Chapter Text
Most demigods had something wrong about them.
That went doubly so for the fifth cohort, where any strange quirks were compounded by the discrimination they faced from the legion as a whole. After all, most demigods didn't survive past the age of ten without learning to deal with their trauma in increasingly creative ways.
Zach, however, pushed the limits.
He’d made waves from day one, when he’d been brought directly into camp by a goddess herself – his mother, Proserpina.
Proserpina had paid no heed to any of them, all her divine attention focused on her son, and Hazel hadn’t dared to move or make eye contact with her, acutely aware of both her position aboveground and her godly parent.
Proserpina looked...
Well, she looked nothing like what Hazel had expected her to look like.
She looked like a middle-aged woman, rather than the maiden that the myths made her out to be, but she carried herself with a sort of self-assuredness that – combined with the obviously divine aura – meant that nobody questioned her when she approached their only remaining praetor directly, for an audience.
Reyna had introduced Zach to the legion at large shortly after.
He was the first child of Proserpina, Queen of the Underworld, in living memory. It would have earned him as much ostracisation as Hazel, if not for his evident favour with her. At Camp Jupiter, few gods deigned to appear before them, and that she had personally delivered him to camp…
Plus, despite his build, stature and the way that his vibrant – almost unearthly – green eyes would shadow and bore into people’s souls when he was in a mood, he had such a way of lightening the atmosphere that it was impossible to not like him. He was as grounded as his heritage would imply, and at the same time, took to the legion’s activities with such refreshing delight that even the gloomiest of the fifth cohort didn't mind having him around.
He was exuberant, yes, but he didn't lack the ability to read the room. He made strange remarks, seemed to lack familiarity with the most basic knowledge that came from living on the West Coast, but he was present for everything that mattered, and more than willing to learn.
He was strange. He was a bit of a weirdo. But so were they, and Zach was – at least – a friendly weirdo.
Hazel hadn’t dared to approach him yet. She had a feeling that Zach knew something – and she was terrified that he knew about her flight from Asphodel. If he was on as good terms with his mother as his private escort would imply, could he have been told?
Nico didn’t have a very good opinion on Proserpina, but Zach wasn’t his mother, just like she wasn’t her father.
Still, she was too scared to broach the topic. They were still descended from opposite halves of an incredibly controversial godly union, and Zach was a wild card.
And, as the days went by, he continued to be very, very strange.
The very next week, Percy Jackson arrived with gorgons snapping at his heels.
Needless to say, their next war games went well. Up until, of course, someone skewered Gwen – and when Frank got his hands on Octavius, he’d be dead in the water – and Mars had showed up.
Mars had showed up, and spoken words mirroring Frank's grandmothers’ recollections of the almost-prophecy that Juno had spoken to her, all those years ago. His father had showed up, and demanded a quest to free Thanatos in the land beyond the gods.
“Now, my kid Frank Zhang is gonna lead the quest to free Thanatos, unless there are any objections?” Mars said, looking around.
Nobody said anything – at least until Mars continued explaining the quest.
“You can take two companions,” Mars said. “Those are the rules. One of them needs to be this kid.”
He pointed to Percy. “He’s gonna learn some respect for Mars on this trip, or die trying. As for the second, I don’t care. Pick whomever you want. Have one of your senate debates. You all are good at those.”
At first, it was dead quiet. Then there was a shuffling sound, and Zach raised a hand. There were a few murmurs and ripples of stifled shock that echoed around the legion, but Mars zeroed in on him with a sniper’s intensity. For the briefest moment, Frank felt relief at having the god's attention away from him, before fear for Zach’s life eclipsed it.
But instead of the god striking the puny son of Proserpina down where he stood, Mars… peered more closely.
“Ah. You.” The God of War recognised Zach. Because of course he did. “A most intriguing choice you’ve made here, Zach.” He pronounced Zach’s name strangely, voicing the velar plosive.
Then he laughed, a deep, terrifying sound that echoed across the near-silent legion.
Zach, who seemed to have a death wish, rolled his eyes. They seemed to shine brighter, a brilliant verdant that Frank had sworn had been a more muted olive earlier that day. “I have a request.” He said, and for some strange reason, Mars humoured him. “Can your kid take another companion?”
It was obvious what he was getting at. Anybody who knew how much time Frank and Hazel spent together could have guessed that, when push came to shove, she would be the final member of the quest.
“Usually, a quest has three demigods.” Mars said. “But in your case,” and here he grinned, unnervingly wide, “I sense that blood needs be shed, and a war against the dead is exactly what is needed.”
Zach put a hand on one hip. “Sure, let’s call it that. There’ll be bloodshed, alright.”
His face darkened, an expression that Frank had only ever seen once before.
Once, after dark, both of them half-ensconced by shadows, Frank had caught Zach gazing in the direction of Camp Jupiter’s main entrance by the Little Tiber. He’d seen Hazel’s half-brother Nico around before, and the levels of brooding that Zach had been reaching might have even surpassed his. It was certainly a change from his usually cheerful countenance.
“Very well! You may join Frank Zhang on his quest to free Death Incarnate.” Mars’ gaze was heavy, but Zach stood firm.
Firm, and irreverent. His tone was almost dangerously flippant. “Thanks.”
Mars stepped closer. Frank, along with the rest of the legion, held his breath. “You know, they do say that life and death are inextricable, and war is often what connects the two. Wouldn’t you agree, Zach?”
Zach, for the first time, didn’t say anything.
Mars laughed again, but this time, it was shorter, harsher. Tinged with something a little crueler. “I think that’s my cue. Until next time, Romans – don’t disappoint me!”
The god of war erupted into flames, and then he was gone without any trace of his presence remaining, except for the quickly dissipating pressure.
Reyna was the first to move. She looked warily between Frank and Zach, as if unsure of what to make of the sudden developments. Making a decision, she decided to turn towards Frank, raising her arm in a Roman salute.
“Ave, Frank Zhang, son of Mars.”
Frank was still stuck on what on earth Mars had meant.
“I’m Phineas.” The old man introduced himself, before identifying Percy with startling clarity considering his blindness.
Percy had a bad feeling about this.
Their journey north had barely begun, and already they had come across all manner of terrible omens. First, the karpoi, who Zach had skillfully dispatched. For grain spirits, they hadn’t seemed to eager to listen to the son of Proserpina, but he found himself incredibly grateful that Zach had come along.
Then, they had had to skirt around Polybotes and his army, marching south to Camp Jupiter. Somehow, they would have to make it Alaska to free Thanatos and back before the army could arrive. After that, the basilisks, and now some disheveled old man with a terrible attitude.
“Oh my, the smell of gold and deep earth. Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. And next to you– the son of Mars. But there’s more to your story, Frank Zhang–”
“Ancient blood,” Frank muttered under his breath, as if somebody had told him it many times before. “Prince of Pylos. Blah, blah, blah.”
As Phineas zeroed in on Frank, Percy could see Zach slowly edging away, as if hoping to escape before Phineas pinned him down with an equally unsettling conclusion.
It was in vain. “And you–”
Zach froze.
“Oh, you are interesting, aren’t you? Son of Proserpina and…” He cackled. “You know, eons ago, Jupiter cursed me. He sent those harpies to steal my food. I had a bit of a big mouth, you see; I gave away too many secrets that the gods wanted kept.”
He could see Zach vibrating in place, as if he was stoppering some retort that Percy had come to expect of him. They had that in common – an inability to keep their mouths shut, for better or for worse.
“For instance – this is an irony! Are you sure you’re going to last long enough to return to your lover, child of the Underworld?”
Zach flinched back, and Phineas moved quickly on. “And you, you’re supposed to be dead.” He said to Hazel, “and as for you–” he now turned to Frank. “Your life depends on a burned stick.”
“What are you talking about?” Percy’s confusion was quickly overshadowed by how each of his companions recoiled.
Both Zach and Hazel went for their weapons, and the conversation devolved from there.
After Phineas had given them the instruction to bring him the red harpy, they grabbed some of his food and took off down the street, eager to be temporarily free of the old man’s spiteful words and sadistic ultimatum.
“He needs to die. Again.” Hazel said, eyes glistening.
“Agreed.” Zach said. The rain didn’t seem to have touched him quite so much; while Hazel’s hair was drenched and sticking to the sides of her face, his seemed to be impervious. It looked damp, but that wasn’t doing much to hamper its volume.
If Percy didn't know better, he would have said Zach was literally steaming. The air had gotten a lot warmer.
He desperately wanted to comfort them both, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.
For a while now, Percy had suspected that Hazel had come back from the Underworld, and that had only been reinforced by Gwen’s revival during the Camp’s war games. Still, there was a difference between suspecting and knowing, and that boundary being crossed without her permission had shaken her down to the core.
She looked like her confidence had been zapped out of her.
And then there was Zach – he looked nothing like somebody who was nearing their expiry date. What on earth had Phineas meant, about lasting long enough to return to his lover? Was it something like what Percy had, worrying if he would survive long enough to reclaim his memories and see Annabeth again?
“I’m sorry.” Hazel said miserably, to Zach.
“What for?”
“I’ve been avoiding you since you got to camp.” She admitted. Percy had noticed that, but he had thought her stilted conversation with Zach since the beginning of the quest had been because of their parentage – why bring it up now? “Proserpina is the Queen of the Underworld. I thought, like Nico and I, you might be able to…?”
“Sense that you aren’t meant to be on the surface?” Zach filled in the blanks.
Hazel nodded.
“Oh, yeah, I knew. I don’t care.” Zach said, matter-of-fact. He muttered something only for Hazel’s ears that made her eyes widen. Percy desperately wanted to know what he had said, but it seemed like the two of them had forgotten that he and Frank were still present. He already felt like he was eavesdropping. “You know he’s wrong, right? Dead people aren’t all alike.”
She shook her head. “I… You don’t know the whole story. I should have been sent to Punishment. I don’t know why you… Compared to him, I’m just as bad.”
“Hey, now!” Zach clasped her shoulder, indignant on her behalf. “That’s not true in the slightest!”
Percy thought this would be a good point to remind them that the other two were still here. “He’s nothing like you, Hazel. I don’t care what he says.”
They didn’t seem to be getting through to her. Her head remained low.
“You’re not!” Frank reinforced. Phineas had gotten to him too; Percy could see the lines of tension running through his whole body.
Even so, he seemed determined to reassure Hazel first, so it was with a silent, unspoken consensus that that was what they did first.
The rest of it could wait until they’d pulled Phineas’ knowledge from his grimy throat.
All the way up through the rest of the United States, then up through to Vancouver, and until they’d boarded a plane, Hazel had been horribly worried for Zach. It was easier to worry for her friends than it was to face her own worry for herself.
As soon as they had worked through the residual tension from their encounter with Phineas, they had run into the actual Amazons in an Amazon warehouse. Immediately after that, they’d decided to head to Frank’s family home, only for that too to go awry.
Now, leaving Frank’s grandmother behind with her death at hand, and his family home up in flames, they were heading towards the place she’d first perished.
It brought her some comfort that she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t meant to be on the surface.
That secret, that whisper that Zach had traded her without expecting anything in return, had dissolved most of her misgivings about him. It wasn’t like she’d had many in the first place. For all of his snark, he was innately curious, and knowing that he had come from the underworld – just like her! – explained a lot about his stranger quirks.
She still hadn’t asked what era he’d been from, but she suspected it was a lot more recent than hers. Zach had mentioned that before he came to camp, he’d actually been living at home.
It was one of the few things they had managed to extract about his life. Despite how spending so much time together had exposed some of the others’ deepest secrets, Zach was remarkably tight-lipped about his past. Phineas had mentioned a lover, but Zach liked pretending that he hadn’t heard that part, and nobody had wanted to be the one to bring it up.
What she did want to broach – what it seemed like the rest of the quest party seemed to want to broach – was how Zach had begun to cough intermittently, as their quest had gone on. The first time, it had been a few coughs, barely enough to draw notice. She’d realised it belatedly, and Frank had asked if he’d choked on his own spit.
‘Something like that,’ he’d replied.
It had happened again, later that evening.
Then in the morning, as Frank and his grandmother had talked.
Now, on the plane, he was succumbing to another coughing fit.
The tears were still freshly dried on Frank’s face, but he’d shared a glance with her over Zach’s hunched over body. It was easier to face someone else’s problems than their own, sometimes.
By the time that Zach straightened up, he was faced with three sets of eyes glued to his face. Hazel couldn’t believe that his face had gotten so pale, so quickly, though it was slowly recolouring as he gulped for breath.
“Ack! Not so close!” He leaned back.
Hazel leaned forward. In a way, he was her step-brother, and maybe that was what made it so easy to get into his space, now that they’d cleared the air. “That’s not an ordinary illness.”
It was hard to describe how exactly she knew, but she had a feeling. That curling, deadened sensation that she got when someone had recently died – or when Nico showed up – had intensified in the last day. Something was going on, and she was beginning to suspect it had something to do with what Phineas had said.
Was it something terminal?
Zach’s time at home, from what little they had gleaned, had been under a strict, authoritarian father. Even so, he’d mentioned weapons training for a purpose that he refused to disclose, and that implied a certain level of robustness that this writhing sickness would contradict.
“What? No, it’s just a… minor cold.” Zach said.
Hazel levelled him with a steady look.
“It is!” He insisted.
“Come on, man,” Percy said.
They were all raw. Frank had just explained a prophecy that Juno had given him when he was a baby, and the way that his life had been tied to a piece of firewood. Percy had just revealed that he’d remembered the other camp he came from, a Greek camp for demigods on the other side of the United States of America.
Perhaps that was why it took so little for Zach to give.
He wilted. “Right… Look, it’s nothing to worry about. With any luck, the fresh air in Alaska should give my lungs a bit of a respite.”
Hazel picked up on what he wasn’t saying. “Alaska, specifically?”
He glanced around. Seeming to deliberate something, his lips pinched before he sighed, deeply. Then, taking a fortifying breath, he began to speak.
“Well, you’re not the only one who shouldn’t really be on the surface.”
From the other two, she heard short, sharp inhales.
“My mother… When Thanatos was imprisoned, she knew I had to get to camp.” Zach was looking mostly at her, but he was speaking to all of them. “But my circumstances were different from yours. I couldn’t leave home without repercussions. Physical ones.”
He winced, but didn’t elaborate beyond that.
None of them pushed.
“So she devised a plan. With the Doors of Death open, the barrier between life and death is thinner than it usually is. It meant that with her blessing – and that of some of the other gods – I could venture out to camp with minimal consequences. But there’s only so long that their blessings can hold.”
Frank frowned. “How would Alaska help?”
“It’s a land beyond the gods.” Hazel reminded him.
Zach nodded. “The blessings should hold until the Feast of Fortuna. But in the land beyond the gods,” and here, he looked directly at Percy, “Hades’ curse should be weakened, so I’ll be able to fight Alcyoneus without impairment.”
His use of Hades was incredibly deliberate.
“You’re Greek.” Percy breathed.
Hazel’s breath caught in her throat, for an entirely different reason. Zach was the son of Pros– Persephone, the Queen of the Underworld.
Of course.
The King of the Underworld, the Greek god of the dead, can’t have been pleased that his wife had had a demigod child with a random mortal. What sort of person must have garnered Persephone’s attention – enough that she would risk her husband’s wrath to have his child?
“Your father was one of the gods who helped to strengthen the blessings upon me,” Zach was telling Percy, who was listening intently.
Hazel refocused back on the conversation, now feeling incredibly guilty that she had been allowed to return to the surface without quite so many repercussions. Zach had a liveliness to him that Hazel felt like she lacked, and if any of them had been able to wander the earth again, Zach seemed like he would have been the one to make the most of the opportunity.
He’d managed to get the blessings of multiple gods, for Olympus’ sake.
As if sensing that her thoughts had gone in a gloomier direction, Frank reached out and squeezed her hand. She squeezed his, attempting to muster a smile to reassure him. She wasn’t sure if she succeeded.
“It’s thanks to them that I’ve been able to get this far without, well…” Zach trailed off. They could fill in the rest easily enough. “Your dad almost threw a wrench into my plans,” he addressed Frank, recounting the events with startling cheer. “But to be honest, if he hadn’t let me join you, I would have tried to join you in Alaska anyway.”
“But… why?” Frank asked.
That was a question that Hazel wanted to ask, too. It’d been bugging her, ever since Zach had first addressed Lord Mars directly.
Why would Zach, the son of Persephone, want to help to defeat the giant who was her husband’s – and in many of the stories, her kidnapper’s – enemy? Why would he want to fight the giant meant to bring down the caster of his curse?
Why would he want to free Death, when the act of doing so would most likely lead to his own demise?
Zach smiled.
“Well,” he said, “I suppose you could say it’s personal.”
They were getting nearer to Thanatos, he could tell.
On the back of Arion – the immortal horse child of his uncle Poseidon and grandmother Demeter – he curled inwards as much as possible, protecting the contents of his inner jacket pocket. Mort hadn’t been able to summon Thanatos in almost a year, but he hadn’t been able to leave Mort behind.
Usually, a mere gap of nine months was hardly a cause for alarm. Earlier that century – or was it last? – Thanatos had needed to leave for a few years at a time, thanks to some mortal world war that had been ravaging the surface.
These days, however, even the House was unstable.
His father spent most days in his room, rather than at his desk, and even his mother had begun to limit her time spent in the public chamber of the House. It had only been a matter of time before he found out exactly why Than had been so conspicuously absent.
Mother, thankfully, had been understanding. She had managed to help him accumulate the support he needed to procure a combined boon strong enough to withstand the curse he had inherited, and even then, he knew that the only reason it had actually worked was because of Thanatos’ absence and how unstable his father’s aspects were.
It stung.
Melinoë said that the Fates had ceased their weavings – when had they begun to spin again?
Knowing that he could experience the surface for a prolonged period of time, but only so long as his love was chained by a giant and his family was in turmoil, made him want to rip Polybotes’ entire advancing army to pieces.
Perhaps he would still get the chance, but Thanatos came first.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t enjoyed his time on the surface. Far from it.
Being able to see everything that his friends and family talked about, being able to pretend to be mortal for a few days… It had been an indescribable experience. Part of Hecate’s contributions to his combined boon had been the transformation of his appearance, which had allowed Proserpina to bring him to Camp Jupiter as her ‘mortal’ son.
It had let him experience a life other than the one he spent eternity living.
Plus, he hadn’t known that he had another sister, nor one who he had passed by in Asphodel for decades. If they weren’t attacking him, the shades in Asphodel tended to blur together, so he was monumentally glad that they’d had these three days to get to know each other in what capacity they could. But the surface wasn’t home.
Now, as they sped through the fourth day on the divine horse that Hazel had charmed, his goals narrowed once more.
They dismounted Arion near a deathly-silent Roman camp, though Hazel stayed astride the horse – she was the only one he truly tolerated.
The camp was an eerie facsimile of the one where Zagreus had first met the demigods. Back at Camp Jupiter, someone had told him that it had been constructed according to Roman military standard – and this frozen-over, dilapidated construction in the middle of Hubbard Glacier was really driving that home.
“Well, this feels hostile.” Zagreus stated the obvious.
“No kidding.” Frank said.
Frank was a courageous young man, and a lot more tolerable than his father. Zagreus been surprised by how fond he’d grown of the demigods he’d been travelling with, especially since he hadn’t appreciated the way that Mars had tried to lay partial claim to the connection between him and Thanatos.
They might not have ever defined their relationship in words – there was no way to slap a label over the top of a relationship that ran so deep, intertwined with both of their aspects and who they were – but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t definite. At least Ares was courteous.
As they approached the gates, the interior of the camp became clear. Without people to block the way, they could see straight down the middle to–
“Than.” Zagreus breathed, and set off running.
The demigods called out behind him, but it was a straight shot down to where the giant had chained Thanatos. They caught up, soon enough, Frank and Percy huffing from the sudden run – but Zagreus hardly noticed them stopping a few metres back.
Before his love’s slumped and bound form, he kneeled down and reached out.
Hazel’s startled shout barely fazed him.
“Hey,” he said softly. “It’s me.”
Thanatos lifted his head.
He looked physically unharmed, but Zagreus remembered all the times he had lamented about how the surface was too bright and too overstimulating. Here, chained in place, in the middle of a glacier which did nothing but reflect the sunlight and make the entire camp glisten brilliantly, he looked downright ill.
“...Zag?”
Around them, ghostly soldiers began pouring from the buildings around them. Shades, undoubtedly. All were armoured and armed, but though they stood at the ready, it was as if they were waiting for something to happen. It was a frustratingly familiar sight, and Zagreus might have even paid them attention if Thanatos wasn’t right in front of him.
“Yeah.” He said, tracing Thanatos’ chains all the way to where they vanished into the solid ice of the glacier. “I came for you.”
“...We’re on the surface.” Of course his love was focused on that.
“I know.” He said, gently. Touching a hand to Thanatos’ skin, he reached for the weakly-pulsing boons that he had been granted. They wouldn’t help him here, but they would explain what he could not. “Mother pulled through.”
“Zach–” Hazel’s baffled shout came from behind him. “I don’t know what’s going on – but Lord Death! We’re here to rescue you. If you have any control over these shades, please–!”
Thanatos turned to look at her, his hood falling as he shifted. His striking appearance seemed to catch the demigods off-guard, and Hazel fell silent. If they hadn’t been together for so long, Zagreus might have felt a little possessive, but as it was, he only felt strangely proud.
Of course Thanatos was beautiful.
It was lovely to see that the demigods had functional eyes.
“I’m afraid that these shades are not mine.” Thanatos told her, “they’re under the employ of Alcyoneus.”
Hazel’s breath hitched. “Where is he?”
“Close.” Thanatos said, unhelpfully.
“Thanks.” Zagreus resisted the urge to say something equally unhelpful. It wouldn’t do to quarrel in front of the demigods.
“I try.” Thanatos said dryly, as if they weren’t talking about the giant who had lured him to Alaska and imprisoned him for nine months.
Percy had had enough.
“We’re wasting time.” With his sword drawn, he stepped forward and took a swing at the chains binding Thanatos to the glacier.
Instead of the chains breaking, the sword froze where it hit the chains, and frost began creeping up the sword. Frantically tugging it back, Frank moved to join him in pulling it away before Zagreus waved a hand over where the two connected, freeing Riptide.
“How…?” Percy gasped.
He supposed that the game was over. It had been fun while it lasted, but now that they had reached Hubbard Glacier, there was no point in keeping up pretences when it would only further delay freeing Thanatos.
“How do we free you, Than?”
Frank mouthed ‘Than’ with an incredulous look on his face that Zagreus soundly ignored.
“Are you sure that these demigods want me released?” Thanatos raised an eyebrow. “Your half-sister over there – she escaped from Asphodel not too long ago.”
“Yeah, we know.” Zagreus said. “But you heard her! We’re all here to free you.”
Hearing his assertion seemed to bring Hazel back to herself – she’d been sent reeling by half-sister. Whoops.
“Listen, Death.” Hazel glared down at him from her position atop Arion. “I didn’t come back from the Underworld and travel thousands of miles to be told that I’m stupid for setting you free. If I die, I die. I’ll fight this whole army if I have to. Just tell us how to break your chains.”
She really was an amazing mortal.
When she ended up in the Underworld again, Zagreus was going to personally seek her out – he couldn’t believe that she had ended up in Asphodel the first time. The Phlegethon flooding problem being fixed didn’t stop it from being a criminally boring place to spend eternity.
Thanatos looked like he wanted to say something else, something just as idiotic or antagonising as what had last come out of his mouth. One look from Zagreus made him bite back his words, evidently deciding on a different course of action.
“These shades were once demigods like you.” Thanatos started. “They fought for Rome, dying before they completed their quests, and were sent to Asphodel, like you. Now Gaea has promised them a second life if they fight for her today. If you release me and defeat them, they will have to return to the Underworld to face eternal punishment for treason against the gods. If you free me, I will do my duty.” He drew his spiel to and end. “But of course, they will try to stop you.”
“Hmph.” Who did Thanatos think he was? As the product of Hecate’s boon, Zagreus could tell that his illusion had been razor-thin since they arrived in Alaska. There was little point in keeping any more concealed. “It’s nothing I’ve not faced before.”
“You’re not usually so testy.” Thanatos frowned at him.
“You are literally chained to a massive chunk of ice, Than!” Zagreus threw his hands up in the air. “Tell us how to free you, or so help me I will send Hypnos next.”
That seemed to get through to him. Slumping back, Thanatos gave in. “Very well. Only the fire of life can melt the chains of death. Fortunately for these demigods, Zagreus, your presence here uncomplicates things.”
“Without the riddles, please?” Percy asked.
Hearing a shaky breath, Zagreus heard footsteps come closer – it was Frank, whose life was tied to a piece of firewood. “It’s not a riddle.”
“Woah, hold on.” Zagreus interjected. He held out a hand, stopping Frank from getting any closer. “Your mortal life is short enough as it is, Frank. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
“What?” He sounded like he was daring to hope.
All three of them now watched him as if they’d never seen him before. And they hadn’t – not in his true form. With a sigh, Zagreus let the illusion melt away. Hecate’s illusions tended to be too solid, anyway, it wasn’t like he could keep it if he wanted to free Thanatos from his chains.
The ice below him began to hiss as his feet burst into flame, and he pulled Exagryph out as his winter coat and jeans dissolved to reveal the grey-and-white simple tunic that he had been wearing before his mother had taken him to Camp Jupiter. The familiar weight and warmth of his laurel crown abruptly returned, and he reached up to pull it off.
The symbol of his status was perpetually in flame, and it would serve this purpose well.
Putting it next to the chain around Thanatos’ left wrist, he began to melt the chains as a new person made themselves known. A great laugh echoed around the glacier, and he glanced over to find that the demigods had turned away from him and Thanatos to face the giant at the gates of the camp.
Alcyoneus had arrived.
“I’ll free Thanatos.” Zagreus told the demigods, using Thanatos’ full name so that there was little room for ambiguity. “And get the shades. I’m sorry for deceiving you – but I had to make sure that this quest succeeded. You guys get that, right?”
They didn’t seem like they did – not yet, at least. That, or they were still digesting his new appearance.
In the pools that were forming at his feet, Zagreus could see that his eyes had reverted to their usual appearance too; one green, Persephone’s, and the other, a blood-red iris in a pitch-black sclera. Unmistakably chthonic.
Once again, Hazel was the first to say anything. “Right.” She said, as if trying to convince herself. She had glanced back briefly, but her attention was mostly on the giant that was steadily approaching them.
“We’ll talk later.” He decided. “For now, you guys just need to handle Alcyoneus.”
Frank laughed; a little hysterical. It seemed like that was the only reaction he had left in him, warring relief and trepidation plain across his face. “Yeah. Simple.”
And maybe, in the wake of learning that he wouldn’t need to burn his lifeforce up before fighting Alcyoneus, it truly was.