Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.

13. Game, Set, Match

"Mmm, and the tortilla! Hylla, the tortilla is so good! Warm, crispy, but still flexible and tough enough to hold the contents." Percy popped the last piece of his taco into his mouth. "Those are some seriously great tacos. What's the place called again?"

Hylla was grinning at him. "Tacos Chukis. It's good, right?"

Percy sighed. "So good."

She nodded as the light turned green.

The car smelled like meat and corn tortillas now. Opening the windows meant letting the rain in, though, and honestly, Percy didn't mind the scent. At least now his stomach was full, and he was nice and content.

They drove down East Broadway, a wide street serviced by electric trolleybuses, with long sections of overhead wires running down perpendicular roads and further along the street. Traffic here felt heavier than back in the downtown district, which Percy didn't think made sense, but he was no traffic connoisseur so he wouldn't know the intricacies of public and private transportation.

The radio was tuned to channel 94.9, a local station from the nearby University of Washington. The broadcast had statements from the chief of police in neighboring city Bellevue regarding the murders at Lake Sammamish. The chief warned people not to be alone in the area by the lake at night since that was when police believed most people went missing.

Once the news segment ended, some soft music came on.

Percy put his elbow on the door's armrest, chin in his palm. His eyes wandered in conjunction with his mind.

"You mentioned you had a sister," he blurted out. The reason for his speaking was lost on him since it would be idle small talk. But he was the kind of person who needed to fill the quiet with something before he went crazy. Long silences made him uncomfortable.

Hylla looked at him oddly. "I did."

Wincing, he decided it would be too awkward if he just left it at that. "You said younger, right?"

"Yes."

Man, this was going worse than he'd imagined. She was giving him nothing to work with. Maybe he should have stopped there, seeing as she clearly didn't have much to say on the subject. But he was in too deep. "So… how old is she?"

The light just ahead of them turned red. Hylla slowed to a stop.

"Thirteen. Fourteen in a few months."

Percy nodded. "Cool… cool. Yeah, I remember when I was thirteen. Good times."

They waited for the light to turn green again.

"Is she an Amazon too?" Percy asked.

Hylla started to glare at him from the corner of her eye. "No."

Normally, Percy was partial to leaning away from these kinds of confrontations. He didn't like making people upset with him if he could consciously avoid doing so. Now, though, he was feeling particularly confident in a peculiar sort of way, which helped him ask what he wanted to ask.

"Where is she then?"

Her lips thinned. "California."

The light was still red. Why in the world was the light still red? Percy felt even more uncomfortable now, as they simply sat, dead on the road, with the thrum of an engine and the sound of strings being plucked on a guitar filling the cabin.

Through the windshield, Percy spotted a dark figure jump from the top of a distant building. He squinted as the spot grew larger.

He then saw the wings.

"What in Carmen Sandiego…"

"Gryphon!" Hylla unbuckled her seatbelt. "Get out!"

Percy did as she said, throwing himself out of the car right as the monster's rear legs—which were like a lion's—smashed through the front windshield. The gryphon dug the sharp talons of its front eagle legs into the car's top.

It screeched at them, the eagle head turning to Hylla first. It leaped from the car and tried to gouge her with its talons.

Hylla rolled away, her cutlass forming as she came up.

Percy slid over the hood of the car. Around them were trees on the sidewalk, lining the street. Though they were bare for the winter, they were alive. That's all Percy needed.

"Get it to take off!" he shouted at Hylla.

"Why?!"

"Just trust me!"

She gave him a skeptical nod and ran at the monster. It was a reckless charge, and in the process of attacking, she failed to avoid the gryphon's beak. The monster was faster than its body showed.

Her cutlass gave it a minor cut on its front leg, but a chunk of her jacket was torn off, along with a bit of skin from her shoulder.

The gryphon shrieked and leaped back, the steady beat of its wings taking it away from Hylla. Just as it went to circle overhead, Percy swung his arm, attention split between the trees closest to them and the monster's position.

At once, the branches of each tree lunged at the gryphon. The monster was impaled by a dozen pointed tips of wood, its body exploding into gold dust above them.

Percy sneezed when the remains tickled his nose. "Gross. I'm breathing monster ash."

"That was a good call back there. You really are good with plants." Hylla winced as she examined her bloody shoulder.

"Yeah, well," Percy looked at her injury, grimacing. "It's kind of my main conceit. I'm not a great fighter like you or Thalia. But I've gotta be good at something, right?"

She looked at him oddly. "Self-deprecation doesn't suit you."

"Really? I always thought it suited me best. Like a fine Armani two-piece—black—with a red patterned tie, and a pair of Stacy Adams wing-tip oxfords."

"Is now really the time to be making jokes?" Hylla gestured at the gathering crowd. Thankfully, the people were busy staring at the trees, which still hadn't gone back to normal, their branches crisscrossing above the street, barely having avoided the trolley lines.

Percy shrugged. "Hey, if you're willing to be the straight-man, I think we have potential."

"Potential for what?"

"A buddy cop show. I'll be the dashing, handsome young rookie with a chip on his shoulder. You can be the grizzled war vet who became a cop after learning his wife was pregnant."

Hylla squinted. "Wait, wait, wait… why am I a guy in the show?"

Percy hummed. "Because it's a parody?"

"That doesn't sound convincing at all. Why would you make it a question and ask me if you're the one who came up with the idea?"

"Okay, but you already know the perfect lines! You were born for this role. I bet you'd look great in front of the camera! You've got a very flattering profile."

Hylla rolled her shoulder, pained. "Why did it have to be you of all people? Let's just get out of here."

"Yo, but Myrr can be the hard-ass captain who's lost too many officers in the line of duty already..."

"How did we get on this topic? Please, remind me again, because I'm so... I'm just so lost."

Percy glanced at the gathering crowd. "I'll explain as we go."

«White Cut»

At Percy's insistence, they moved into the nearby Cal Anderson Park.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

"This is nothing. Fought a group of Cyclopes a month ago; one of them broke three of my ribs with a right hook. I'll be fine."

Percy felt his stomach turn. "Uh, good to know."

"Why are we here?" Hylla asked as they climbed up the cement stairs.

Percy ran a hand through some rose bushes behind a handrail. Thorns on the stems sank back into the plant as his fingers neared, making sure not to cut him. Flowers, pink, white, and red, bloomed from newly grown bulbs, making the bush spring to life with color.

He took a breath. Nature here fought with him. But not because it was wild.

No, there was something else.

At the top of the stairs, he could see directly across from him, where a small church rose over some nearby condominiums and apartments. The sett had turned to gravel beneath him. A guitar was still being strummed, able to be made out over the sound of rain falling on the ground and bushes.

"Cal Anderson Reflecting Pool," Hylla said, nodding at a long pool of water to their right. At the end of the shallow basin was a squat building with graffiti painted on its gray stone.

She then pointed to their left, at another pool, and said, "Lincoln Reservoir."

Unlike the reflecting pool, the reservoir was being fed with water via a manmade trough. Sitting up a short incline was a ten-foot-tall flat-topped cone.

And there, resting with one leg hanging off the edge of the cone, a man lazily strummed a… harp?

"This dude brought a harp with him?" Percy scratched his head. "Top tier dedication right there."

Hylla squinted at the man, sword in hand again. They hadn't brought any nectar or ambrosia from Amazon H.Q., so her shoulder was still exposed, though the blood was mostly dried.

"The day has been set for another great story!" Harp Guy shot to his feet, swinging the instrument around like he was playing with a baby. "Wonderful! Good news! A plan well executed! Two heroes so have answered my call. But between the two groups, you both and I, who will fall? Answer me first, good sir!"

Percy pointed to himself questioningly. When the man nodded, he said, "Um… can I get the question again?"

Harp Guy hummed, then snapped his fingers and nodded. "Aha! An epiphany! This sudden dawning of knowledge! Cry out, for the sun does so cut through gloom as this idea strikes me past walls of ignorance! You, good sir, I thank you for your input. Now I turn the question to the good madam! The sorceress has told me of you. Please, enlighten me."

Hylla gave him a straight answer. "If you work for her, then you should know we've already crushed your pal Hector. It isn't a stretch to imagine doing the same with you."

"Ah! A fair assumption for a fair lady! But is that how the story is going to play out?" Harp Guy shrugged grandly. "I don't believe so. Wouldn't you agree it makes more sense for a tragic hero such as myself to come out on top for once? And the audience! Well, the audience often enjoys idyllic stories of redemption don't they?"

"Tragic hero, eh?" Hylla raised her sword. "Which one? I mean, there're just so many out there."

"Shock!" Harp Guy gasped and shouted at the same time. "My emotion can only be shock, correct? Yes, I am electrified by your youthful lightning. Egads, eish, eh, and ah! I can do nothing but exclaim this shock to the world. How a person can listen to my music for so long and not realize who I am… a sin, or a virtue? Pride, or humbleness? Calm, or wrath? A choice not easily made! Tell me, good sir, if I were to call myself the greatest musician, what name would you prescribe to me? I am simply aching to my core for this knowledge!"

Percy stopped playing with a nearby patch of daisies. He'd only been half-listening to what Harp Guy was saying, but understood the gist of it. "Greatest musician… I'm gonna have to guess… Squeeze-A-Song Elmo?"

Hylla choked down her laughter, shoulders shaking heavily at trying to keep it in.

Harp Guy pointed his instrument at Percy. "A fair shake at it! Tell me, is this… Squeeze-A-Song Elmo a great musician of this era?"

"Yeah, totally, he's super popular." Percy nodded, his lips begging to curl up into a smile. "He's, uh, second to none."

"Excellent! Then I shall make this my new goal: find and defeat Squeeze-A-Song Elmo in a musical duel!" Harp Guy grinned broadly. "Let him fear me. Hear me! Fear the voice that can bring even gods to heel, Squeeze-A-Song Elmo! You will taste naught but utter defeat! I come for you!"

Percy and Hylla looked at each other, openly laughing. Hylla grabbed his shoulder for support as she doubled over.

"I see my words can still bring people great joy as well! Wonderful, wonderful. Unfortunately, my time to discuss the fine details with you has come to an end. Alas, I was hoping to recite a new verse for my enemies!"

The first to recover, Hylla took a deep breath, barely able to stop the short chuckles that still gripped her. Still, she said, "Wait, we, uh, haven't gotten your name yet. And we can't just let you leave."

Percy straightened up. "Yeah, sorry man. It was a good laugh, but if you're working with the sorceress, we have to stop you."

At least here, in the park, Percy felt he could be more useful than at the pier.

With nature around him, he'd be able to call Rana for help.

But there was an underlying tension in the vegetation. He'd noted it before, and now, it popped back up in his mind.

"Names have power, yes? Well, perhaps you will need that power. Eventually, I hope to compose something made from the conflict we shall have! Yes, I see. Very well, if it's a name you desire, it's a name you will get."

The man bowed elegantly. "My name is Orpheus. And I have been given life again to breathe vigor back into this world. Ah, but my sweet Eurydice, wait for me in Elysium 'til I can return! It shall not take long, I believe! But until the time comes for my soul to be whisked back o'er the frigid Styx's waters, allow me to entertain the masses, O mother most necessary."

Hylla shuddered. "Oh… this is bad."

Percy frowned. "Isn't he the dude who tried to get his wife back from the Underworld?"

Hylla bit her lip and nodded. "I don't understand. Is the sorceress really able to shield herself from Hades' view? He should've interfered by now. Bringing back the dead is..."

Orpheus plucked a string on his harp.

The note echoed throughout the park, a sad, horribly painful wail of agony that lanced Percy with pity for the hardships of losing a loved one. The noise lingered for a second, then dispersed, along with the emotion it had carried in its tone.

Percy's heart had wrenched at the even though he'd never actually experienced what Orpheus was trying to convey.

Hylla, on the other hand, had fallen to her knees. Rain cascaded down her face, but Percy was pretty sure tears were racing down in rivulets with the contour of her cheeks. A hand gripped her jacket, the center of her chest, tight and iron-like.

"She's weak of heart…" Orpheus muttered. "She would have failed in the trial set forth by Hades as well. A shame."

The man then turned to Percy. "But you. Between having loved and lost, and never having loved at all… was it by choice, or were you given no say in your experiences, good sir?"

"I have a tragic backstory," Percy shrugged. "Sue me."

"Ah! Tragedy is something I know well," Orpheus ran his finger down the second string on his harp. "If you haven't experienced the pain of love, then perhaps a tribulation of loneliness?"

With that, he flicked the string.

A screech sent Percy staggering back.

Loneliness.

He'd always been alone.

And when he'd tried to give himself a companion, all he'd done was make a monster.

He would always be alone. The song told him as much. Who had been there for him when he'd needed it? He'd never held anybody. He'd never been loved.

Nobody would care if he died, right? Who would?

Who?

Then, like a bolt of lightning, he saw, in his mind's eye, the transitional brightening in his mother's eyes when they spoke. He remembered her smile, and how color seeped into her ghastly visage, as if he were the sun breaking through a cloudy day to shine upon her.

She would. Wouldn't she?

He remembered her soft—albeit cool—skin on his face, and how she'd taken pride in keeping tabs on him. He recalled how she'd trusted him enough to make choices, her confidence in him, and her support.

Percy could see again.

The darkness that had been encapsulating him, tunneling his vision, making him see nothing but deep black, was suddenly pulled back, like a bag being yanked off his eyes.

Hylla was holding her head with both hands, fingers clawed deep against her scalp, pushing past her wet hair. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, firmly rooted to the spot just in front of where she kneeled. Under her breath, a torrent of soft murmurs pressed out like some kind of mantra.

Rain poured down in sheets now. The clouds had darkened.

"Oh-ho! Quite resilient, good sir!" Orpheus shouted over the noise of water pounding the pavement. "I must admit my admiration for someone with your level of mental strength. Sometimes, I might even say, I would be envious, for you do not seem the type to fall into despair like I once did. Nay, no, and not even for a second did I expect for someone to resist the direct influence of my music!"

Percy drew his knife. He called out, "You talk too much!"

Orpheus bellowed with laughter. "That I do! After all, what good is a mute poet? Or a deaf musician? Or a blind painter? Artistry requires dedication and a good sense of worth. Cripples, defuncts, and invalids lack the heart and pride to create something worthy of gods! Bah! Even then—even with a completely able-bodied person—there is nothing worth my time in this era! I will bring a revolution with me. I will bring the gods to heel once again! None will escape the sound of my music. The symphony of an entirely new generation!"

The hero pointed down at Percy. "Observe the culmination of thousands of years of perfecting my artistry after death! See what death can do to a man, and how it can push him to greater heights! Listen! Tremble! I am Orpheus, and though you may slay me, I will never die. Not again. My mark will linger forever, through the ages, until you yourself turn to dust and a new progeny comes forth to bear their own!"

Glancing at the trees around them, Percy took hold of them, bleeding his authority into their bodies. He pushed beyond the bark, into the cambium and sapwood, where so much growth happened.

Branches became long and straight, and hardened until they were lances that promised to skewer Orpheus where he stood.

The man, for all his confidence and eccentricity, stared at the happenings. "Now that is a surprise! Who are you, to control this lovely greenery in such a crude, unapologetic manner? A spawn of the fair cultivator and sower, her ladyship Demeter, perhaps? Yes, that must be it! For a child of Demeter, even this, though? Ah, I must say, this is nothing short of making me green with envy. Such discipline. Such control. Alas, all I can do is… play."

Orpheus ran his fingers along the harp, each string resonating with a soulful echo.

Percy's eyes widened when the lances he'd created bent, cracked, and turned so that all of them aimed at his center of mass.

WHAT?! His hands rose, and the branches again twisted to point toward Orpheus.

Fingers anxious to twitch and release the lances, Percy felt something wash over his control of the trees. Music. A soothing, melodious instrumental piece that almost made him close his eyes and take a nap.

Struggling with the grogginess in his system, he managed to wave his hand, signaling the branches to fire. With that, Orpheus was skewered by a dozen wooden spears.

Is what should have happened! Percy ground his teeth together when the trees didn't respond to his gesture. Why does this always happen to me? Classical music… how did he know my weakness?!

"That was a very frightening position you put me in, good sir! Usually, nature is my ally in these situations, you see. So to have it turn on me so quickly because of your abilities makes me wary. But I should do well to warn you, I've a knack for soothing everything. Maidens, soldiers, ghosts, and even gods. These things, which have the soul to resist my songs, are much more difficult to deal with than the inanimate." Orpheus kept strumming, fingers weaving patterns on the strings, complex and impossible to track.

"Yeah, well I'm not a maiden, soldier, ghost, or god," Percy narrowed his eyes. "I'm just a kid from Manhattan who happens to be the reigning Galaga champ down at my local arcade. Wanna settle things that way? A friendly game of Pac-Man? First to get eaten by Blinky surrenders?"

"Pac-Man?" Orpheus didn't stop playing his harp.

"Sure! It's got a great theme song. Very tinny."

The man hesitated, and Percy pointed at the closest tree behind the reservoir.

"Rana!"

She burst onto the scene from a young ash tree, arm already extending out like a claw-grabber, her wooden fingers slicing through the air and rain as they reached for Orpheus atop the cone.

"And does the wood ever break?" Orpheus plucked two strings quickly. Rana's hand shattered. "But of course it does. Wood is but one, while my song is many!"

Percy gritted his teeth and launched himself forward. Water nearly blinded him as he raced up the side of the trough. His shoes, which didn't have much traction, slipped on the wet stone, and he fell into the waterway, rolling through the deluge until he managed to sloppily push himself back to his feet, still on the move.

Orpheus grinned and shouted, "YIELD!" His voice scratched the air.

Rain droplets exploded from the sound, making a fine mist from the smaller water particles. The trees bent away from the noise. Even the grass shriveled under his powerful word.

For a second, as the syllable wormed into his ear, Percy slowed down. A sharp pain came from each of his legs as he forced them to move against Orpheus' command.

His feet dragged through the waterway's torrent, the cloth of his pants clinging desperately to his legs, ready to pull him back down the slope if he stopped pushing his muscles forward for even a second.

Then, in the next moment, a sword whistled its way past the left side of his head.

Orpheus didn't dodge fast enough. The blade buried itself in his thigh, all the way to the hilt. The man screamed and toppled from the top of the conical structure, landing hard on the trough as he struggled to stand.

Percy glanced back. Hylla was still kneeling, most of her weight pressing against the small pool wall next to her. Through ragged pants and heaving shoulders, she looked at Percy, then flicked her eyes to Orpheus. Her message was clear as day.

Nodding, Percy forced himself up the waterway. He raised his dagger, aiming to drive it into Orpheus' neck.

But Orpheus didn't cooperate. Sitting back, he yanked Hylla's cutlass out of his leg.

Percy was close now. Too close. They were separated by maybe just a foot. A few inches more and Percy could bend forward to deliver a solid stab.

Orpheus shouted, "YIELD!"

Percy's body slowed down involuntarily. Orpheus used the minute change to swiped the sword across Percy's leg, gouging deep into the area a bit above his kneecap.

The agony had the decency to wait for a second before it set in. When it did, however, Percy figured it was the single worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. It burned like nothing else, as if a portal straight to Hell had been opened inside his thigh. He just barely managed to stifle the scream, making it into a gurgled groan.

Unfortunately, his right leg buckled as blood generously spurted from the gash. He twisted while he fell, driving his shoulder into Orpheus' nose. They both slammed into the cone's slanted wall-face; Orpheus with the back of his head, and Percy with his side.

A few seconds passed where Percy couldn't move. His entire system refused to do anything but focused on that singular torment in his leg. Water poured down on them from the cone's edge, a cold shock in contrast to the flaming agony.

When he felt Orpheus start to pull away, Percy lashed out. His eyes locked on the cutlass, and he went for it.

Orpheus made some kind of noise as he wrestled for the weapon. Percy tried stabbing him with the knife, but Orpheus was strong for a dead musician. His wrist was being held in place by the man, and the knife hovered over empty air, useless even if he dropped it.

Percy felt his perception narrow. His body was heavy. His vision dimmed.

Thunder roared in the distance.

Water kept coming down on them, harder and harder until each raindrop felt like marbles being thrown.

Blood was running down into the waterway.

His right leg burned and stung and just couldn't support him anymore as he wrestled with Orpheus.

But still, his teeth could grind, and his arms felt a little lighter than normal, which meant he wasn't dead yet, for whatever reason, and so he could keep fighting—even if dying probably would have been easier and less painful.

He couldn't die, though.

His promises wouldn't keep themselves, after all.

Chiron and Nico would never forgive him.

Never forgive me.

And word would spread.

Like wildfire.

And then nobody would find it in themselves to accept him. He wouldn't be able to call himself a friend to anybody if he couldn't keep a couple of lousy promises.

They would never like me.

And so he would still be…

And I would still be…

"YIELD!"

The momentary lapse in Percy's muscles gave Orpheus another opportunity to turn the tide. They rolled over each other, the cutlass clattering out of the trough.

Percy brought his knee between them and pushed the man back. He managed to stand despite the injury to his leg, putting most of his weight elsewhere.

Orpheus slapped his hand through the trough, splashing water into Percy's eyes.

Diving over the pool wall's rise, Orpheus took his harp and strummed two quick notes. "Choke."

Behind him, Percy heard a strangled gasp. He glanced back. Hylla had fallen to the ground.

"Can you not hear my music? Interesting indeed!" Orpheus played two more notes. "Crack!"

The stone beneath them splintered. More mist came as the rain exploded. The pool water rippled.

Percy felt his body stutter, as if he'd just had some particularly lousy stir-fry and his organs tried to reboot from it. He threw his knife. The blade embedded itself into Orpheus' shoulder, just an inch above his clavicle.

"Apparently it is so." A string of staccato syllables followed. "But. You. Still. Have. No. Way. To. Find. A. Win!"

That seemed true. Percy hobbled back, trying to put as little burden on his wounded leg as he could. It hurt like crazy. He couldn't even try to open his mouth without fighting the unrepentant urge to throw up. He could only see what was in front of him. Everything in his periphery vision had dimmed to look like gloomy blobs.

There were two things he could figure to do.

Either bulk up his authority to the absolute limit or grab Hylla and get out.

While he would have preferred going with the first option, doing so meant taking everything back from his daughter. Considering it would be the first time he ever did so, he wasn't sure what would happen to Rana. On the one hand, she could just be reduced to being part of him again, waiting until he released more of his authority back into her. On the other hand, she might disappear and cease to exist altogether.

If that happened, could he make her again? Moreover, did he want to?

The first time had been a fluke. Or rather, it had been luck in that he hadn't died immediately following her creation.

And there was no way he could go through that again. He had promises to keep, now. He couldn't risk dying on a whim like that. Back then he'd been less concerned with his own life. Now, it was a little different.

There was also another reason taking back his authority here and now would be a terrible idea: the pain.

His body was in bad shape. He would break under that kind of duress.

So the only option was to run, then. Cowardly? He figured it probably was, but better that than dying against Squeeze-A-Song Elmo's mortal enemy.

Then nature has to be mine. Nature has always been mine. This guy won't take it from me!

Percy reached out to the vegetation surrounding him again. This time, he grabbed hold tight—so tight his grip may as well have been made of iron. His fingers clenched like vices. The trees tried to stay out of the reach of his influence, in the calm place that Orpheus had promised them with his music, but were unable to resist the pull when Percy really put his back into it.

Soon, the park was his.

He'd have asked Zoë if what he was about to do would be okay by her if she'd been around. But he reasoned she wouldn't even have to know. And given the situation, he was totally justified. He couldn't die. He was fighting for other people now, too.

Yeah, he was undoubtedly justified then.

Fingers twitching, a long hunk of wood from the closest tree was tossed his way. Percy caught the makeshift walking stick, using it to hold up the weight from his right leg.

With that, he lifted his left leg and brought his heel down to tap on the ground twice.

And the park exploded.

The grass went crazy. Twisted blobs of meaty wood blasted through the concrete, spiraling into the sky like huge stakes. New trees warped and bloomed with crunchy brown leaves, ripping through the reflecting pool and sending water splashing down all around them, adding to the rain. Chunks of stone fell like small meteorites.

Percy turned quickly and hobbled over to Hylla. The noise of creaking wood and sundering earth mostly drowned out Orpheus' shouting.

"We have to go." Percy grabbed Hylla's arm and hauled her with him. She was hardly able to walk but managed to stay upright as they zigzagged through the growing forest.

Hylla glanced at him as he supported her. "What… what's happening?"

"Oh, y'know," Percy huffed, suppressing a grimace as he moved his right leg. "Stayin' alive. I mean, couldn't you tell by the way I use my walk?"

She groaned and put a hand to her temple. "Are you a woman's man?"

"No time to talk," he nodded.

"Good, then shut up and move."

"Are you always this grateful to your savior? I'm expecting a kiss, by the way, for being your knight in shining armor."

"I didn't ask you for a kiss after saving your bacon from the sorceress."

Percy gritted his teeth and smiled thinly through the pain. "Your loss."

Once they'd escaped the forest, well on their way down the sidewalk away from the gaping mortals, he glanced back. Thankfully, this time, he'd managed to keep from destroying more than a city block. Using his power without Pan's wild energy was certainly less potent, even with him commanding the same authority.

In this case, though, he didn't mind. If Pan's godly power had been Percy's to borrow, more than just Cal Anderson Park would've been ruined. Everything around them would have been affected too. Homes, churches, the community college, businesses; Percy was glad it hadn't come to that.

"Are we clear?" Hylla asked, pushing off his body to stand with her own power. She wobbled a little but otherwise kept herself upright.

"I hope so," Percy leaned on his walking stick after they rounded a corner. The rain had let up, diminishing to a pleasant drizzle.

"What's with the cane?"

"It's a walking stick."

Hylla raised her eyebrow. "Mhm… so what's with the cane?"

"If you would use your eyes, Hylla-dear, you might see that I have received a wound. Woe is me."

She glanced down at his leg. "That's a lot of damage."

Percy nodded. "You're telling me. I think I'm gonna pass out. Blood loss and all that jazz." He got a bit closer to her and opened his arms as if he were ready to hug her. With a faint smile, he asked, "Trust fall?"

Hylla's eyes widened. "Huh? No-no-no, w-wait!"

But he didn't, his lightheadedness finally closing in, and so he dropped into her outstretched arms.

A/N: Hello dear readers, I have brought this new offering.

Review Response-

Guest 1 'Seattle Native': I'm glad you think so! I'm not from the city myself, but since I grew up in Washington, I've been to Seattle more than a few times.

Guest 2: Thanks!

Malosi06: Sorry for making you wait for so long! But between school, work, friends, hobbies, and writing, its been a balancing act. I decided to buff Circe a bit, since she's supposed to be the best sorceress around as well as being a goddess. Anyway, thanks for your thoughts and feedback, it's good to hear from you as always!