Down in Flames - Rewritten Entirely

Chapter 5

Annabeth couldn't breathe. Smoke curled around her lungs that were already exhausted from crying, but she couldn't stop. The flames in front of her crackled maliciously and her vision swam with tears. No matter how hard she squinted and tried to make out the familiar shape of the bakery, she couldn't. Her head pounded and although nothing was touching her, she felt as if someone was sitting on her chest. Time had stopped when the ceiling collapsed and Annabeth wasn't sure she wanted it to start up again.

Suddenly, her chest was too tight and she couldn't see the bakery anymore. She knew it was in front of her-she could hear the sound of it burning-but she couldn't see straight. Every breath came out in a gasp and in a desperate attempt to breathe, she clawed at her chest. Why couldn't she breathe? How did one breathe? She knew how to breathe, but her lungs weren't cooperating and her head was beginning to feel light. What was happening?

Staggering backwards, Annabeth knocked into a soldier behind her and spun around. Her head was still pounding and her lungs screamed at her to breathe, but the sight of the soldier in front of her seemed to reset everything.

"Are you alright?"

His eyes were green. It was the only thing she could seem to focus on and although she was certain she'd never met an Atlantian soldier, she knew she'd seen this man before.

"Are you breathing? Are you alright?" he repeated, looking at her with concern.

She swayed and as he reached out a hand to steady her, Annabeth was shocked back into reality. She inhaled sharply and smoke filled her lungs, making her cough violently.

"Whoa, hey." The soldier caught her as she tipped forward and although she knew he was part of the troops destroying her city, she grabbed onto him tightly. "Let's move away from the fire."

She coughed and shook while he pulled her away from the bakery. Somehow, they found a corner far enough away from the smoke and flames that Annabeth could finally breathe again and as her coughing died down, she let go of the soldier.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely. She coughed again and glanced in the direction of the bakery, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her robe.

"Are you alright? Is your family okay?" the soldier asked. When she looked up, she was met once again by the look of concern on his face. "How can I help?"

Confused, Annabeth said, "You're attacking us."

The soldier sighed and glanced down the street where homes continued to burn.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he told her. "I'm sorry."

He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. For the second time, she was struck by the feeling that she knew him. He was familiar somehow, yet she couldn't imagine a time they could have met. The war was reaching its tenth year. She hadn't seen a friendly Atlantian face since then and even now, she only had vague memories of a childhood friend with his same green eyes and dark hair.

"Is your family alright?" he asked. Annabeth blinked and tears sprung into her eyes.

"My father-" She choked on her words, but the soldier seemed to understand.

"I'm truly sorry," he murmured.

He waited with her until she could stand without swaying and breathe without difficulty. Part of her wondered why he wasn't with the rest of his troops, throwing torches into their homes and taunting them all. The other part of her though-the part that recognised his face-didn't want him to leave.

* * * * *

Once Percy was sure the girl could stand on her own, he knew he had to leave. Already, Octavian had made it to the port and he was sure he'd be heading back to camp soon. He shouldn't have stopped his hunt for the general, but there was no way he would have left the girl on her own. She hadn't been able to support herself when he'd found her. How was he to be certain she'd be alright if he left?

Perhaps waiting for her to recover had been foolish, but dragging himself away from her side hadn't even crossed his mind. Even now, he wasn't sure he could leave her behind to deal with the aftermath of their attack. While she hadn't said much about her family, he got the feeling they hadn't made it out alive.

"Can you walk?" he asked. She wasn't shaking and she was standing on her own, but he wanted to be sure.

"I can make it on my own, yes," she assured him. Turning to face him, she held out her wrists but didn't look up at him.

"What are you doing?" Percy asked, staring down at her outstretched hands in confusion. With equal confusion, she looked up at him.

"Aren't you going to take me as a prisoner?" she asked. Her eyebrows pinched together and Percy mimicked her.

Shaking his head, Percy said, "No. No, that was never the plan. Atlantis doesn't take prisoners."

"They have before."

Percy blinked in surprise. His father had never mentioned anything about taking prisoners. In fact, he'd never heard the war council say anything about them. As far as Percy could recall, Atlantis had never taken prisoners during the war and he certainly didn't intend to start doing so now.

"Atlantis has never taken prisoners," Percy said slowly. "It's against our laws."

"I don't know how much you know about your laws," the girl said bitterly, "but your men have taken prisoners in almost every raid since the beginning of this war."

He had no reason to believe her. Rather, he had every reason to distrust her. She was an Athenian and his troops had just destroyed her city. There was a chance that she was trying to trick him; trying to get him in trouble with the war council and undermine his authority. However, Percy had the feeling this wasn't the case.

"Where do they take these prisoners?" Percy asked. They had never received prisoners of war at the palace, so the prisoners hadn't been taken to their capital city.

Very quietly, the girl answered.

"They never leave the camp."