The infirmary smelled of antiseptic and burn salve. It was a smell I'd come to know better than my own name. Weeks had bled into one another, a monotonous cycle of feverish sleep, the gentle ministrations of nymphs, and the constant, gnawing agony of a body that was trying, and failing, to put itself back together.
My skin wasn't skin anymore, but a patchwork of raw nerve endings, charred leather, and angry red welts where new flesh stubbornly tried to grow. The nymphs changed the bandages twice a day, and each time was a fresh hell. I couldn't move without a searing protest from every inch of my frame.
"I had to hold you together" Manny's voice echoed in my mind, quieter now, almost tired. "From the moment the wave hit until you hit that chair. A magical splint. But the splint is off now, and your body is remembering it's broken."
A soft footstep on the linoleum floor pulled me from my stupor. Annabeth. She held a tablet in one hand and a stylus in the other, her expression a mask of clinical curiosity. She'd been here every few days, always with more questions.
"Let's go over it again," she said, her voice crisp. No preamble, no "how are you feeling." Just business.
I braced myself. "Let me do the talking," Manny advised. "Just nod."
"The plane," she began, tapping her stylus. "You said a bird attacked it. What kind of bird?"
"A big one," Manny supplied.
I forced the words out, my throat dry. "Big. Feathers... like metal. It tore the engine off."
"And you were the only survivor?" Her grey eyes were pinning me down, searching for the flicker of a lie.
"Yes."
"Yes," I rasped.
She made a note on her tablet. "Right. And the tsunami. You said Poseidon might have helped."
"You were confused. Scared. You thought you saw a trident."
"I... I don't know. It was chaos. The water just... lifted me. I thought I saw something, but I was passing out."
Annabeth's stylus stopped tapping. She looked up, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. "Okay. Let's get to the real problem. The one that doesn't add up." She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "You're a demigod. Why were you on a plane? In the sky? It's a beacon. Every monster within a hundred miles would have been drawn to it. It's an unspoken rule we don't fly."
This was it. The hole in the story. The one I couldn't bluff my way through. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
"She's got you," Manny muttered, a rare note of panic in his voice. "Okay... okay, new angle. Play dumb. Not just 'I don't know' dumb, but 'clueless mortal' dumb."
I swallowed hard, my mouth tasting of copper and medicine.
"I... I didn't know," I whispered, letting my voice tremble with genuine fear. "I'd never flown before. It was my first time. My... my mom got me the ticket." I threw in the detail about my mom, a little emotional bait.
Annabeth stared at me. Her expression didn't soften, but the intense, prosecutorial glare faltered, replaced by a deep, frustrated confusion.
She leaned back, tapping her stylus against the tablet with a soft, rhythmic click. "Your first time," she repeated, as if testing the words. "Fine." She stood up, her movements sharp and decisive. "Get some rest." She left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her.
"That's interesting."
What? I thought, my mind still reeling from the interrogation.
"The Jackson boy," Manny said. "He didn't come with her today. On the last few visits, he was always there, leaning against the doorframe, looking at you like you were a puzzle he couldn't solve. Today... nothing."
I hadn't even noticed. I'd been too focused on Annabeth's relentless questioning.
"I figured he'd at least make a joke," Manny continued, a hint of confusion in his mental voice. "'Welcome to the dysfunctional family' or something equally trite. A new brother for the son of the sea god? That's prime material for a sarcastic comment. It's what he does."
Manny paused, and I could feel the gears turning in his mind. "But he's silent. Your wise girl is good. She's been whispering in his ear, telling him how none of this adds up. The age, the plane crash, the convenient claim after the fact... He's not just confused anymore. He's suspicious. He doesn't trust you. And that's a problem."
When she finally left, the silence rushed back in, and with it, the anger. It had been simmering under the surface for weeks, a slow burn that matched the one on my skin, but now Manny's observation added a new, bitter fuel to the fire. Not only was I broken, but my supposed "brother" already saw me as a threat.
You broke me, Manny, I thought, the words a venomous tirade in my own skull. You didn't just get me here. You shattered me. I'm useless. I'm a slab of meat in a bed.
There was a pause, a rare moment of hesitation from my usually smug guide. "I... may have underestimated the physical toll," he admitted, his voice lacking its usual confidence. "The tsunami, the dive... I had to pour a lot of energy into keeping you together. I apologize for the... extensiveness of your injuries."
Apologize? I wanted to scream, but all I could do was clench my fists under the sheets, a motion that sent fire shooting up my arms. You immobilized me! I'm stuck here while my son is—
My thought cut off. The panic was a cold fist around my heart.
Where is he, Manny? The question was raw, desperate. My son. Where is he?
Another silence, longer this time. When Manny finally spoke, his tone was infuriatingly calm, almost casual.
"He's here."
My breath caught. "Here? Where?"
"He arrived at camp a week ago," Manny said. "While you were... convalescing. He's safe. For now."
The relief was so overwhelming it was almost painful, immediately followed by a fresh wave of helpless rage. He was here. In this camp. And I was stuck in this bed, a charred, useless wreck.
I have to get to him.
"You will," Manny said. "But first, you have to heal. And listen to me, Ashton. If it was this hard to get inside the walls... imagine how much harder it will be to stay here."