―iv. naomi plays pinochle with a god and a horse-man

13.5K 661 293
                                    

OKAY, TO BE COMPLETELY FAIR: Skia didn't actually dive into the wall. Really, Naomi wasn't sure what the beast did. She'd only seen half of the first Harry Potter movie, but it seemed a little like Skia was trying to get to Platform 9 ¾—except Naomi was fairly sure Platform 9 ¾ wasn't in the middle of a dark forest, and the people who ended up there didn't get violently ill right after.

She barely managed to scramble off of Skia's back before she was retching. Her head was spinning and she wasn't sure if the pain in her still-broken arm or disorientation from going from an alley to a forest in a single second was more to blame for her dizziness.

She heard Skia whimper behind her, nudging her uninjured arm with her giant snout. Naomi tried to lift her head to show the beast that she was okay (which she was definitely not), but that simple action zapped her of almost all of her strength.

Black spots danced across her vision like they were trying to perform a complicated waltz. Her empty stomach turned, and she listed to the side. She tried to steady herself with a hand on the ground, but she'd forgotten about her broken arm, and a startled cry escaped her lips as she accidentally applied pressure.

She collapsed, exhausted by the pain and everything that had happened in the last... god, it couldn't have been any longer than twenty minutes. Was twenty minutes all it took to turn her entire world upside down?

Skia barked, the sound echoing in the dark forest around them. Through the haze her mind had become, Naomi felt the beast nudge her cheek almost affectionately.

A moment later, Naomi heard voices in the distance. Skia barked again, as if calling them forward. She nudged Naomi's face one last time, and then she was gone, taking her comfort and her warmth with her.

The black spots from before were getting bigger. It took too much effort to keep her eyes open, but she lingered just on the edge of unconsciousness, just long enough to hear a pretty voice shout, "Katie! Help me get her to the infirmary!"

Naomi came to in fleeting moments, between dreams of darkness and monstrous roars and one-eyed creatures with hands like vice grips. The first time her eyes fluttered open, she saw a tent-like ceiling over her, until the view was obscured by a blurry, vaguely familiar face.

"What do you think happened to her?" the pretty voice from before asked, but Naomi couldn't see the person speaking.

"I am not sure," answered a faintly familiar voice, matching the movement of lips on the vaguely familiar face. "Miss Murphy, can you hear me?"

Naomi couldn't even move her mouth to answer. The darkness snatched her back into its grasp.

At one point, through a haze of nightmares and sleep, she swore she heard another familiar voice. "I'm so sorry," it said, sounding like the speaker was fighting tears. "I keep failing."

At another, she heard the pretty voice ask, "Could it be her? Not Percy?"

"I don't know," came the first familiar voice. 

"Chiron... it's starting, isn't it?"

"Careful, Annabeth. We mustn't tempt the Fates."

When Naomi finally woke all the way, the first thing she noticed was that her arm didn't hurt. It took her a moment to understand why that was significant, the memories of the one-eyed man and the dark beast coming back to her in pieces.

An involuntary groan came as she opened her eyes, momentarily blinded by the light in the room. Naomi registered the sound of shuffling nearby, then a decidedly unfamiliar voice said, "Good. You're awake."

This Dark Night  ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹Where stories live. Discover now