It's just a very powerful, mysterious being undoing our magic at a whim. No cause for concern, I'm sure."
"Could be one of us," Ares suggested. "Stone falls into Hephaestus' realm, does it not? Perhaps he undid the curse-"
"Do not drag me into this," Hephaestus sneered. "Especially when it seems like a perfectly logical ploy to get Poseidon and Athena warring against one another."
"Or," Artemis said suspiciously. "A new test for their children. In fact, a certain romantic might enjoy the torment…"
"Jealousy is unflattering, darling." Aphrodite tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Maybe-"
"Enough," Zeus rumbled, shutting everyone up. He ran a hand over his face, brows furrowed. "If you do not have answers, gorgon, why come here?"
Medusa stiffened. She looked over her shoulder, off towards the cabins where, no doubt, all the other campers and mortals were swept away. Then to where Athena and Poseidon were standing.
"I have something to say," she said, voice slow. Careful. Measure. "Poseidon. Athena." Everyone turned to where the gods stood on the porch, still silently watching. Athena nodded, and Medusa took a measured breath. "For many years, I've had nothing to say to either of you. Only anger and pain to which impacted you very little… but now, time has passed, I have seen and learned and made horrible mistakes. Now, I do have something to say." She smiled a little. "I very much like your children."
…okay. Percy wasn't sure he expected that. He and Annabeth exchanged bewildered looks. Why was that in any way profound?
"Thank you," Poseidon began cautiously, but Medusa shook her head.
"I don't think you understand. To hate a god is to hate the world. I worshiped the sea because it was home. I worshiped wisdom because of the heart it showed Pallas." Medusa looked to Athena. "And while you were not brave enough to show that heart easily, your daughter is. Perhaps you, Lord Poseidon, are not big enough to face up to difficult sins, but your son is. The pieces of you I loved and worshiped still exist in the world without the evils of you attached. I can see wisdom and sea in their faces as much as I see it in yours. Perhaps you are the waves and books, but I need not fear every drop of water or turn of a page."
Medusa looked again over towards the cabins. "I understand I have hurt many people. But I also understand that no matter what I do… I won't be clean of it. I do not expect forgiveness nor for anyone to ignore my crimes. But," Medusa folded her hands in front of her, shoulders moving back. "I will find a way to live with myself. And to live in a world with you both in it." She smiled. "I dare say, if you can both do good deeds, I should be able to as well."
Annabeth looked at Medusa, eyes gleaming with pride and shame at once. Percy understood the sentiment. It was a strange place to stand in between them. Watching your parents shamed and you praised at once. Poseidon and Athena also seemed torn by the onslaught of insults and compliments spilling in front of everyone.
"I-" Poseidon began, but Medusa shook her head.
"Nothing you say is helpful," she told him flatly. To which, damn. A flash of irritation crossed his father's face, but it quickly disappeared. At least he knew when to keep quiet. She bowed to the gods, turning away to point at Percy. "I would like to speak to you alone."
Uh… hm. not ideal, but sure. Annabeth squeezed his arm once.
"Why?" Poseidon interjected, a note of anxiety sweeping his tone. There was a protective glint there that made Percy even more frustrated. He had no right. Especially not now. Especially not with her.
He went to say as much, but a new voice cut in. "No need to worry, Father," Chrysaor said. He jammed his keys in his pocket. "My mother is friendly with my brother. And if you're worried about her turning him against you…" Chrysaor turned his gold mask in Percy's direction, something probing and pointed in his eyes. "Well, Perseus understands that perhaps he is not the son who should confront you in this regard."
Chrysaor's mask was still firmly in place, but now that Percy had seen his face, he felt like he couldn't unsee it. In his mind, Chrysaor's brows were raised, lips pursed. Right. This particular burden is mine, it seemed to say. And maybe that was true. Percy's relationship with his father would forever be changed, surely, but he also knew if he was Chrysaor… well, maybe Percy was Clarisse or Leo in this situation.
Stepping away, he followed Medusa toward the beach. Neither said a word as they walked, the water splashing against their ankles as they approached the waves. Medusa kept walking. And walking. Percy followed, letting the currents push them back and forth until both were under the water, moving deeper until the surface of the waves was a good ten feet above them.
Medusa sat down, head tilted to where the water was crashing gently above them.
"You came home," he said and sat beside her.
Medusa hummed. "It isn't my home anymore," she said, sounding almost relieved. "I came back into the water just to be sure." She brushed her hands over the ground beside her. "You're struggling," she said. Percy looked away. "I know why."
"Do you?" he murmured. His nose wrinkled at the knowledge Gabe was somewhere nearby, roaming with his friends, his family... "I- I'm not sure I can talk about it," he admitted, face heating up despite the chill of the water. "Which is stupid, I know, but… I don't know. I can't talk about a lot of things, if I'm honest. People ask me about Kronos and Gaea and Tartarus, but… I've actually never been good at telling people what's happened to me. If I do, it needs to be censored or a joke or…" He shook his head. "It's really hard." He bit his tongue, staring out at the emptiness in front of them. "I could never do what you did. Just saying things like that."
"I've had thousands of years to get brave enough to do it."
"I kind of doubt I'll get that time," he admitted. "Look, I don't know… what exactly you remember when my mom petrified Gabe with your head, but- I- I don't want you to think that… That you and I are…" His voice faltered. "I mean, what Gabe did to me was-" He let out a frustrated breath. "It isn't the same, is what I'm saying. To you. I- fuck," he muttered.
"Don't say more. You're not ready," Medusa said. "And your suffering does not need to be the same as mine for me to be empathetic." Right. Completely. "Look at me." Percy did. He still couldn't believe her eyes were brown for some reason. Something about it made him sad, but he couldn't figure out why. "I would like to tell you a hard truth," Medusa said. "But I think it could help."
Percy was exhausted of truths, but he supposed he couldn't exactly run forever.
"Some will tell you that you'll find peace through vengeance. Some will tell you that you'll find peace through forgiveness." Medusa shook her head. "They can both make you feel better. But truthfully? A dog has not nipped your arm, Perseus. A wolf has torn off a limb. You don't heal back to what you were before. You adjust. You change. You take what has happened and learn to live with it - and learn to live better."
Percy shook his head. "What about justice?" he asked quietly.
Medusa chuckled. "Justice," she repeated. "A nice bonus, ideally. But let's be honest. What was stolen from us cannot be stolen from them. Nothing we do can harm them as they harmed us. It will never be the same. Besides, that's about the wolf. Not you. And at the end of the day, if you are in a cage with the wolf, it doesn't necessarily matter if you kill the wolf or forgive it. What matters is that you leave the cage." She reached over to grab his hand. "There are better things outside of it. At least," she smiled wryly. "We must hope so. Otherwise, we'll just end up in another cage."
Percy felt tears prick at his eyes.
"I'm sorry I killed you," he whispered.
Medusa chuckled. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you," she said simply and stood up. "I'm sorry for much of what I've done, but that's for me to live with." She offered him a hand. "I'm heading back up," she said, and Percy let her hoist him to his feet. "It's time to go home."