The Next Great Prophecy

PERCY XV

When Percy woke up, Jason was gone. He sat up, looking in every direction, trying to find a sign of his friend. What he found made him beyond suspicious.

            The door was open. He could see to the stairs, and nothing was stopping him from making a run for it. Trying not to overthink it, he started to stand.

            The second his body left the bed, he felt like he would pass out. He reached for his pocket, surprised and thankful to find Riptide right where it belonged. He uncapped it and put the point to the floor, giving himself something stable to lean on. He walked toward the door.

            He had made it to the base of the stairs before he had to take a break. As dangerous as it was, he sat down. He tried to decide what to do next.

            The obvious first step would be to find Jason. Then they just had to get out of here. But where would Jason be?

            Once again, Percy stood, fighting off his dizziness. He began his slow climb up the stairs. When he finally reached the top, he thought he might pass out. Or puke. Probably both.

            But he kept walking. He made it to the throne room, where he could still see stains from his own blood in the center of the floor. Not too far away from there, he saw Jason, lying on the ground.

            Forgetting his pain, Percy rushed to his friend. He found him breathing, thankfully. He had a bruise and cuts on his temple. He had, once again, been knocked out.

            Percy shook the younger hero’s shoulder, trying to wake him. Jason started to wake up, groaning as he started to sit up. Percy turned to see if anyone else was in the room, and realized his luck had run out.

            “Hello, Sea Spawn. Glad you could join us. Just let me finish with Jason, and I promise you will get your turn.” Poryphiron glared at the demigods, but Percy was tired of this.

            “Fat chance, ugly.” With that, despite his injuries, his exhaustion, his cold, and his fear, he started brewing a hurricane.