Something Wicked This Way Comes

Chapter 13

Jim pulled himself into the crow's nest, trying not to fall back down the ladder as the ship swayed back and forth.

"Thanks," Jamie's voice startled him. He was perched on the rail, wind ruffling his hair. "For the advice."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, glancing at Jim. She smiled. "Hey."

"Hey," Jim greeted.

"I'll take that as my cue," the son of Skrael said, shooting Claire a smile. He stepped off the rail, floating onto the deck.

Jim took a seat beside his girlfriend. "What was that about?"

"Girl trouble." Claire said. "He wanted some advice."

"Huh." Jim nudged her shoulder with his own. "Didn't know you were a giver of romantic advice."

Claire gave him that look she got when she thought he was stupid but also really cute. "What's up?"

"Oh you know..." he sighed, leaning against the mast. "Just worrying about... them."

"The gays?"

"Yeah."

She pursed her lips. "I hope they're okay."

Jim didn't tell her he knew they weren't. He didn't say that. Instead he said, "I'm sure they will be."

She gave him a smile and nestled against his side. Together they sat, watching the stars. "It's so weird to think that we're so close to our power source."

Jim blinked. "What?"

She glanced up at him. There was that look again. "Jim, the Sea of Monsters is the modern day home of the Isle of Avalon. The birthplace of our—" she paused, nose wrinkling.

"Our gods?" He asked, smile teasing.

"Ugh, no." She shook her head, obvious distaste of calling the gods "theirs", obvious. "Our pantheon, then. Carter's folks."

Jim snorted. "I doubt he thinks of them as his "folks"."

She smiled again. "Yeah, probably not, but I digress. It's where they came from, ergo, it's their power source. Further ergo, it's ours."

Jim paused, taking that in. Douxie had told him, once upon a time, that nearly everything magical that they'd ever dealt with and faced were all descended from the Isle, whether the gods themselves, or created by said gods who'd come to the mortal world.

"Harley thinks a lot of the gods have retreated back to the Isle." Claire said. "That's why so many of the half-bloods are dying or being hunted. And..." she sighed. "Look, you know I love Percy, but his folks are becoming the big honchos of the godly realm and that's less than great for us." She kissed his cheek. "It's why we need you."

Jim gave her a smile, though his anxiety was sky-rocketing. Being even marginally put in a sentence to almost compare him to the son of fucking Poseidon was enough to make him want to disappear. And, yeah, Percy was a great guy and definitely not as dick-ish as his father. But Percy wasn't really the kind of person Jim had to care about. Percy wasn't his.None of the Greek half-bloods were, no matter how fun they were.

Jim had a duty. A mission. A purpose. And a lot of people he loved that needed him. He was the Trollhunter. He answered every call. And now he was more. He had to be more. For the people who were his.

"Yeah, Percy is pretty great." Jim said. "But I think you're better."

Claire laughed. "Oh please, I'm—"