Cursed- A Percy Jackson Fan fiction

Chapter: 13

 Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rick Riordan does.

"So ... what?"

She nodded at the circuitry. "So can I help? How is it coming on?"

"Oh, uh, I'm good here. I guess. If I can wire this thing up to the boat, I should be able to navigate back to the world."

"Now all you need is a boat."

Leo tried to read her expression. He wasn't sure if she was annoyed that he was still here or wistful that she wasn't leaving too. Then he looked at all the supplies she'd stacked up – easily enough for two people for several days.

"What Gaia said..." He hesitated. "About you getting off this island... Would you want to try it?"

She scowled. "What do you mean?"

"Well ... I'm not saying it would be fun having you along, always complaining and glaring at me and stuff. But I suppose I could stand it, if you wanted to try."

Her expression softened just a little.

"How noble," she muttered. "But no, Leonidas. If I tried to come with you, your tiny chance of escape would be no chance at all. The gods have placed ancient magic on this island to keep me here. A hero can leave. I cannot. The most important thing is getting you free so you can stop Gaia." She added the last part quickly, "Not that I care what happens to you. But the world's fate is at stake."

"Why would you care about that?" he asked. "I mean, after being away from the world for so long?"

She arched her eyebrows, as if surprised that he'd asked a sensible question. "I suppose I don't like being told what to do – by Gaia or anyone else. As much as I hate the gods sometimes, over the past three millennia I've come to see that they're better than the Titans. They're definitely better than the giants. At least the gods kept in touch. Hermes has always been kind to me. And your father, Hephaestus, has often visited. He is a good person."

Leo wasn't sure what to make of her faraway tone. She almost sounded like she was pondering his worth, not his dad's.

She reached out and closed his mouth. He hadn't realized it was hanging open.

"Now," Calypso said, "how can I help?"

"Oh." He stared down at his project, but when he spoke he blurted out an idea that had been forming ever since Calypso had made his new clothes. "You know that flameproof cloth? You think you could make me a little bag of that fabric?"

He described the dimensions. Calypso waved her hand impatiently. "That will only take minutes. Will it help on your quest?"

"Yeah. It might save a life. And, um, could you chip off a little piece of crystal from your cave? I don't need much."

She frowned. "That's an odd request."

"Humour me."

"All right. Consider it done. I'll make the fireproof pouch tonight at the loom, when I've cleaned up. But what can I do now, while my hands are dirty?"

She held up her calloused, grimy fingers. Leo couldn't help thinking there was nothing hotter than a girl who didn't mind getting her hands dirty. But of course that was just a general comment. Didn't apply to Calypso. Obviously.

"Well," he said, "you could twist some more bronze coils. But that's kind of specialized –"

She pushed in next to him on the bench and began to work, her hands braiding the bronze wiring faster than he could have.