Chapter Text
Petra tapped her foot nervously on the tiled floors of the airport, glancing around the crowds of people in hopes of seeing her mother. She cursed her just-barely taller than average height. In camp, when many of the people around her were children younger than her, it was easy to get used to being able to see anything when she needed to. Outside of it, Petra was horribly reminded that, actually, she wasn’t that tall, and getting crushed in a crowd was a horrifically easy thing to happen to her.
She also cursed her lack of a phone. Camp had strict restrictions on technology, but it would’ve been nice to at least be able to contact Callie. Callie had said she would be holding a sign for her, but given the fact that Petra was taller than her mother…
She squinted in the distance, spotting a woman who looked like an aged up version of her reflection holding up a sign, standing next to a taller woman dressed fashionably for the cold.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to find her after all.
“Mom!” Petra called out, pushing her way through the crowds. People gave her dirty looks, but after some time in New York, Petra wasn’t bothered by them. Callie’s head jerked upward from where she had been talking to the other woman, meeting Petra’s eyes at the sound of her voice. Her face lit up, and while she still held tightly to her sign, she ran toward Petra before capturing her in a hug.
Petra hugged her back, grateful to be with her mother again after the last few weeks she’d had.
“Oh, Pet!” Callie separated herself from Petra, cradling a cheek with her free hand. “I’ve missed you, baby. How was your flight? Was it fine?”
“It was perfectly boring,” Petra reassured with a smile. “No stray lightning bolts aimed my way.”
Callie made a noise of distress. “Don’t even joke like that!” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Not when it’s probable now.”
Petra couldn’t help her loud laughter, hugging her mother again and rocking side to side. “I’ve missed you, Mom.”
She glanced behind her mother to the woman who had stood with her, smiling at her even as she felt nervous butterflies erupt in her stomach. The woman was dressed in a peacoat with a pattern similar to Petra's new one, which she could appreciate for its style. The rest of her clothes were classy and covered every other piece of skin, which Petra thought looked like an odd blend of modern mixed with 1950s fashion, especially with the sleek scarf she had.
The woman herself was very beautiful, with dark skin the color of chestnuts and delicate features that reminded Petra of a nymph. Her hair was parted, and reached her shoulders in kinky curls. She wore a warm smile that crinkled her upturned eyes, and waved at Petra when she noticed her staring.
Before she had left camp, Petra had called Callie using the camp phone about the details of her flight. Callie had bought her ticket, of course, and said that they would spend some time together before she wanted Petra to meet Trinity. Petra, for some odd reason, had blurted out that it was fine if both Callie and Trinity picked her up together. Callie had been skeptical, asking if it was truly what she wanted.
And Petra couldn’t just back out after that. She’d reaffirmed her decision.
She couldn't regret it too much considering Callie had looked overjoyed, but… she still regretted some of it.
When the mother-daughter pair separated, Callie somehow looked even more nervous than Petra. She led her over to Trinity, eyes darting quickly between them. “Trinity,” she started, “this is Petra, my daughter. Pet, baby, this is Trinity. My girlfriend.”
Trinity held her gloved hand out first, and when Petra shook it, she found her grip was strong. “It’s very nice to meet you,” Trinity said, her voice as smooth as butter. “Your mom’s told me a lot about you.”
Petra smiled back at her, trying to hide her confusion. Was Trinity’s first instinct when meeting teens to… shake their hand? How odd. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Um…”
To say something along the lines of ‘My mother actually only mentioned you to me a grand total of three times, with the first two times exposing your existence, and the last one just being confirmation that I didn’t have to see you at all when I came home,’ seemed somewhat rude. Unfortunately, Petra was stuck on what to say to Trinity at all.
Floundering, all Petra could get out was, “Yeah…”
She closed her eyes briefly, pained. Good job, her. Callie, similarly, grimaced.
Trinity, thankfully, chortled good naturedly. “I look forward to getting to know you better. Don’t worry, though, Callie’s had nothing but good things to say about you.”
“Thank goodness.”
Petra eyed Callie in a subtle call for help as the conversation drifted again. She was met with an indulgent smile as Callie smoothly picked up Petra’s items and began to lead them to the outside of the airport, and Petra nearly swayed with relief.
Somehow, that was worse than all the other times Petra’d had to speak with her mother’s partners. Who knew trying her best to be on good behavior would make her so awkward?
…
Petra sighed as she put her stuff down in the corner of her room before throwing herself flat on her bed. She groaned at the feeling of her own sheets against her—lilac patterned, soft, fluffy, the whole works. The bed she had at camp was comfortable, don’t get her wrong, but nothing really beat the bed she had at home.
It was also a full bed compared to a twin, so.
Petra inhaled deeply, delighting in the soft smell of her bed that usually indicated a fresh wash, before she turned on her back, staring at the ceiling. It was nice to be home, definitely, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty about being so. She had somewhat left Chris bereft of help after leaving, and though she knew Callie would never allow her to stay in camp longer than necessary, she knew she could’ve helped Chris out more had she been a year-round camper.
In the days before Petra left Camp Half-Blood, she had spent much of her time trying to unravel the mystery that lay behind Chris’s Madness. She would visit Chris every day, Clarisse loyally at his side and Chiron watching with wary eyes, as Petra tried repeatedly to draw the evil influence from Chris’s mind. Every time she did, she managed to free Chris from the influence’s clutches, but without fail, he would fall back under the Madness again.
In truth, the whole situation made Petra feel nauseous like nothing else did. Watching Chris have the relief of sanity for only a few moments before having it get cruelly taken away from him… it was difficult. The amount of time he was sane increased with each visit Petra made, but he also seemed to remember his time spent in Madness, and his inevitable relapse seemed to worsen with each attempt.
Sometimes, Petra wanted nothing more than to quit in her attempts to heal him and wait for Mr. D to come back to camp to heal Chris fully. Chris’s desperation to remain sane, Clarisse’s despair over his condition, and Chiron’s slowly aging form over time drained Petra more than using her magic did. She knew that, had he been there, her father could have fixed everything in an instant, and free everyone from the horrible cycle of watching Chris be tormented by his own mind.
But he wasn’t. And so, her help was necessary. Chris had crucial information on Luke’s army, and his experience in the Labyrinth, while likely not much, was better than nothing. The sooner Petra learned how to completely rid Chris of his Madness, the sooner his suffering would end.
If only she actually knew how to do that, she thought bitterly. It wasn’t as if Mr. D had been keen to teach Petra how to wield mental magic. Unfortunately, it was a brand of magic much easier to use in a destructive manner than one of healing, and it often felt as though Petra was told to go through a cave blind, deaf, and crippled every time she tried to learn how her own magic worked.
She sighed. Wielding the elements seemed so much easier in comparison, not to mention more useful. Her magic was so conditional…
Petra rolled off her bed to unpack her bags, her thoughts continuing in their pessimistic trudge. As she began to put her clothes back in her closet, Petra paused as she hung up her Camp Half-Blood shirt.
She’d tried so hard for years to avoid everything she could remember from the Percy Jackson books. She’d hadn’t made herself scarce when it came to being near Percy, but she sure didn’t go out of her way to befriend him, either. She’d learned how to fight, but it was out of necessity of living the life of a demigod, not so she could go on quests from the gods. She’d kept her head down; always staying quiet in the solstice meetings where she would visit Olympus, never causing trouble with any mythological beings, staying in her lane.
And where did it get her? Nowhere but stuck in the attention of some of history’s most fickle gods, the events of the story she had tried to avoid pressing in on her on all sides.
She’d known, in the background of her mind, that the plot she read about would affect her eventually. War had forever been looming in the future, and she wouldn’t be spared from it just because she didn’t want to fight. She didn’t even really want to run away from it, not if she could protect her brothers and friends to the best of her ability.
Still, somehow… Petra had thought that the worst of the future she knew would simply glance around her. Grasping and clawing at her, sure, but far enough away that Petra could at least pretend at a normal life in the meanwhile.
As hard as it was seeing Chris in his madness-stricken state, it wasn’t as though leaving with Percy had led her to healing Chris. If anything, it would have pushed back her involvement, what with her being away from camp when Chiron would have been able to use her skills.
She had tried to run from it, but Petra lived in this odd world. That wasn’t a fact that could be changed. She was a demigod, one that could be of worth in the nebulous future that overhung the world. There was no running away—not if she wanted to label herself a coward and keep herself safe while ignoring the suffering of those she cared for.
Yet, wasn’t that what she had already done? She’d known Luke would turn to Kronos, yet relied on him to understand her own emotional turmoil with the gods, most likely only encouraging his own mindset. She’d known Chris Rodriguez would follow in Luke’s path, and had done nothing to help him.
She’d known Bianca would die in that desert. She’d stepped back, closed her eyes, and told herself there was nothing she could do. Bianca had died, only twelve years old, and Petra had refused to even sway her chances at life.
Then, Zoë-
Petra choked, biting her lip as her eyes began to sting. She hurriedly packed away her Camp Half-Blood shirt, tripping over her bags as she rushed to sit back on her bed before her legs grew too weak to support her. She ran a hand harshly down her face, her throat closing up at the terrible reminders of how she’d acted so shamefully during her quest.
What was she, if not already a coward? Someone more willing to save their own skin than try and help others?
Who was she, really?
Suddenly, something fell onto the floor, loud enough that it shocked Petra out of her spiral. She looked up, confused, and saw Ursa, sheathed, laying on the carpet of her room.
She sniffed. It must’ve fallen from its spot in her bags, imbalanced when she had tripped. Forcing herself up, Petra gathered Ursa into her hands, a pang echoing within her.
She hadn’t asked the Hephaestus cabin to remake Cygnus in her time back at camp. For some reason, she didn’t want to. Cygnus had fallen in her battle against Atlas, and it felt like a betrayal of her blade to make a replacement of it after she had lost it in such a dangerous fight. It had been her own weakness that led to its loss.
Seeing Ursa, however, felt lonely. Her dagger was never meant to be alone. It had been made to be half of a pair, and only having Ursa made Petra feel half exposed, like she was running around in battle with only her legs covered in armor
She needed another blade to match Ursa. But making another Cygnus wouldn’t be the answer.
Regardless, Petra thought tiredly as she stuffed Ursa in her drawer next to her bed, that was an issue for another day. All traces of her time in camp had to be carefully hidden away with Trinity now in the house. She didn’t live with Petra and Callie, but Petra knew Trinity had an open invitation to come over. Petra didn’t mind it; she would be in school for most of the day, and Callie was usually pretty laidback when it came to Petra leaving the apartment to visit whatever few mortal friends she had so long as she came back at a certain time.
Her room was enough of a safe area for all her mementos from camp, but no longer could Petra leave anything outside of it. It was a nasty habit she had, especially when she carried Ursa and Cygnus around outside of her home in case of any monsters, then left them around the apartment in her laziness at home. Thankfully, whenever she had slipped in front of Callie’s past partners, the Mist had kept all of them from realizing the true shape of her weapons. Callie, however, was much exasperated with her bad habits.
‘I don’t care if you need those things to fight monsters,’ Callie often snipped. ‘I won’t have them laying around in the kitchen or on the floor! It’s unsanitary, for one, and quite possibly the most dangerous tripping hazard known to man.’
Which—fair. Petra had no argument against that.
However, while Petra liked Trinity enough thanks to how happy she made her mother, she would gladly admit that not having a mortal around made her life a lot easier. There were only so many times Petra could talk about her ‘super fun summer camp’ in vague terms, or try to skirt around why she was covered in gold dust and dirt and out of breath after school, before she got tired of avoiding the topic. She would put up with the hassle for Cassie, but it didn’t mean she was very happy to do so.
Petra only had to try and keep her less than mortal activities and items to herself, for however long Trinity stayed around. It couldn’t be that hard. She’d done it before with past boyfriends. Not even her friends at school suspected her of being anything less than normal, and she spent much more time with them than she ever would with Trinity.
What could go wrong?
Trying to sneakily enter your own apartment at night really was a tougher endeavor than necessary. When Petra’s key fumbled against the keyhole of the door, scratching at the metal with a terrible shriek, she closed her eyes against the threat of frustrated tears.
There went her fabulous start.
To be fair, it wasn’t exactly her fault she arrived home late. The latest Petra had previously been out was at eight pm, and that was after a movie night with friends. So long as she texted Callie her whereabouts and the time she would be home—and stuck with it—she was good to stay out as she wished. Petra wasn’t one to be out for long, anyway, so it perfectly fit their dynamic.
However, when she’d been walking back home, literally on the verge of opening the complex building doors, she’d spotted a dark shape from the corner of her eye. When she’d looked over, she noticed the tail end of a lion, with large wings attached to its body, slinking away into the forest. From what Petra had caught in the darkness, it had carried something limp in its front claws, but the monster had disappeared before she could see any more of it.
Petra’s eye had twitched in annoyance. Gryphons weren’t a rare occurrence where she lived; Colorado had the perfect elevation for them to thrive, and large forests for them to create their nests. They were a nuisance when they decided to strike close to the town, but they typically kept to themselves, content with the abundance of prey to be found in the mountains.
Tilting her head back, Petra thought carefully on what she wanted to do. If the gryphon had come near enough to the town to kill someone, that was obviously a horrible thing, and she needed to hunt it down to discourage any more of that kind of activity. It was something she had done many times before, and most of the gryphons in the area knew well enough to stay away from the town because of it. However, there was just as good a chance that the gryphon had been curious about the surrounding area, and had either gone dumpster diving, or snatched one of the strays from the street.
It had happened before, and it would happen again. It was still a habit Petra needed to curb—coming so close to the mortals was something she couldn’t allow, especially when it only heightened the risk of an event between monsters and humans—but it was something she could deal with at a later time. Namely, when she wasn’t exhausted and ready to prepare for bed.
But, on the off chance it was after a human…
With a groan, Petra fished her phone out of her pockets and began to walk in the direction the gryphon had left in. She needed to make sure no one was hurt, and in the event that the gryphon had already caused some damage in the community, destroying it would send a good enough message to the rest of the monsters that picking on the mortals around the town would continue to not be tolerated.
She sent Callie a text notifying her about the situation. While it was usually a bad idea to use technology of any kind to communicate, as doing so would only broadcast her location to any monsters around, Petra knew that if she moved fast enough, most monsters would be unable to follow her scent. She set off in a jog to the forest, pocketing her phone after receiving a ‘Stay safe!’ text back from Callie, and followed the tracks the gryphon had made in the snow laid on the ground.
Luckily for her, it hadn’t decided to fly off with its capture. Unluckily for her, that typically meant that the gryphon’s nest was close enough that it didn’t want to waste its energy. Which meant that the gryphons had gotten comfortable during her month-long stay in camp. Ugh.
After a bit of walking, trying her best to avoid any loud foliage that could reveal her presence to the gryphon, and balancing her steps carefully on the snow, Petra stumbled upon its nest. She spotted both the gryphon and its prey: a cat. The cat was fat, unlike the rest of the strays in the streets, and was probably a pet that had been allowed by its owner to stroll outside. It would have made easy prey, and Petra could understand why the gryphon had gone after it.
But, just because the Fates hated her, the gryphon wasn’t the only thing she saw. No, it was joined by another gryphon of the same size, with minute differences in coloring, that sat in the nest. The two gryphons nuzzled each other's beaks, and Petra caught a glimpse of eggshells underneath the sitting gryphon.
Of course she stumbled upon a new family. Why wouldn't she? It wasn’t as if she had other things she had wanted to do or anything.
Ducking into the foliage, Petra considered her choices. Two gryphons, new parents, would not be an easy battle to win. She would, Petra was confident in that fact, but if she could avoid that matchup, she would do so. However, that would mean trying to not only reason with two monsters on staying away from the town, but also potentially moving their nest. Baby gryphons were, as all creatures, very curious, and having them so close to town was an accident waiting to happen.
Still, if it meant avoiding a fight, then Petra would reluctantly try out the diplomacy route.
After patting herself down, relieved at the weight of Ursa strapped to her chest underneath her jacket—the dagger stayed on her constantly, just in case of situations like the one she found herself in—Petra stepped toward the gryphon couple. Her steps were loud in the crunchy snow, and she was instantly met with two piercing golden gazes. She lifted her hands in a peaceful gesture.
The gryphons rumbled threateningly at her. The one holding the cat, marked with darker feathers, dropped its prey. Petra winced as blood dripped out of the cat’s corpse, painting the snow red. After years of fighting off monsters, she was used to the sight of dead animals caught as monster prey, but it didn’t make seeing them any easier.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Petra said, her voice soothingly low. “I just noticed you guys and…”
Well, she couldn't exactly say she debated on killing them. That would ruin her efforts at diplomacy in an instant.
“...wanted to check you guys out?”
The gryphon sitting on the eggs lifted its wings in a threatening gesture. Its feathers were lightly streaked with a brilliant silver.
“I don’t mean to make you guys nervous,” Petra continued to ramble, “but you guys are awfully close to the town. I mean,” she waved a hand to the dead cat, “I get it, believe me. Easy food. But it’s really dangerous to be so close to the mortals.”
While eagles weren’t usually loud animals, more likely to whistle or click than anything else, the lion-half of the gryphons were. A growl rumbled in the area, bouncing off the trees and making Petra’s bones shake.
Thankfully, after years of fighting gryphons, and after her experience with the Nemean Lion, Petra was relatively unaffected.
“So, I was just wondering if you guys would possibly agree to moving your nest? I know it would be a big chore, especially since it’s so cold and you guys have eggs, but-”
The dark gryphon didn’t let her finish her request. It pounced forward, roaring loudly with its claws outstretched. Petra rolled to the side, quickly zipping open her jacket and unsheathing Ursa. While it typically was her left-handed blade, Petra was right-handed, so it took the place of Cygnus.
The gryphon turned quickly after its miss, keeping its wings close to its body as it lunged for Petra again. This time, she jumped backward, and when the gryphon’s claws just barely missed her, she took the opportunity to stab securely at one of the gryphon’s paws, Ursa going through its paw and grounding it to the snowy terrain. The gryphon roared in pain, striking out with its other paw, but Petra ducked beneath its blow.
She cursed. Having a second blade to pin it down would have been really handy. Instead, the gryphon used the opportunity to wrench its paw from Petra’s blade, leaving the paw a mangled mess of dust as it jumped back towards its nest, flapping its wings to stabilize itself.
Petra could have taken the opportunity to strike at its chest, thoroughly ending the battle there, but she hadn't. Despite herself, she felt sympathy for the gryphons. They were new parents, judging from their smaller size, and had only made the mistake of claiming territory too close to a mortal town. They were only following their instincts, and Petra wasn’t in enough danger to kill them for it.
However, if they dragged out the battle, she would be forced to, anyway.
“I don’t want to fight,” Petra warned. “I really do want to help you guys. But, if you keep going against me, I’ll have no choice but to deal with you both.”
The attacking gryphon analyzed her for a bit before turning its head to its mate. The sitting gryphon garbled something, burrowing deeper into the nest, and the darker gryphon faced Petra once more.
Unfortunately, whatever the sitting gryphon had said, it wasn’t an agreement to Petra’s words. The dark gryphon bunched its muscles underneath itself, fur rippling with the movement, and Petra braced herself. Right before the gryphon pounced, Petra was struck with a brilliant idea.
Ever since her battle with Atlas, Petra had shied away from her powers of chlorokinesis. Half of it was circumstantial—she couldn't exactly practice her magic after being drained from helping Chris—while the other half was due to sheer wariness of her powers. She’d never been able to control plants as well as her brothers, and her display of power out of sheer desperation made her nervous.
She’d gone past her limits, and it had backfired immensely. Had she not been fighting within a group, she would’ve been struck down without mercy.
Now that some time had passed, however, Petra had found herself curious about her new capabilities. She’d wondered if what she had done could be replicated when she wasn’t fearing for the life of her friends. And, well, what better way to test it out than in the heat of battle?
And, if it didn’t work out, she always had Ursa.
As the gryphon lunged near her, Petra felt the earth below her. In truth, she was experimenting at a very dangerous time; snow covered most of the greenery, and most of the plants were dormant with the cold season. However, the flora of Colorado were much accustomed to the cold, and they weren’t dead—which was all Petra needed. She flooded the plants right in front of her with magical energy, invigorating them to wake. As they did, she encouraged their rapid growth, and she felt as they coiled underneath the soil, practically vibrating with energy.
Then, the gryphon was right in front of Petra. She raised Ursa in front of her to block its attack, tense with anticipation, but found it unnecessary. The moment the gryphon was above the plants, the vines shot up from the soil, snow exploding in front of Petra and blocking her view. When it all fell, she was met by the sight of the gryphon struggling in a net of vines, throwing dirt and snow around as it roared and wiggled in an attempt to free itself.
Petra couldn't help her yelp of relief. “Oh, gods! It worked!”
She couldn’t celebrate for too long, though. The other gryphon growled threateningly at her from its nest, though it didn’t move. Petra had depended on this—gryphon eggs weren’t unlike eagle eggs when it came to needing to be warmed up at all times to survive—but it didn’t mean she was completely free from fighting it. She pointed Ursa at it in warning.
Warily, still keeping an eye on the other gryphon, she neared the one trapped beneath her vines. It struggled as she came near, but the moment she loomed over it, it stopped. Its eye locked onto hers, and it breathed heavily as it growled out a warning.
“I want to help you,” Petra whispered. “Let me help you.”
The trapped gryphon’s tail whipped around, and it rolled back its head as much as it could to face the other gryphon. With a quiet warble, the two gryphons spoke to each other. Finally, after a few seconds, the trapped gryphon faced Petra again in order to nod.
She sighed with relief, warily releasing the gryphon from her vines in order to back up. The gryphon stood as quickly as it could, shaking off the snow from its body. It stared at her for a tense moment before making a sharp movement with its head, stalking back to its nest.
Petra blinked. Did the gryphon… beckon her?
She shook off her confusion. It was late. She was tired. She needed to help the gryphons out as quickly as possible if she wanted to go to bed at a good time. If the gryphon beckoned her, then by the gods would she follow.
Still on her guard, Petra neared the gryphons’ nest. When the parents didn’t try to attack her, she relaxed the tiniest bit. “So,” she said. “How are we doing this?”
The sitting gryphon proceeded to stand, though it moved backward instead of towards Petra. It shielded the eggs from the cold with its wings, but it still left them free to the air as it stared down Petra. She yelped, almost darting forward before keeping herself still.
She couldn’t just approach new gryphon eggs, but they were wide open! They couldn’t be exposed to the cold for so long!
The silver gryphon’s eyes seemed to twinkle in approval. It nudged an egg toward Petra with its beak, keeping it upright.
It took her a few seconds to understand what the gryphon wanted. When she did, Petra threw her head back with a groan.
Of course the gryphon would give her the hardest task of moving its nest. What else did she expect?
…
Moving two gryphon eggs within her jacket as the parent gryphons moved their nest—keeping a sharp eye on her as they did—was not Petra’s definition of fun. The eggs weren’t particularly small, but she needed to keep them bundled up as much as she could, which meant walking in an awkward hobble, hunched over to keep the eggs warm. It would’ve made her defenseless toward the gryphons if they decided to attack, but her holding the eggs made Petra confident they wouldn’t attempt to attack her.
Still, by the time the gryphons had set up their new nest, appropriately far from Evans, Petra’s back was aching something fierce, and her knees weren’t much better off. She carefully set the eggs down, patting the branches and fluff of the nest to keep them comfortable, and backed away as quickly as she could from the gryphons.
The silver-streaked gryphon immediately took its place on the eggs, and the darker one nuzzled into it tenderly. Petra couldn’t help but internally coo over the sight, even as her body ached from her efforts and the cold.
“You guys aren’t so bad,” she said out loud, to which the gryphons looked over at her. It was true, though. Most monsters would have died before accepting her help, and they weren’t even posturing to make sure she left quickly. By far, they were the nicest gryphons she had ever met.
She was struck by an idea. Generally, it was a bad idea to name monsters. It was like naming stray animals, but worse, as they usually tried to kill you right after you named them.
(Yes, Petra was speaking from experience.)
However, Petra reluctantly found herself attached to the gryphons after who-knew-how-long working with them, and she felt the insane urge to name them. And, well, considering her father was the god of madness, it wouldn’t be too odd for her to indulge in a whim, right?
She nodded to herself before pointing at the dark gryphon. “I’ve decided. You’re Shadow,” she moved her finger to the silver-streaked gryphon, “and you’re Jackie!”
She’d named them after an eagle couple that she had known about in her previous life. She couldn’t help but do it—gryphons, eagles, they really were similar enough if you squinted.
The gryphons stared at her. They obviously didn’t appreciate her genius.
Petra pursed her lips. “Yeah, okay. I’m going now.”
After waving goodbye to the newly named Shadow and Jackie, Petra trudged back to her apartment. The walk back was much quicker than the wobble to the nest, but it still wasn’t very fun to do. She had been outside for at least an hour or two, and was very much looking forward to having a warm shower and a late snack before bed—and she still had to wake up early for school.
Of course, because as Petra mentioned, since the Fates clearly hated her beyond belief, the first thing Petra saw once she arrived back at her apartment complex was a Scythian dracaenae loitering around the area.
It looked like the standard dracaenae, with a female human torso and green twin trunk tails. It wore a thick, pink bubble jacket, and its blonde hair was piled up in a bun at the top of its head. It looked like a monster’s best attempt at a sorority girl, and the disguise was frighteningly accurate from the torso up.
It was sniffing around the apartment complex, right where Petra had texted her mother about being home late, its tails gleaming ominously in the moonlight. Petra’s eye twitched.
The one time she decided to text her mother late at night. The one time. It was as if the universe decided that tonight would be the night where Petra received every bit of karmic punishment she had wracked up throughout the years.
“Hey,” Petra greeted, resigned to another battle. The dracaenae’s head whipped around, and when it caught sight of her, its pupils shrunk into slits, a hiss escaping the dracaenae’s throat. “I thought snakes hated the cold?”
“How insolent,” the dracaenae hissed, literally, dragging out the s-sound. “You are the demigod with the strong scent?”
Rude, Petra thought. She shrugged, stepping near the dracaenae with her hands in her pockets. Any movement towards opening her jacket to reveal Ursa would have the monster on its guard, and she preferred it when her enemies underestimated her. The showy act worked; the dracaenae didn’t tense as Petra slowly came near it.
“Maybe,” she answered. “Probably not strong because I’m strong, though. I just decided to use my phone.” With flourish, Petra took her phone out of her pocket, waving it around for the dracaenae to see. The monster scoffed.
“I cannot believe I’m relegated to this,” it muttered. Petra rose a brow, but the dracaenae didn’t attempt to attack her. Instead it met her eyes steadily.
“Are you loyal to Camp Half-Blood?” it asked, and Petra immediately drew herself up, alarmed.
“What?”
It sneered. “You heard me. You have the bearing of a hero, but it isn’t so uncommon for heroes to be bitter towards their parents anymore. So, are you loyal to Camp Half-Blood or not?”
“That depends,” Petra replied. “Are you working for the Crooked One?”
“Bah!” The dracaenae spat onto the snow. “Crooked One? Crooked? Our Lord does not deserve such a disgrace—he is the most powerful, only the most gracious one!”
Thinking quickly, Petra threw out her hands in a calming gesture. “My bad! Force of habit, I’m sorry. Many people call him that instead of the Lord of Time.”
The dracaenae hissed. “Those are maggots who have not yet been graced with his glory.”
“Very true,” Petra nodded. “So… what, are you finding demigods who might follow the Lord of Time?”
“Bitter ones,” the dracaenae hissed. “Hardened ones. Wronged ones. Any who might see our Lord’s grace.”
“And you think I’m one of them?”
“Are you not?”
Something twisted in Petra’s chest, and she held back the urge to grimace. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more for the entire interaction to end. “No, actually. I don’t think I am.”
“Liar,” the dracaenae laughed. “You smell off. Daughter of Madness, you’ll find your way soon enough.”
Petra reached the end of her rope with the dracaenae—for the entire night, really. She unzipped her jacket and reached for Ursa, lunging at the dracaenae with her blade soundly in hand. The dracaenae hissed and struck back, using its claws to reach for Petra. She dodged its first attack before aiming Ursa right for the middle of the dracaenae’s chest.
The dracaenae weaved to the side, but Petra followed its movements, determined to take it down. They wound up lunging and dodging for the next few moments, both of them remaining untouched to their mutual frustration.
Engraged, Petra yelled out before twisting on her heel, catching the dracaenae on another dodge and tackling it to the pavement. They both rolled over each other, and Petra quickly gathered Ursa in a tight grip and held it over her head to strike. The dracaenae saw this, and before she knew it, Petra felt something hit the side of her face, striking her cheekbone and the entire length of skin between her brow and chin.
She crumpled at the blow, dazed, and snow covered her view for a few seconds as the weight of the dranaenae lifted. When she rose again, the dracaenae was gone, leaving only tracks in the snow behind.
Petra couldn’t gather the will to chase after it. She was humiliated after losing a fight in such a bad way (seriously, she would need to start taking hand-to-hand classes if she was going to get hit in the head so many times), cold after walking around for hours and her jacket now being drenched from the snow, and absolutely exhausted. If she had to chase down another monster, Petra would honestly throw down Ursa and cry.
All of this led her to her predicament: trying to sneak into her own apartment. Petra sagged against the door with a sigh before unlocking it, and she stumbled into the apartment wearily. She didn’t bother turning on any lights as she went, just tracing her steps by memory. It proved to be a mistake, as the next moment she knew, she ran into a body leaving her mother’s room, which was stationed a bit before her own in the apartment.
“Oof!”
Petra stumbled back, the other person raising their arm to search the walls for a light switch.
“Sorry, Mom!” Petra blurted out. “I know I’m late, but—oh,” she trailed off as the light switch was found and subsequently flicked, realizing that the person she ran into was not Callie.
Trinity blinked at her. “Petra?” She was wearing pajamas, which Petra had never seen her do before, used to only seeing her in high quality, fashionable clothes. That, combined with the fact that she was leaving Callie’s room…
Trinity choked when Petra’s face unwillingly shaped itself into a grimace. “Oh. No, no, no, no—it’s not—we didn’t-“
“I don’t need to know.”
“Things ran late-“
“Please,” Petra begged. “Stop.”
“I—yeah…” Trinity shook her head. “But, Petra, are you alright? You’re drenched!”
Petra glanced down at herself, wilting when she noticed how much of a mess she looked. All her clothes were wet from melting snow, and her jeans were dirtied up with soil and bits of flora that she realized had come from Shadow and Jackie’s nest. Her jacket was bunched up oddly from Ursa being strapped onto her chest, and was even filthier than her pants. And to say nothing about how tangled her hair was fighting two battles in one day—Petra was only glad she didn’t have to see how her face was messed up as well.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? What happened to you?”
Petra met Trinity’s gaze evenly. “Snowball fight.”
Trinity gave her a disbelieving look, her jaw agape. “A snowball fight.”
“It was really intense.”
“…you don’t say?”
Petra nodded. “It was with the neighborhood kids.”
“At… eleven-thirty at night? On a Tuesday?”
“Yep.”
Trinity continued to stare at her in disbelief, and all Petra could do was cross her fingers that Trinity, who was remarkably polite and courteous when she didn’t need to be, would refrain from trying to question Petra in her mother’s place. As the seconds passed, strained, Petra began to shake in a combination of nerves and chill.
Trinity managed to notice. She shook her head. “Alright, I suppose. You should get dressed in some warm clothes—I doubt you’re comfortable like that. At least tell your mother about your… snowball fight in the morning.”
Relieved, Petra nodded quickly before rushing toward her room, throwing a quick “Goodnight!” back at Trinity before she shut her door and collapsed on her floor.
What a mess of a night!
She wiped at her face tiredly, groaning when her fingers came back full of dirt. What a terrible excuse, snowball fight. Trinity probably thought that Petra thought her an idiot in order to say such a stupid thing. She would probably think her a troublemaker now, and who knew what she would say to Callie.
Petra could explain the whole thing to her mother, of course, but she didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize her mother’s new relationship in case Callie felt she had to defend her. Petra had only been home for a month. Screwing something up in so little time…
The whole night itself had been one disaster after another. She’d helped Shadow and Jackie, but who knew if that was the correct decision to make? They could just as easily decide to hunt from Evans anyway, simply flying back to their nest to cover any tracks of hunting. Their chicks could also prove a problem in the future, but Petra could lump that problem in with the growing gryphon population near her town.
Only time would prove if her decision was the right one.
Her biggest screw up was undoubtedly dealing with that dracaenae, however. Petra wrinkled her nose; she was getting tired of just calling the monster ‘the dracaenae.’
Bubblegum, she decided to call it—her? Dracaenae tended to be all female.
Bubblegum the sorority sister, who made Petra’s night hell.
She snorted at the thought. Then, as she took stock of herself, she held back the urge to melt into the ground.
She still had to shower, and most likely wake up extra early to figure out how to cover up the massive bruise on her face because she had school in the morning. Because of course.