xx. friends in high places

*    *    *

WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE SHIP, THEY'RE SILENT. Thea grips the railing and stares at the horizon until the sun burns her eyes, hoping that it will burn a hole straight through her head and she will never have to deal with what happened. Because that is easier. She won't have to think about how much she aches for that fantasy world, how much she aches just to see her mother again.

That's the worst part, because the siren's song had been everything she wants and painfully accurate. Her mother looked like how she imagines, four years older, yet still the fierce woman she had always been. And she had said she made Thea's favorite even though she herself hated kimchi—something she only did when Thea was upset—and gods is she upset. She is so upset she could throw herself into the ocean and let it drag her into the depths. Maybe whatever was in her dream days before would grab her and let her die.

Nope. She isn't doing that. She has a job to do, she has to find the Fleece, and she isn't going to make an even bigger fool of herself in front of Percy and Annabeth. They don't need to see her sob into their arms, it's weak and stupid.

But it felt nice. Really, really nice.

After nearly ten minutes of her worries eating her alive, she makes her way over to Percy, who is sitting by Annabeth, neither of them talking.

"I just—I have one thing to ask," she says as she takes a deep breath to steady herself. "Did you see it?"

Percy's shoulders droop. "Yeah. I grabbed you and I saw it—I didn't mean to, it just happened."

"Shit," she curses, tugging at one of her braids until it hurts. "I'm—just. Dammit."

She all but flops down onto the deck, wrists resting on her knees, her eyes trained on the worn wood. She can't make herself meet his eyes.

"It's fine," he says. "When my mom was—you know—I had a hard time too, I would've saw her too. But, uh, that's different . . ."

He is terrible at comforting, but at least he's trying.

"I just. It's so hard. She was all I had left. I mean, I have Charlie, y'know? But that's it. There's his family but I've barely met them, they're just . . . blood-related. My mom was all I had. I didn't have any other parent, I didn't have friends aside from Charlie, but that was okay with me. I was happy just learning about the gods and monsters and all of that with my mom but—but that was it. I'd never been without her, not for too long. I've never . . . I didn't know what to do. It's stupid, cause I was, like, thirteen, but—"

"It's not stupid," Annabeth says, her throat scratchy from screaming. "I know—I know I said last year I'd let my dad die, but I was just angry. Now if something happened . . . I can't imagine what I'd do without him. I'd be lost."

And that is what it is. Thea feels lost. Sure, she's found a place, but would she ever really feel the same? She can't, not without her mom. The world needs Andraya Vasquez, Thea's world doesn't spin the same without her.

"I just miss her so much," Thea whispers, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes. "I don't even know where she is. Is she in the Fields? Eternal Punishment? One of the others?"

She can see her mother being taken to Valhalla, she died an honorable death. And Thea doesn't know much about the Norse world, but she's sure it wouldn't break any rules. Most likely.

"I just—it's so hard not knowing. My mom, she did so much—she spent her life in service to the gods, she was even friends to some of them, and she was—she was more than that to some of them. I just. I wish I knew if maybe they did it or didn't."

"Did what?"

At Percy's question, she blinks at him. "...Percy, the gods aren't our friends. You know that right?"

He shifts. "I mean, kinda, but Hermes was nice, and—"

"Hermes was nice, and he's also killed people for less than breathing in his direction," she says, barely even glancing at the sky to see if she's being struck down. She's too focused on the task at hand, which, in her mind, seems something close to radicalizing Percy Jackson. "They don't care, Percy. Seriously. Think about it. All of them. Have they ever been faithful? For real? Not killed their demigod or mortal lovers? Made sure their kids were okay? I mean—think about it. They have all these kids, all these lovers, and they don't even have the decency to—to pay their version of child support. A little love and affection wouldn't kill them."

"Thea," Annabeth says, "you can't just—"

"I'm pretty sure they sent my mom to hell, so." She glances up at the sky, an angry look in her eyes. "I'm grateful to the gods. I am, don't get me wrong. But . . . we're just chess pieces to them. We're pawns. And—and I don't want to be a pawn."

"Well," Percy says, blinking. "That's, uh, that's just. A lot."

"I know," Thea says. "I just—I want you guys to be safe, okay? I know that was harsh, but I don't want to watch you guys die too. I can't—I can't lose you two. You're . . . you're too important for that."

Annabeth makes a noise that sounds strangely like sniffling. "Who would've thought Big Bad Thea cared?"

"Ha-ha," she says, kicking the girl's ankle. "You're never getting that hug now, I take back hug privileges."

"Is that so?" Annabeth says, her eyes narrowed with an edge to her tone. "Brave words, Thea."

Her eyes widen. "Wait, no, my bones are still tired—"

And then Annabeth is tackling her, both of them a battle of limbs, rolling over each other on the deck, elbowing and kicking, and even the occasional (light) hair-pulling.

"Give up!" Annabeth says, covering her mouth with her hand.

Thea licks her hand, making the girl let out a 'gross!' as Thea smiles victoriously. "Ha! Say uncle, say it!"

"Never!"

She licks her elbow and it makes Annabeth shriek, kneeing her in the stomach. "Grosssss! You're the worst, Thea! Who licks people?!"

"People who like to win, obviously!"

"Guys!" Percy whines. "You're gonna break something!"

"This ship is, like, four hundred years old!" Thea says, struggling against Annabeth's grip. "I'm sure it's fine!"

Annabeth manages to pin her arms down and she squeezes Thea tightly and jumps away before she can attack again. "I won! Loser!"

Thea gets to her feet and sticks her tongue out playfully. "Come closer, lemme lick you."

"Ew, Thea, gross!"

"I could bite you, but you say that's mean."

"Because who bites while wrestling?"

"Someone who doesn't like to lose, duh."

It is . . . nice. A little part of her knows that Annabeth is doing it to make herself and Thea feel better, to let off steam and be competitive, and that's nice. She likes knowing that she has a friend that cares about her enough to do that.

She knows Percy would do the same. After all, he had made sure she didn't fall into the siren's trap, even after she bit him. And she bit him hard.

Thea still feels bad about that. In her defense, she was trying to get to the perfect world, but she also bit him and pulled his hair so hard she's sure she had to have pulled some out. Which is very bad, but thankfully he seems to understand, and he doesn't mention it.

Well, if Percy had bitten her under the influence of sirens, she wouldn't have minded, either.

"Guys," Annabeth says, her voice deathly calm, "guys, look."

When Thea turns her head, she sees an island looming ahead and somehow, deep in her gut, she knows it is Polyphemus' island. The place that will determine if Thea's home will make it past summer.

*    *    *

AFTER SURVEYING THE island more, they realize it will be impossible to sneak past the sheep. Annabeth insists she can do it if she is invisible, but after nearly two minutes of Percy and Thea saying that no, she could not, they decide they will have to find another way to get to the Fleece.

"Maybe I can try a spell?" Thea suggests. "There's one that turns farm animals into serpents, or one where the ground will lose density and suck anything in, or I can try a flying spell and try to make it to the tree—"

"You can't," Annabeth states. "We're all—we're all tired, we've been through a lot, and your magic's been weak since Beckendorf—"

"Since Beckendorf what?" Thea snaps. She grabs Annabeth by the shoulders, gripping into the fabric of her t-shirt. "Don't tell me about what happened to Charlie! It didn't do anything to me, you have no idea what—"

Percy grips Thea's shoulder tight enough that his fingers dig into her collarbone, sending dashes of pain across her body. "Thea, stop. I know you lost your brother, I lost—I lost mine too. But there's no point in fighting each other, right?"

She looks between Percy's pleading face and Annabeth's panicked one, and with a heaving breath, she pulls away from them. "He wasn't—isn't my brother. Not really."

"He is," Percy says, not scared of what her reaction will be, because he believes it. "You swam into the freaking Sea of Monsters for him."

"Gods, if he knew that, he'd be furious." She takes a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves. "I just—sorry, I guess, whatever. There's been too many feelings this quest, let's just get this over with."

"Oh my gods, look!" Annabeth gasps, furiously shaking her friends' arms until they turn. And there, down on the beach just below the sheep's meadow, is a lifeboat. One that is undoubtedly from the CSS Birmingham.

*    *    *

THEY MOOR QUEEN Anne's Revenge at the backside of the island where the cliffs rise two hundred feet into the air. It will be a difficult climb, but only slightly more difficult than the lava wall at Camp Half-Blood.

When they pull the rowboat up to the cliff, Annabeth goes first, since she is the better climber, and then Thea, then Percy. And while that is technically true, Thea has much more experience climbing cliffs than Percy, she also hasn't done much rock climbing since she lost the tips of her fingers. It's much harder than she thought it'd be, because with most things, like swords or knives or anything, she can grip it hard enough. But a steep handhold with barely an inch of space? It's hard to grip it hard enough to haul herself up another foot or two.

Finally, after several mishaps and her nearly popping her left shoulder out of place, she flops up onto the grassy clifftop. Sweat is pouring off of her, her muscles are on fire, and her fingers are scratched to hell and back.

She struggles to breathe in deep enough and sits up, ripping part of her sleeve off and using it to tie up her hair, tight enough that she is mostly sure the braids won't pull free fully. The shirt isn't hers, just like the entire outfit isn't, it's one she had found below decks on the ship. It makes her look like a pirate, and she thinks she makes a sexy ass pirate.

That idea is quickly ruined once she realizes she is lying in the grass, dead-tired, half-tangled in her friends as they all desperately try to catch their breath.

A deep bellow echoes around them, so deep it shakes Thea's ribcage. She tries to kick herself free from where her legs are tangled, but Annabeth's hands are over her and Percy's mouths. Thea nearly licks it before Annabeth points behind them.

The ledge they are on is much narrower than she first thought. Less than two feet away from them, it drops off, and the voice is coming from in there.

"You're a feisty one!" the voice bellows.

"Challenge me!" Clarisse. It has to be. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

The monster roars with laughter.

Annabeth takes her hands away and they creep forward. They're right above the entrance to the Cyclops' cave. Below is Polyphemus, Grover in a wedding dress, which is still baffling. Clarisse is tied up, above a pot of boiling water and—Charlie. Thea can barely see his face, it's a mess of dark bruises and swelled eyes, but it is him, she knows it, even in the dimly lit cave. Charlie's alive, he's alive.

Tyson isn't there, but she forces herself not to dwell on that, not when they are lucky enough to find Clarisse and Charlie, both alive. Her breath is coming out in spurts and she has to stop herself from crying right then and there from relief.

She thought she had lost everyone, and she hadn't lost Percy and Annabeth and they had been her rock but it's Charlie, Charlie will always be her solace, the person that she dares anyone to rip away from her. She lurches forward, lips already parting to cast a spell, but Annabeth grabs her wrist.

"Don't," she whispers, her grip tight.

"It's Charlie, I can't just—"

"You can't do magic and you don't have a weapon," Annabeth states, each fact driving itself into Thea's chest like a knife. "We need to have a plan."

She rips her wrist out of the girl's grip. "Fuck you."

Annabeth is right, but it isn't what Thea wants to hear, and she isn't good with emotions. She's good at fighting and she's good at yelling, but she isn't good at crying.

Fuck. Why does everything always go wrong? Tartarus, everything with her father (and what wasn't happening with whoever he was), losing Charlie, the things Circe had said—Thea's life is one thing after another, a neverending circle of chaos that she has grown too accustomed to.

She feels useless. Percy has a destiny, Annabeth is incredibly smart and quick-thinking, and what does she have? Light-level magic? A long-gone sword? An asshole god of a dad that doesn't care about her at all?

Nope. She isn't going to think about her father, not when she has more important things at hand. Besides, he is more of a . . . DNA donor than anything, her mother was her parent, not him. They just happen to share DNA.

"Hmm," Polyphemus hums. "Eat loudmouth girl and bruised boy now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

Grover nearly trips over his bridal train when the cyclops turns to him. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did you say bride?" Clarisse demands. "Who—Grover?"

Annabeth stiffens and begins to mutter. "Shut up. She has to shut up."

Polyphemus glowers. "What 'Grover'?"

Charlie opens his swollen right eye, just barely, and groans. "Clarisse, don't."

Thea's chest aches. He sounds terrible and she can't do anything.

"The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water!" Grover yelps. "Pull her down, dear!"

Clarisse seems to get the hint and Charlie passes out once again.

"Girl will stay there," Polyphemus states gruffly. "We will eat the hurt one now."

Annabeth slaps a hand over Thea's mouth to stop her from making a sound and she nearly bites her.

"Wait!" Grover says, nearly shrieking. "D-Dear, shouldn't we wait until the feast?"

"No, he will be dead by then. No rotten meat, bad for the heart."

"But d-dear, what about my recipe? Have you ever had human mango chutney?"

"Mango . . . chutney?" he wonders aloud, pausing. "Mangos?"

"Yes, they're good! Go look for them down in the woods, and we'll save him for the wedding feast!"

Polyphemus grunts. "Yes, my bride is right. He'll taste better with mangos."

"I'll kill you!" Clarisse screeches as Polyphemus leaves the cave. "I'll shove your arms down your throat and make you eat them!"

But it's no use. Polyphemus is gone, and now the cave has a six-ton rock at the entrance.

*    *    *

IT IS NO use. It feels like hours, and the rock hasn't moved. They try yelling into the cracks, shoving things through them, but they can't seem to hear them. They try stabbing at the rock with frustration, but it doesn't work, either. It doesn't matter if they managed to kill Polyphemus, the rock will still be there, and they'll die inside that cave.

Thea sits beside her friends, stretched out on the grass, her feet in Percy's lap and her head in Annabeth's. She's exhausted, she can't force herself to do anything else. Her body needs rest, an eternity of rest, but she doesn't have that luxury. Her home will be gone if they can't fix everything.

She isn't sure if her home is Camp Half-Blood, Charlie, or Annabeth and Percy.

At some point, Thea falls asleep, and wakes up more tired than before when Annabeth shakes her awake. "Come on," she says. "We have a plan."

"A good one?" Thea mumbles tiredly.

"I'm going to be invisible, and you two are going to hang onto the sheep underneath them so when Polyphemus lets them into the cave you'll go in too."

Thea rubs her eyes and picks small pieces of grass out of her hair and off her shirt as she does so. "That's an awful idea. Where are the sheep?"

"Down in that valley."

She yawns and gets to her feet. "Fine, let's do this. It can't get any worse than this."

It does. It gets much worse. Crawling under the sheep is like crawling under a car, which isn't terrible, but their underside is muddy and smells worse than a rabid stray cat. Her hands are dirty from the mud-coated wool that she's fisted her hands into, and her boots are covered in mud from where they rest against the sheep's thigh bones. It's all she can do not to waterboard herself on the sheep's muddy wool.

At Polyphemus' yell, the sheep start flocking forward and Thea grips the wool so tight she wonders how the sheep don't notice.

"This is it!" Annabeth whispers. "Don't worry. I'll be close by."

The plan is stupid, so stupid that it's genius. If Thea manages to survive it, she'll tell Annabeth just how smart she is.

Thea shuts her eyes tightly as her sheep trots forward into the cave. She isn't sure if the next part of the plan is to spontaneously jump Polyphemus, but whatever it is, she's ready.

"Hello, ugly!"

No she isn't. She shoots a look over to Percy, who is on the sheep beside her, and he turns his head. Of course. The two planned for Annabeth to be the distraction but didn't tell Thea because they know she won't go along with it unless she's with her.

"Who said that?" Polyphemus rumbles.

"Nobody!"

As angry as she is, Thea can't deny that Annabeth is a genius for using Nobody against him.

"Nobody!" he roars. "I remember you!"

"You're too stupid to remember anybody," she taunts. "Much less Nobody."

Thea watches in horror as a boulder smashes to a million pieces from where her voice had come from. Annabeth is smart, she had to be moving by the time she taunted him, she had to—

"You haven't learned to throw any better, either!"

"Come here! Let me kill you, Nobody!"

"You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf," she taunts. "Come find me!"

Polyphemus barrels down the hill toward her voice. Thea prays that Annabeth will be okay.

She scrambles out from under the sheep, several steps behind Percy as they run through the corridors of the cave. At some point, she stops looking in the rooms and instead follows Percy, trusting he'll find the way. And he does.

"Percy? Thea? You're supposed to be blown up!" Clarisse shakes back and forth, jostling Charlie, who's tied to her. "Beckendorf, wake up, your dumbass cousin's here!"

He doesn't stir.

"Perrrrrrrcy! Thea!" Grover bleats. He tackles the two of them in a hug. "You heard me! You came!"

"Yeah, buddy," Percy says. "Of course I came."

"Where's Annabeth?"

"Outside. But there's no time to talk. Clarisse, hold still."

Thea catches Charlie as he slumps over, free from the ropes. "Charlie, Charles, can you hear me? It's Thea, we found you, we're gonna get you out of here—"

His swollen eyes twitch, almost like he's trying to open them, but they're swelled shut. "Thea? How—how are you here? You j-jumped into the waves, you idiot, I saw you drown—"

"Annabeth pulled me into a life raft," she explains, hugging him so tightly that he groans. She winces, but she doesn't let go. "I knew you were alive, you're too stubborn to let a little monster kill you. What happened to your face, who did this? Was it Polyphemus? Are you o—"

An explosion sounds through the cave, followed by a piercing scream.

Thea's heart drops.

Annabeth.