This Dark Night ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹

―v. fatal flaw

[tw: suicidal thoughts/ideation]

BACK AT THE CLIFF, Mrs. O'Leary had found a friend.

A cozy campfire crackled in a ring of stones. A girl about eight years old was sitting cross-legged next to Mrs. O'Leary, scratching the hellhound's ears.

The girl had mousy brown hair and a simple brown dress. She wore a scarf over her head so she looked like a pioneer kid—like the ghost of Little House on the Prairie or something. She poked the fire with a stick, and it seemed to glow more richly red than a normal fire.

"Hello," she said.

To Naomi's surprise, Nico bowed to the little girl. "Hello again, Lady."

She studied Percy and Naomi with eyes as red as firelight. The two decided it was best to bow.

"Sit, Percy Jackson, Naomi Sakura," she said. "Would you like some dinner?"

After staring at moldy peanut butter sandwiches and burnt cookies, Naomi didn't have much of an appetite, but the girl waved her hand and a picnic appeared at the edge of the fire. There were plates of roast beef, baked potatoes, buttered carrots, fresh bread, and a whole bunch of other foods Naomi hadn't had in a long time. Naomi's stomach growled. It was the kind of home-cooked meal people are supposed to have, but never do. The girl even made a five-foot-long dog biscuit appear for Mrs. O'Leary, who happily began tearing it to shreds.

Naomi sat down between Nico and Percy. They picked up their food.

Partly out of instinct, partly out of muscle memory, Naomi scraped part of her meal into the flames, just like they did at camp. "For the gods."

The little girl smiled. "Thank you. As tender of the flame, I get a share of every sacrifice, you know."

"I recognize you now," Percy said. "The first time I came to camp, you were sitting by the fire, in the middle of the commons area."

"You did not stop to talk," the girl recalled sadly. "Alas, most never do. Nico talked to me. He was the first in many years. Everyone rushes about. No time for visiting family."

"You're Hestia," Naomi realized, and her heart dropped. "The goddess of the hearth."

Darkness unbound snuffs out the flames.

Hestia fixed her all-knowing eyes on Naomi. There was no anger in them, nor apprehension. She was only observing her, like she was half-curious, half-sympathetic.

"I am, Naomi."

"My lady," Nico asked, "why aren't you with the other Olympians fighting Typhon?"

"I'm not much for fighting." Her red eyes flickered. Naomi realized they weren't just reflecting the flames—they were filled with flames. Though these flames were warm and cozy compared to Ares's fiery glare.

"Besides," she said, "someone has to keep the home fires burning while the other gods are away."

Her eyes remained on Naomi. She almost wished the goddess would glare—it would've made her feel less like a total monster for considering the mysterious voice's offer.

"So you're guarding Mount Olympus?" Percy asked.

"'Guard' may be too strong a word. But if you ever need a warm place to sit and a home-cooked meal, you are welcome to visit. Now eat."

Before Naomi knew it, her plate was empty. Percy and Nico scarfed their meals down just as fast.

"That was great," Percy said. "Thank you, Hestia."