Chapter Text
Standing on the veranda of the Hall of the Gods, Poseidon watched the final rays of the sun disappear to the west. He absently twisted his trident through his fingers as he looked over at Hermes, who looked up from his phone to grimace and shook his head. The Winter Solstice meeting should be starting now but Artemis had yet to appear and rather than take their places in the council room, everyone but Zeus seemed adamant on delaying the start of the meeting. As a result, the ten remaining gods were wandering the area around the palace rather than waiting in the chambers themselves.
He checked in on his son in California. Grover had just departed with the Ophiotaurus and should be in New York soon. The three remaining questers were headed to the home of Athena’s former lover, or non-lover in her case. Whatever. Annabeth’s father. Hopefully he would provide some assistance since the questers were pretty much completely out of supplies. He felt a little bad that Percy sacrificed the Nemean Lion skin for the Ophiotaurus’s transport, especially since he would have provided the transport anyway, but maybe it was better if his son was not associated with such a thing. It certainly didn’t do Hercules any favors and its presence would be one more thing for Zeus to be pissed about. The questers still had a little more than three hours to make it to the Garden of the Hesperides and enter the Mountain of Despair where they assumed Artemis was being held. The gods themselves could no longer see onto the mountain, something that would have been nice to know before all this happened. Poseidon last checked on Atlas following the return of the master bolt and helm but sometime in the last year and a half things had changed.
Thunder echoed around the palace, Zeus calling them to the meeting but no one moved inside. Apollo was pacing nervously, continually summoning and vanishing his bow. Aphrodite talked with Hephaestus softly as Ares looked on while Dionysus and Demeter were deep in conversation, probably discussing plants or something.
Another fifteen minutes passed before the thunder sounded again, this time slightly reverberating through the ground. A few of the younger gods grimaced and looked nervously towards the doors but Apollo glared murderously towards the palace. Athena moved at least to the antechamber but Poseidon continued to stare at the horizon, following the path of the Ophiotaurus. The creature could travel almost instantaneously through bodies of water but the satyr wasn’t the best guide and seemed to have difficulty keeping him on task. They were currently in the depths of Lake Tahoe where the Ophiotaurus was playing with a water serpent they found.
A third round of thunder got most of the gods to move into the council room though few moved to sit on their thrones. Poseidon stayed outside, happy for the fresh air. He was in a foul mood to begin with and nothing about this meeting would likely lift his spirits. Not only was his only mortal child heading to the Mountain of Despair, not only was Artemis missing, but his own realm was already suffering battles spurred on by the Titan of the Sea. Oh, and the creature whose existence could cause their downfall had been reborn. And it was likely that none of this would sway his hard headed younger brother to accept that their Father was returning. They needed Artemis to return with some more concrete news to have any chance of making progress. And he needed to keep his temper in check for the night, something he really did not feel like doing.
He sighed and fidgeted with his trident. Of course the return of their Father would come during one of Zeus’s more irrational phases. Like the tides, his brother’s temperament ebbed and flowed over the years and while it would still be a challenge to get him to act during his more reasonable periods, he would at least be willing to listen a bit then. But these days he was determined not to see sense despite growing evidence, acting on his emotional whims because it suited him. He was never a particularly good ruler but phases like this were the worst. Poseidon had wondered if their father was somehow influencing him but it seemed unlikely. Ares’s domain and the high emotions that came with it, along with direct contact with Castellan made him more susceptible to influence. Zeus didn’t have that. No, he figured it was more likely his brother just had too much spare time on his hands. Hera long ago took over the day to day administration of Olympus as Zeus didn’t like the mundanity of such things. No god ever petitioned Zeus for anything, always going to Hera if it wasn’t for the full council because at least she would listen to them while Zeus just complained about their complaining. With the oath in effect, he didn’t even have mortal affairs to distract him. Poseidon had no idea what he did with his time but there is a mortal proverb about idle hands being tools for the devil. It certainly seems to fit the situation they were in now.
They were far behind in preparations and there were more difficult questions to come. Chief among them was what to do with the Romans. He hated thinking about them more than most but still knew they had to be taken into consideration. Technically as the Mountain of Despair was in their territory, this should have been their quest but that would lead to questions of who Luke Castellan was and where he came from. So far they remained oblivious to any trouble and the rising Titan threat but that couldn’t last. The Greeks may have more grievances to exploit but the Romans had the numbers and if his Father was looking for half-bloods and those with divine blood, then it would be foolish to overlook the Romans. Olympus couldn’t afford to either. But how to bring them in while keeping the camps ignorant of each other was a problem he did not have the answer to.
He pushed down his frustration and switched his focus once again. The Ophiotaurus was now in Lake Havasu, which he guessed was in the right direction? It was a bit further east anyway.
“Poseidon! Hera! Get in here right now!” Zeus bellowed. The two siblings shared a look but headed in. Both still took their time to head to their thrones. The others were just getting seated.
“Sorry, brother. I was just tracking the Ophiotaurus. I was hoping he would be here by now.”
Athena sat straight up on her throne. “The Ophiotaurus has returned?”
“When did this happen?” Hera added exasperatedly.
Poseidon furrowed his brow as he settled into his throne. “I don’t know when he was reborn but it came to my attention shortly before I arrived. It sounded like he was following Percy and they came across him in San Francisco. The satyr is currently guiding him back to New York.” He vanished his trident and shrugged at his sister. Hera rubbed at her temple, muttering under her breath.
“If the Ophiotaurus has returned then that is a major threat,” Athena said, clearing thinking through all possible actions. “The Titans will want him to sacrifice.”
“Way to state the obvious,” Ares muttered.
“There is no Titan threat,” Zeus reiterated but even he looked uncomfortable. According to legend the Ophiotaurus was only reborn during times of great unrest. He hadn’t been seen since the Titanomachy. Even when the Giants rose the Ophiotaurus didn’t return. “Besides, it may not be him. It could be a different beast.”
“Yes, brother,” he told him dryly, “I can’t tell the difference between the creatures of my realm. That must be it.”
Zeus glared at him but Poseidon just stared back. “Fine,” he snapped, “but what does it want with your son?”
“Why would I know? You insist we have no contact with our children, so how am I to know what he is up to?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aphrodite grin viciously. She was one of the more outspoken gods against the laws on interference. Poseidon understood generally the need for some limits, but of course his brother was a very all or nothing type ruler, a set up that made only him happy. “In any case, the creature is currently with the satyr.” In Mexico, he suddenly realized. Laguna de Babicora. Well, that was still moving east. Ish.
“Do not lose them, Poseidon,” Hera warned. “We need that beast with us.” He raised an eyebrow and fixed his sister with a look that let her know he obviously already knew that.
Zeus grumbled under his breath before pounding his master bolt against the armrest of his throne. “Let’s get started,” he began, only to be immediately interrupted by Apollo.
“We shouldn’t start without Artemis.”
“It’s not my fault she is not here,” Zeus told his son. “She will be dealt with later.
“It’s not her fault either,” Demeter said idly. “Kidnapping isn’t exactly voluntary, as some people should know,” glaring at the hearth where Hades normally sat during Winter Solstice, only to realize he wasn’t here.
“We have no reason to believe she was kidnapped.”
“‘Five shall go west to the goddess in chains’,” Apollo immediately recited. “That is part of the prophecy for the current quest and the question asked was how to save Artemis. I don’t think that leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”
As Apollo and Zeus snipped back and forth, Poseidon checked in again with the quest. They somehow got a car and were making their way to Mount Tam. They had a little over two hours until sundown on the West Coast but traffic was at a standstill. He sent a telepathic message to Hermes for some assistance. The slight pause in his typing and a small nod were the only indications that he heard him but sure enough, traffic did start moving a bit more. Elsewhere, the Ophiotaurus was currently doing flips in Lake Tawakoni in Texas, much to Grover’s displeasure.
“Enough!” Zeus yelled. “We will get started.”
“Chiron’s here,” Hephaestus suddenly announced, not taking his focus off the contraption he was working on in his hands.
“Oh!” Aphrodite exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. “We should greet the children before getting started.” Several other gods agreed, and Poseidon smothered a smile at his brother’s growing frustration at the meeting not going the way he planned.
It took forty five minutes to wrangle the children together and another fifteen to get them lined up and ready for introductions. Upon entering the council room, Chiron’s eyes immediately went to Artemis’s empty throne and he seemed to understand the need to stall. He gave an awkward speech about the importance of the gods which earned a glare from Zeus and rapt attention from everyone else. Hermes even placed his phone on silent and put it away. When he ran out of things to say, he asked the gods to formally introduce themselves as they had several first-time visitors among the campers that year. Zeus balked but Hera and Aphrodite enthusiastically agreed with the proposal.
By the time the campers started to introduce themselves, it was ten minutes until sundown in San Francisco and the questers had just arrived at the mountain. The Princess Andromeda was also getting ready to dock along the shore. The Ophiotaurus had backtracked a bit and was back in Mexico, still far away from the Titan base. With minutes left, the three remaining questers disappeared into the Garden of the Hesperides and out of the sight of Olympus. Apollo slumped back into his throne but still smiled at his kids. Now they just had to wait.
Poseidon looked over the half-bloods in the room. He rarely paid much attention to them year after year as he didn’t have any children among their number but he still recognized a few faces. Dio’s twins had been a mainstay for several years now, and Heph’s boy and Dite’s girl were not new. The older one of Apollo’s kids looked familiar as well. But he was pretty sure all the others were new. He couldn’t help but wonder why that was; were the year-round campers that came in previous years now aligned with his Father? Were any of the children here planning to join him?
He pushed those thoughts aside, or at least tried to. As a general rule he left paranoid thinking to his brothers. He had better ways of occupying his time than to look for threats at every turn. And it hurt to think of children being used in such a way.
Suddenly he tensed as the part of his consciousness tracking the Ophiotaurus started to lose sight of the creature. The pair had moved back to the US and farther east to the Toledo Bend Reservoir but now the satyr was frantically urging the beast to stay with him rather than leave. For his part the Ophiotaurus was mooing excitedly for his ‘protector’, trying to break the satyr’s grip and phasing in and out. Grover clung to the beast’s neck and started desperately telling someone not to think about him. With alarm he realized someone was trying to summon the Ophiotaurus. He was just about to flash to the site when the Ophiotaurus stopped phasing and mooed his disappointment at Grover. The satyr gave a slightly hysterical laugh and promised the creature he could visit with Percy later.
He settled back into his throne, still keeping a close eye on the scene. Hera caught his eye and he telepathically told her a brief version of what just happened. She frowned but straightened her shoulders and turned her attention back to the children, who should be wrapping up soon. Poseidon thought further about what he just saw. Apparently the Ophiotaurus was doing more than simply following Percy. If he understood what just happened correctly, for whatever reason the creature saw his son as his protector and would come easily to his call. Poseidon wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The prophecy regarding the Ophiotaurus was one of the most ominous in their history and the Titans clearly knew about his rebirth. It was a lot of power for a fourteen year old boy to hold and he might not even know it. Dionysus did his best in shielding the scene with Thalia and the Ophiotaurus from their sight and while it probably worked with the others, Dio didn’t have enough power to block him. Percy didn’t seem at all tempted, but that could easily change. If Zeus knew about the connection, it was doubtful he could keep Percy alive long enough to reach fifteen.
He had spent the last year and a half heading off any discussion about Percy and his right to live but that wouldn’t last. He got a small reprieve with Thalia’s return but now it was Athena who was agitating for a formal discussion and debate over what to do with the two children. If they survived this quest, he doubted she could be held off any longer.
He heard the prophecy for the quest and while he would never strike down his own son, that didn’t mean he was safe. He suspected that Artemis’s lieutenant would meet her end at Atlas’s hand, although admittedly Thalia wasn’t in the clear either depending on when the prophecy concluded. Unlike him, his youngest brother rarely held his mortal children in any type of affection. However just because a prophecy guaranteed two deaths did not mean that only two would occur. And if Artemis succeeded in getting the proof his hardheaded brother needed to recognize the threat in front of them, well that would change the entire political game.
He suppressed a sigh as the children finished their introductions and left. The questers still hadn’t emerged from the mountain. The Ophiotaurus was back in Mexico. And Zeus was still set on formally dismissing the Titan threat from the agenda.
“Finally,” Zeus muttered. “Now the first item of our agenda tonight–”
“You know,” Athena suddenly interrupted, “I think we should discuss the unauthorized earthquake in California the other day.” Her eyes twinkled with mirth, probably thinking she had “caught” him, while Zeus turned to glare. He bit down on a scathing retort. For all her supposed wisdom, his niece could be incredibly stupid sometimes. Or maybe just shortsighted. The earthquake in question happened in LA. Where his brother lived. The brother who was not here tonight despite rarely missing a Winter Solstice meeting. Even during World War II when Zeus did nothing but blame everything on Hades and the whole mess with the oath, Hades still showed up. The last time he missed a meeting was over 300 years ago when some enemy of the gods tried to use the Winter Solstice as the power boost needed for an uprising in the Underworld. The plot was quickly quashed but Hades rightfully believed it would be better to stay in his realm that night. That he wasn’t here tonight spoke volumes, although Athena likely didn’t know why. Not many gods had much experience with children of the Underworld and Hades did a good job of wrapping these two in shadows and doubt for anyone suspicious. Unless you knew exactly what you were looking for, it would be obvious that Bianca and Nico were half-bloods but otherwise their parentage would remain unknown. Artemis probably recognized it as she had taken in a few of his daughters in the Hunt over time, but the rest of the second generation Olympians likely did not see it. So Athena probably didn’t know that the hunter killed on the quest was one of Hades’s - hence the earthquake - and with Nico still alive Poseidon wanted to keep it that way. He owed his brother at least that much.
So he went a different route, one that should buy them more time while taking the focus off Hades. “Not all earthquakes are my doing, niece, as you well know. If my brother won’t allow me to maintain the fault lines in California then I have no control over when they slip.”
Zeus glowered at him but he calmly met his glare head on. His brother liked to pretend that the other pantheons didn’t exist, which was probably best for everyone since he had a fantastic knack for pissing off other gods and inter-pantheon wars were not fun. True, most gods in charge of earthquakes had long since faded or been absorbed into still existing gods and pantheons; those who were still around tended to just be quiet these days. The Egyptian pantheon was still around but Poseidon couldn’t remember the last quake Geb caused. As a general rule he stayed away from India and New Zealand not wanting to upset those pantheons, and obviously had no control over Alaska (that was all Alignak), but otherwise considered the rest of the world his playground. That was both invigorating and exhausting as it caused a lot of work.
Because Zeus also didn’t believe that fault lines had to be maintained to prevent unintentional earthquakes. Mortals and their science often got things incredibly wrong but every once in a while they would accidentally stumble onto an underlying truth, in this case that unless occasionally alleviated, pressure on fault lines would continue to increase until a quake (not of his doing) would occur and those quakes tended to be massive. It’s been like this since the dawn of time, and Hephaestus had the same issue with his volcanoes. As more and more pantheons faded away, that created even more work for the two of them.
Zeus refused to believe them and he had long since banned Poseidon from acting in California for the sake of his precious Roman encampment. He really didn’t give a rat’s ass over what his brother thought he could order him to do, especially with his own domain, but for the most part kept away from the state. He let his daughter Kymopoleia have her fun off the coast from time to time, but otherwise didn’t bother. It was far more fun to watch Zeus sputter when predictably the plates slipped and huge earthquakes occurred that he couldn’t be blamed for. Of course true to form, the Romans decided to blame an insanely remote descendent of his for the 1906 earthquake anyway (an incredibly rare gift for his own children to have, let alone a descendant 100 times removed), but the utter destruction of the camp that was solely the result of Jupiter’s micromanagement still brought a small smile to his face.
Hera looked to the ceiling, probably praying to the Fates for patience. She had been on her best behavior around her husband for the past two years, trying to not make a bad situation worse and help him see reason, first with the theft of the master bolt and then with news of their Father. As a result, she was like a geyser ready to blow. Poseidon hoped he was far away when it finally happened.
“So you claim,” Zeus grumbled, but before he could continue Hephaestus grunted and turned to Apollo.
“That reminds me, I need help with Mount Rainier again. The southern end of the caldera is getting too big. Think one of your arrows could release some of the pressure?” He and Apollo discussed the logistics as Zeus continued to fume. Athena chimed in with some technical questions about caldera size or whatnot, extending the discussion even further. Normally multiple gods would be yelling at them to shut up and move on but tonight no one said a word. Ares asked whether Apollo’s arrows would be enough to breach the mountain to relieve the pressure and at some point the conversation turned to the threat to Washington state’s wine country and Aphrodite’s desire to turn it into a spa region. He tuned out after that, choosing to watch Grover and the Ophiotaurus, who for some reason had turned south and were making their way through Central America. Grover really needed to come up with a better way to guide him rather than “an island that is long” and gesturing aimlessly in the direction he thought was east but often wasn’t. At least the creature was having fun. Poseidon wished he could join him.
Despite the hours they wasted so far, there still wasn’t any movement around Mount Tam. Poseidon kept one eye there and one with the Ophiotaurus as Zeus tried to once again move things along. He didn’t know if he should be proud at how well they were able to push him off, or lament that it didn’t seem all that different from a normal council meeting.
He wasn’t sure how the conversation went from a California earthquake to a Washington volcano to drought in southern Idaho but somewhere during Demeter’s rant on agriculture in arid environments, Artemis reemerged from the mountain with her moon chariot. The simultaneous but muted sigh of relief from nearly everyone indicated Poseidon wasn’t the only one paying attention to the mountain. The only one who seemed oblivious to the development was Zeus, which caused Poseidon to push down on another wave of annoyance and frustration towards his younger brother’s willful ignorance. Most of the council turned back to the argument at hand, obviously trying to draw it out until Artemis arrived, but looking around a few were clearly still focused on the scene in California. Apollo’s concern was understandable, Hera’s less so. That Aphrodite seemed interested made him wary; he hoped it was because of her strange relationship with Artemis rather than any of the children. Otherwise she probably had plans for Percy with Athena’s wretch, fates help him.
Meanwhile Zeus finally lost his temper. “Enough!” he roared. “I don’t care about potatoes or alfalfa, or whatever you are droning on about.”
And yeah, that earned him a heated twenty minute lecture from Demeter on the need for the king to take the domains of other gods seriously. Easy pickings really. Somewhere in the midst of that diatribe, Zoe Nightshade died and passed into the stars. Reflex led the four of them to turn to the constellation adorned ceiling, witnessing the birth of The Huntress. Aphrodite gave Apollo a sad look before turning her attention to the room at large. Hera’s eyes lingered on the new constellation, tapping a manicured nail on her throne before she too leaned back into her seat and focused on the building argument. Apollo’s eyes lingered on the ceiling the longest before slumping in his throne and bringing out his iPod. His nephew’s relationship with Zoe was contentious but as his twin’s lieutenant for at least 2,000 years, her loss would still leave a mark.
Poseidon kept watch on the scene. Percy had a streak of gray in his hair he knew wasn’t there before, leaving him to fret about what Atlas or his kin could have done to his boy before forcefully pushing the concern aside. If Percy wound up being the child of the prophecy, his days were numbered regardless.
“Can we talk about the agreement not to have major storms during peak mortal travel and shipping dates?” Hermes suddenly asked, not looking up from his phone. “These flight cancellations are killing me.” That he said anything at all was surprising. Zeus was holding him responsible for the actions of his son, despite denying what those actions were. The messenger had been uncharacteristically silent during council meetings over the past six months as a result.
Poseidon listened with half an ear to Zeus whining about how he is completely within his rights to curse the mortal world with bad weather over their insistence on celebrating the Christian holiday of Christmas instead of worshiping them. You would think he would get over it after 2,000 years but no. Iris made the mistake once of pointing out that the storms he sent were often cherished by mortals, as having a “white Christmas” was seen as a blessing. That led to several years of winter droughts. (Luckily no one has told him that most half-bloods celebrate Christmas, albeit in a secular way. He would probably use the camps as target practice for his master bolt if he knew.)
As Dionysus added his own approval for bad winter weather on the premise that being snowed in increased alcohol consumption, Poseidon stayed focused on the slip of consciousness he left with his son. Artemis already flashed away but had yet to appear, probably taking a moment to collect herself before appearing. Percy looked utterly exhausted while Athena’s girl was still arguing for Castellan’s redeemability. When he followed his cousin’s example and fell asleep on the back of his steed, Poseidon turned to the Princess Andromeda which was getting ready to lift anchor. He watched Luke Castellan board the ship, definitely a little worse for wear but alive, and the golden sarcophagus get loaded onboard. It seemed very little had changed despite the week’s events.
“Brother,” Hera said, interrupting his melancholic musings, “where is the beast now?”
He quickly calculated his location. At least they were finally heading back north. “Cuba.”
“What is it doing in Cuba?” Athena asked exasperatedly.
“Swimming,” he deadpanned. To his side he heard Apollo snort and Aphrodite gave a small smile.
“That is so helpful, uncle,” Athena hissed, her pride wounded once again. Everything under the sun hurt her damn pride. “I’m so glad you have such insight into the Titan Lord’s plans. Care to enlighten us further?”
So far, he was doing really well with keeping his anger at bay throughout the night but being lectured about his own Father, who he fought a brutal war against for ten years, by a childish whelp like Athena - that was a bridge too far. Fortunately for her, just at that moment the tall doors to the council room swung open.
Walking in, head held high despite her tattered dress covered in drying ichor, was Artemis. Zeus’s brow furrowed, apparently just now realizing how serious the situation with her disappearance had been. Poseidon noticed she still had open wounds on her arms and legs though they were clearly healing, just slowly. Probably an indication of how drained of power she currently was.
“I think I can help with that,” she said calmly to Athena.
Well if there was one thing that could be said for his brother’s children, they certainly knew how to make a dramatic entrance.