46The place was like a castle, a stone fortress on the edge of a cliff. Despite the bright white surrounding and covering it, a dark, ominous aura still hung heavily in the air, nearly suffocating with its immense pressure. Then again, Father did say it was a military school.
"Westover Hall, huh?" he muttered, pulling his hood lower over his face. The flurries of snow pelted his deceptively-thin sweater, making it nearly impossible to see anything. For someone accustomed to darkness, the white-out was actually painful for his eyes. Squinting, he trudged through the snow, black steel-toed combat boots sinking halfway up to the ankles with every step. Finally, he came upon the massive wooden reinforced doors, and shoved them open, quickly stomping the slush off his boots. A few shakes threw off the snow covering him, and he rubbed his palms together, blowing on them and willing his blood to flow to his fingertips. No matter how much heat his jacket insulated, his hands could never seem to stay warm.
"Why does this place have to be in Maine?" he muttered. "Northern winters are so obnoxious." He followed the thumping of the music, and entered what he assumed to be the gymnasium, where there was a party going on. Girls huddled together in packs, occasionally dragging in an unfortunate boy, only to spit him out a few minutes with makeup all over his face. Most of the boys stayed on the far side of the court, playing basketball. There was the occasional male-female pair that were dancing together, simply enjoying the atmosphere and music, while the last few stragglers leaned up against the walls, or stood by the punch bowl, taking stoic sips of their drinks. His onyx eyes quickly picked out the people he was looking for.
A blonde girl with storm-gray eyes was dancing awkwardly with a curly-haired guy who already had facial hair, despite looking so young. Elsewhere in the gym, a spiky-haired girl wearing a Death to Barbie shirt was dragging around a dark-haired boy with sea-green eyes, though they weren't quite focused on each other, gazes darting around the room nervously. And then, he found his targets.
A young, dark-haired boy standing next to a taller girl, who wore a floppy green hat which hid most of her face. The boy was shuffling a deck of cards in his hand, chattering excitedly, much to the fond exasperation of his older sister. However, the instant he identified them, he felt a piercing stare on the side of his head. Twitching, he flicked his pupils in that direction, and caught a glimpse of a uniformed man with cropped gray hair. In that instant, they became aware of each other's presence, and knew that the other knew they were here, and the race was on. He immediately began swimming through the crowd, shoving and shouldering and elbowing people out of his way, while the man seemed to have a much easier time of it. He likely had a reputation for being uptight, and nobody took the chance to tick him off, so they parted like the Red Sea, making him scowl.
He redoubled his efforts, but it was to no avail. The man reached the siblings first, quickly barking orders at them. The children, cowed by his overwhelming authority, put up no resistance and followed the man out of a side-passage. Swearing so viciously that even a few students around him recoiled, he made his way to a dark corner. He snapped his fingers, weaving a bit of Mist to ensure nobody saw anything particularly out of the ordinary, then dropped into the shadows.
He reappeared in front of Westover Hall, and simply stood in the shade of the treeline, waiting. A minute later, and the trio appears, accompanied by the turquoise-eyed boy from before. He was clutching his shoulder, as if injured, and that's when he saw the spiked tail protruding behind the man.
A Manticore?This will be a challenge. Seems like that boy was poisoned, he realized, noting how the wounded boy was stumbling. Manticore poison caused intense pain, making it difficult to walk, let alone fight. He wasn't going to be getting any help from that guy, and he wasn't particularly counting on the other three demigods inside (although, he was pretty sure one of them was a Satyr, considering the age dysphoria- a middle schooler with facial hair and acne? Kind of a giveaway. Plus, demigods didn't even get acne. Perks of being part divine).
The Manticore prodded the three kids into the forest, leading them to a clearing, and he followed, sticking to the shadows and hoping the whimpering of those three would hide the sound of snow crunching under his boots. Thankfully, it seemed to do the trick, since the Manticore didn't glance his way even once. They stopped near the edge of the cliff, and the Manticore pulled a phone out of his trenchcoat.
"The package is ready for delivery," he said, with a thick accent. It almost sounded French, which was weird, because the dude was a Greek monster. The turquoise-eyed boy glanced at the edge of the cliff, and the Manticore laughed. "By all means, Son of Poseidon, jump! There is the sea- save yourself!"
Well, that confirms that theory. No sense putting it off any longer. He crouched down, digging through the snow so he could place his palm flat against the frozen earth, and extended his sense. Only twenty feet down? And twelve of them? Talk about creepy. Then again, it wasn't like he had any room to talk, all things considered. His power pulsed, and moments later, a dozen skeletons popped up behind the Manticore. He didn't waste a second, rushing out from the treeline as soon as his minions sprouted, drawing the Stygian Iron sword strapped across his back.
"What is this!?" the Manticore raged, shaking off the first skeleton when it latched onto his waist. His tail flailed violently, spikes firing and nailing over half the undead warrior in the skull, crushing their craniums. However, they didn't stop charging, and the one closest tackled his legs from behind, sending the monster down to one knee. The Manticore roared, and moments later, it transformed into its true form, human body becoming that of a lion, while its tail grew larger.
By this time, he'd reached the rampaging monster, stabbing forward with his sword. The Manticore was as quick as he'd expected, though, and slid out the way, only suffering a light graze that trimmed its thick fur. A massive paw batted at him, only for the vicious claws to be blocked by the sword. While it was distracted, a skeleton managed to get close enough to poke the monster in both its yellow eyes moments before the tail crashed into it. Screeching in pain, the Manticore's tail lashed out, firing spikes wildly. Five skeletons were shattered by the blind shots, and this time, they stayed down. It didn't matter, however, because a dark blade slipped into its neck. The Manticore struggled for a bit, but eventually went still, and crumbled into black ash, the dust absorbed by the Stygian Iron.
He breathed out, calming himself from the rush of adrenaline, then sheathed his blade while releasing his hold on his undead warriors. They fell apart, aged bones scattered across the clearing, nearly blending in with the snow.
"Woah! What the heck was that!" the short boy asked. He began hopping up and down, and looked ready to rush over and pester him, but the girl clamped a hand down on her brother's shoulder.
"Nico, wait!" she said sternly, staring at the place where the Manticore had been warily, as if she expected it to come back to life.
"But Bianca-!" Nico whined, only to be shushed harshly.
The Son of Poseidon shuffled forward. "Uh, hey. Thanks for the assist. I don't think I've seen you around…?" He trailed off, obviously expecting him to introduce himself. When he remained silent, the boy's mouth twitched into a slight frown. "I'm Orion, by the way. Son of Poseidon."
He nodded, then walked past Orion, towards the siblings. Bianca dragged her brother back a step, making sure there was a certain amount of distance between them. He narrowed his eyes.
"I've been sent to retrieve you two," he said gruffly, slightly annoyed.
"Are you with Luke?" Orion asked, suddenly hostile. A trident popped out and was pointed at him, though the Son of Poseidon didn't pose much of a challenge at the moment. The Manticore poison running through his veins ensured that.
"No. I'm not with the Titans," he said, and any further conversation was interrupted by the two other demigods and the Satyr running into the clearing.
"Orion, what the Hades do you think you're doing!?" the punk girl yelled angrily, spear crackling with electricity and shield brandished. A Daughter of Zeus, apparently. He twitched, though that was mostly due to the casual mention of Father's name, rather than Medusa's gruesome visage on the replica of the Aegis.
"Thorn dragged them out here! I couldn't find any of you guys, so I had to follow!" Orion cried defensively. His trident vanished, and he was cradling his shoulder once more.
"So you had to follow the unknown monster without any backup!? Great plan, Kelp Head!"
The blonde placed a hand on the Daughter of Zeus' shoulder, shaking her head. "Forget it, Thalia. Thorn's dead, let's just grab these two and get back to camp." Finally, she noticed him, and she raised a Celestial Bronze dagger threateningly. "Who are you?"
"Wait, I think this guy's on our side," Orion said, holding up a hand to stall any potential attacks. "He's the one that killed Thorn, and he said he's not with Luke."
"You're gonna believe whatever he says, then?" Thalia asked with a scoff. She adjusted her grip on the shaft of her spear and turned her piercing gaze on him. "Who the Hades are you?"
His eye twitched. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't use Father's name like that," he muttered, making the others recoil.
"You're a Son of Hades?"
He ignored them, turning to Nico and Bianca. "You two, come. We don't have time to waste." Orion stepped between them, staring at him suspiciously.
"You said you were here to retrieve them- what does Hades want?"
He rolled his eyes and jabbed the Son of Poseidon in the kidney. When Orion hunched over, he shoved the boy out of his way, then advanced upon the two siblings. His hand was inches away from grabbing on Bianca's shoulder, before a silver flash passed between them, and he froze. His head swiveled to the side, and caught a glimpse of the feathery fletching of a silver arrow, before it disappeared over the side of the cliff. Slowly, he raised his hands into the air, and within half a minute he was surrounded by a group of young ladies wearing silver parkas, pointing their bows at him. The front of the circle closed tighter, forcing him away from Nico and Bianca, though each step backwards was reluctant.
"The Hunters," Thalia muttered, sounding somewhat agitated. The girl directly in front of him, with the copper skin and a silver circlet in her dark hair, glared at Thalia. Seemed like they didn't get along- not that it was his business.
"Lady Artemis," he greeted, offering the auburn twelve-year-old who walked up to him a nod, ignoring the gasps behind him at the revelation of her identity. She narrowed her eyes.
"Boy," she said dismissively, passing her gaze over the rest of the non-Hunters. "Four demigods and a Satyr. You," she pointed at the blonde, "Speak. What is your purpose here?"
"Um, greetings, Lady Artemis!" the girl said, offering a quick bow. "I'm Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena. Orion, Thalia, and I have been sent by Chiron to help get the di Angelos," she gestured at Nico and Bianca, "Get to Camp. Grover's the one that found them here," she finished, pointing at the Satyr.
"Lady Artemis, can I just say, you are so… So, wow!" the Satyr piped up, eyes sparkling with awe.
Artemis ignored Grover, instead turning to him. "If only you four were sent by Chiron, then who is this one?" she asked.
"I... Don't know," Annabeth choked out, as if her ignorance hurt her. Considering she was a Daughter of Athena, it actually might have.
"He said he was here to retrieve the di Angelos, too," Orion jumped in. "He's a Son of Hades, apparently."
Artemis spared Orion a glance, before focusing her full attention on him. She opened her mouth, no doubt to demand answers, before the chopping of helicopter blades caught everyone's attention. The aircraft came to a stop twenty feet above the cliff, hovering in place. Then, there was gunfire. The Huntresses scattered, while Artemis remained where she was.
"Mortals are not permitted to witness my Hunt," she intoned severely, raising her hand. Magic twisted through the air, and the chopper exploded into a flock of ravens, which flew off into the distance.
He didn't let this golden opportunity pass him by. While everyone else ran for cover, he bolted towards the di Angelos, grabbing each by the arm and dragging them to the treeline. A shrill whistle passed between his lips as he tossed them towards the shade, and a moment later, two sets of red eyes blinked into appearance. A pair of Hellhounds melted out of the darkness, one grabbing Nico and the other Bianca, before dragging them back into the shadows, disappearing to the Underworld. Not a second too soon, as a weight slammed into his back, sending him to the ground- though, he suspected his assailant had hurt themselves in the process when they'd driven their knee into his spine.
"What did you do!?" a girl shouted in his ear, and he glanced back to see it was the one with the tiara. She must've been the Lieutenant. He didn't answer, instead allowing her to drag him up to his knees. Artemis walked around to stand in front of him, the Lieutenant next to her, favoring her right leg. He gave the girl a cheeky grin, and she slapped him across the face- only to snatch her hand back with a gasp as her wrist broke upon contact with his cheek.
Artemis' eyes widened, and she waved her hand, silver light encompassing the Lieutenant's injuries. Then, she grabbed him by the collar of his sweater and hauled him to his feet, forcing him to hunch over slightly so they were on the same level.
"What have you done?" she hissed.
"I did what Father ordered," he replied simply, only for the goddess to drive a fist into his gut, enhanced strength forcing the air out of his lungs.
"As I thought," she hissed, shaking her hand out. Her knuckles were bruised, though the discoloration faded quickly. "The Curse of Achilles."
He coughed a bit, and did his best to straighten up. He probably had some internal bruising, at the very least. "Maybe," he wheezed, taking a sick amount of pleasure in the way the Lieutenant stepped forward to strike him again, before remembering how futile it was and backing off, fists clenched in frustration.
"Zoe, we will rest here for a few hours. Raise the tents, and collect our guests' belongings from the school. I will deal with the boy."
Zoe nodded, shot him a filthy glare, and stalked off to do her mistress' bidding. Meanwhile, said mistress turned back to him.
"What is your name, boy?"
"Perseus Jackson."
