Percabeth: Saving Percy Part 1

Percabeth: Saving Percy

Part 1

It's a hard thing to describe, memory. It's everything that's happened, and it's the one sure fire way to connect body to soul.

I stood there, registering the blank stare on his face. The dull flatness in his eyes.

I'd risked everything to be here. To rescue the one person I had trusted with my hands, my lips, my thoughts… my everything. And yet I stood here, while a full-out battle of the Romans versus the Greeks raged behind me, to have the one sword I had never had to fear pointed straight at my chest, my knife knocked to the ground behind me.

Damn compassion.

Damn trusting someone for once.

I ran the back of my hand along my cheek, attempting to discourage the blood flowing freely from the gash some Roman camper had given me.

At my movement, this blank-eyed boy turned on high alert. He flicked his sword upward. "Keep your hands above your head, where I can see them. Don't move, Greek scum."

Percy had no idea who I was.


I didn't bother to resist as Percy took me as a prisoner of war. He led me, with my hands up, with his sword pointed at my back, to some sort of rock formation at the edge of the island, near the ocean.

Of course he would keep his power source in close proximity.

The likeness to Camp Half Blood caused tears to threaten my eyes. But I couldn't trust this stranger with my sadness, my memories.

What had they done with my boyfriend? The seaweed brain who had drooled in his sleep after fighting the Minotaur? The kelp face who had risked it all and become one of the greatest heroes Olympus had ever known, saving the world in the process? The sincere, honest, brave, amazing boy I had fallen head over heels in love with?

Oh right. That particular gem was in the process of tying my hands behind a palm tree, effectively binding me to its thin but sturdy trunk.

When he was done, he checked the tightness of the rope bindings and straightened, crossing his arms in front of his chest and coldly staring into my eyes.

It was too hard to look at him. The familiarity in his features was breaking my heart. The way his almost-black hair fell messily around his face, almost but not quite getting in his eyes. His eyes, so completely green, were calculating, sizing me up of all things. I couldn't look into those eyes. Instead, I focused on the hard line of his mouth, the tight lean muscles that seemed permanently flexed in his crossed arms.

Gods, why hadn't I listened to my mother? She had always warned me that love can only break the heart.

"Damn it," I whispered, tears sabotaging my vocal chords and making me sound weak. I cleared my throat angrily.

"I was sent here on a reconnaissance mission. That's it. Camp Half Blood is not interested in making enemies with your camp."

His camp. That was a lie, if I've ever told one.

He studied me. His eyes were not warm, not kind, and the furthest from compassionate as they could be. I felt my fists clench behind me. To hell with a peaceful mission! I was so angry I could have cut him up like any Laistrygonian giant dumb enough to cross my path. I had to keep reminding myself that I was here to rescue him, and that somewhere in this cold new exterior still resided the boy I loved.

Of course, it was a little hard to remind myself to rescue someone who had me all tied up.

And, as is the style of everything that happens in my life, the drama was yet to begin.

Loud rap music blared all of a sudden, filling my head with a thumping beat that was killing my concentration. Before I could turn to tell whichever dumb Roman who was involved to turn it down a few notches, a blindfold was slipped over my eyes and tightened.

"Give her the chloroform right away you imbecile!"

"Oh right… sorry boss," apologized a second voice.

"And the boy! We have permission to hurt him if he struggles."

I could hear Percy attempting to wrestle off whatever the monsters were who were restraining him.

"Don't hurt him!" I heard myself scream. Despite the monster he had turned into, I still heard the anguish and concern I felt for Percy in my voice.

"The chloroform, dimwit!"

The last thing I heard before they knocked me out was the sound of an arrow being shot and bouncing off of something hard, and the sound of my own screams.



To be continued…