36. The Archive of Alternate Endings, Part 1

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After the Greek and Roman council at the Big House, Annabeth and Reyna tried to contact archaic or obscure Greco-Roman gods, just to see if they could. Annabeth wanted an excuse to spend more time with Reyna. They went to the edge of camp, near the woods. 

Together, they poured through carefully selected gods from Ceric Lang's book. As Annabeth turned the pages, Reyna's hand brushed hers.

They were just about to give up when Reyna spotted bright lights dance across the horizon, just outside the magical borders of Camp Half-Blood. The lights could have been mistaken for a natural phenomenon for anyone else who had happened to look in the right direction, but the two girls knew what it meant. 

"There are still some gods left," muttered Reyna. "There's still magic." 

"Maybe the gods who weren't powerful enough to alter mortals' lives are still around," agreed Annabeth. 

"Or maybe they were powerful enough," said Reyna, whose name meant queen, "but they chose not to exercise their power at the expense of mortals." 

Reyna's musing put Annabeth in a contemplative mood. 

Annabeth's time spent peeling away layers of the Mist had revealed complexity underneath simplicity. Information that Annabeth had thought was simple was complicated.

The idea about lights in the sky made Annabeth revise her feelings about mortals and their sciences.

Science wasn't wrong. Science was the investigation of the top layer of the Mist, and mortals were highly proficient in operating in that area. They had cell phones that could tell what side of the street Annabeth was standing on, all without the use of magic.

Sure, they couldn't understand monster attacks. So what? That didn't make their version of reality any less valuable, any less real, than Annabeth's. 

Annabeth and Reyna had left the Big House together. She imagined someone looking at them from the outside: a Greek and a Roman working together. Their versions of the gods weren't any less real, either. 

The sun had begun to set and painted the sky with brilliant hues.

Reyna looked toward Annabeth with a tilted head, like she was trying to read Annabeth's mind. They had been sitting together in comfortable silence for some time. 

Annabeth felt her face grow warm. She looked at the trees. 

The old trees had seen a lot of changes at the camp. Many of them, and their nymphs, were here before Annabeth had been born and they would remain after she died.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Reyna. 

"The gods are like monsters," she answered.

"How so?"

"Well," said Annabeth. She started scratching a pattern into the dirt with the sole of her shoe. "Monsters come from, like, the barbarism that swirls beneath civilization, right? And gods are manifestations of civilization itself. But, like, monsters and gods aren't diametrically opposed opposites; time caused them to develop their own personalities. They're individuals. So some of the monsters developed a conscience. Some of the gods turned cruel."

"Gods and monsters arose from different aspects of civilization," said Reyna, "but sometimes it's hard to tell them apart."

Reyna's skin glowed golden in the light. Annabeth admired her beauty. She admired the way that Reyna had summarized her thoughts so beautifully. 

There was an ancient Greek philosopher—Annabeth couldn't quite remember which one—who had taught his students to perceive the physical beauty of a person, then, once they could grasp the idea, he taught them to admire beauty of the mind. 

She found herself thinking about the idea of beauty as she looked at Reyna. Annabeth appreciated the very idea, itself, of beauty: a beauty that was eternal, unchanging, absolute. 

Annabeth studied the indentations of dirt she had made with her shoe. Maybe gods and monsters served as symbols or archetypes for ideas that were difficult to visualize. 

It didn't feel like a complete explanation. There was room for improvement, but Annabeth could live with that. 

Annabeth said, "Enough about my thoughts. How's your heart feeling these days?'

"I feel good," said Reyna. The wind blew her long, dark hair. "My heart is full. I'm actually really happy. I can't remember the last time I felt so...happy. Thank you, Annabeth. I mean it."

They embraced. Annabeth thought she heard a sniffle. Was Reyna, the stoic Roman leader, getting teary-eyed in public? 

"I love you," said Annabeth. As soon as she said it, she knew it to be true. 

Another sniffle. Annabeth could hear the smile in her voice. "Yeah. You so do."

Annabeth wasn't sure what it was, but a warm strength flowed to her heart. She felt sure of herself. She replied, "I do."

Reyna released Annabeth from the hug. Reyna's eyes closed, gently. Even her eyelashes caught the golden light from the setting sun. 

Annabeth took a chance. 

There, at the edge of the woods, two girls kissed. 




(Continued in next part)

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