Maisie Kline didn't want to be a half-blood...but she is.
So you might as well read her story.
percy jackson x femoc 🩵
tlt: ✅
tsom: ✅
ttc: ✅
tbol:in progress
tlo:...
-cover art from @samdoesart on instagram
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The towns were zipping by faster now, islands of light thicker together, until the whole landscape below was a glittering carpet. Dawn was close. The eastern sky was turning gray. And up ahead, a huge white-and-yellow glow spread out before them—the lights of New York.
How's that for speedy, boss? Blackjack bragged. We get extra hay for breakfast or what?
"You're the man, Blackjack," Percy told him. "Er, the horse, I mean."
Flying was bad enough for a son of Poseidon, but flying straight towards Zeus' castle was way worse. Percy didn't sleep the whole flight. He just focused on readjusting Maisie every once in a while so she wouldn't fall off.
"Is she alright?" Annabeth asked as her winged horse flew up next to theirs.
"Think so," Percy said. "She's just exhausted. She hasn't slept in days."
Annabeth nodded. Then after a minute she said, "You don't believe me about Luke. But we'll see him again. He's in trouble, Percy. He's under Kronos's spell."
Percy didn't feel like arguing, though it made him mad. How could she possibly make excuses for that creep? He deserved that fall. He...deserved it. Percy had to admit it to himself. Luke deserved to die. Unlike Bianca. Unlike Zoë. Luke just couldn't be alive. It wouldn't be fair.
"There it is." Thalia's voice; she'd woken up. She was pointing toward Manhattan, which was quickly zooming into view. "It's started."
"What's started?" Percy asked.
Then he looked where she was pointing. High above the Empire State Building, Olympus was its own island of light, a floating mountain ablaze with torches and braziers, white marble palaces gleaming in the early morning air.
"The winter solstice," Thalia said. "The Council of the Gods."
They circled over midtown Manhattan, making one complete orbit around Mount Olympus. Percy'd only been there once before, traveling by elevator up to the secret six hundredth floor of the Empire State Building. This time, if it was possible, Olympus amazed him even more.
In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from blood-red to indigo. Apparently no one ever slept on Olympus. The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. Winter didn't seem to exist. Percy caught the scent of the gardens in full bloom, jasmine and roses and even sweeter things he couldn't name. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes.
