End of the Line

#44 - His Fatal Flaw

Chapter 44 - His Fatal Flaw
published: Wednesday, 27 November 2019

"Oh my gods," Annabeth gasped as Festus dipped in altitude. They were honing in on Camp Half-Blood by the second, and soon she'd be home.

It was still early in the day, but it seemed like the war had been waging on for hours already.

From what she could see of Long Island, Tartarus' army has wreaked absolute havoc upon their ranks. Grass was scorched with obvious marks of grenades and fire, vines were scattered and trapping dead bodies — possibly the work of the satyrs.

And the dead bodies; Annabeth was terrified that she would recognise the blank stares of old friends. Hellhounds ravaged the area, picking out lone, injured survivors.

Annabeth wasn't sure how much longer the demigods could hold on.

She prayed that her friends had made it back alive, not only because she couldn't bear the thought of losing them, but also because Percy had both the scythe and the spell. Without him, everything would've been for nothing.

"We're touching down," Leo said with his jaw set in a grimace. She didn't blame his negativity; everything seemed so hopeless now that they had seen the true face of the war.

"Wait!" Annabeth gestured wildly to a group of saytrs and dryads being massacred by the monsters. "They need our help!"

Festus swooped down and landed on an invictus, the shell crunching horribly as the creature crumbled to dust.

Annabeth promptly slid off the metal dragon and leaped into the fight. She'd seen a familiar pair of horns that she couldn't ignore.

"Grover!" Annabeth yelled, sprinting rapidly to her friend.

Grover was playing frantically on his reed pipes, encouraging the ground to swallow some monsters, but his eyes brightened instantaneously at the sight of one of his best friends.

Annabeth leaped onto the harpy he was fighting and grappled with the monster. They tumbled through the air, Annabeth pummelling and slashing wherever she could with her dagger.

By the time she hit the ground rolling, the harpy was simply bronze dust. She struggled to her feet, Grover pulling her up.

Without a second thought, Annabeth flung herself at him, her arms squeezing him so tightly she thought she might break his ribs.

"I missed you," she groaned, burying her face in his shoulder. Grover had always been one of the most important people in her life, especially after Percy had disappeared.

He was a constant, someone she could rely on.

Not seeing him for two months had unknowingly taken its toll.

Grover staggered back with her full weight, patting her back awkwardly. Annabeth gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

"How's the fight been?"

Grover pulled a face. "Horrible. They've got all the children huddled in the infirmary, but it's already crammed with injured demigods. Will and the healers are trying their best, but the death toll's climbing by the minute."

Annabeth nodded vigorously. "We can stop them," she told him. "Well, Percy can."

Grover's mouth fell open. "P-Percy? Like, Percy — Percy Jackson? Our Percy?"

Annabeth knew he was holding back tears. "Yeah," she said, but her face fell. "I don't know if he made it back. Our ship exploded and..." She shook her head frustratedly.