Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Wings for the Road

The morning after capture-the-flag, Camp Half-Blood woke to a sky bruised with clouds and the weight of prophecy. Percy Jackson sat at the Poseidon table in the pavilion, poking at blue pancakes that tasted like saltwater taffy. The trident symbol above his new cabin still felt like a dream—or a bad joke. Sea-green eyes flicked around: campers whispering, stealing glances. Son of Poseidon. Big deal. Mom's dead, gods fighting. Now this.Chiron had gathered them at dawn in the Big House rec room—maps pinned to walls, Oracle's faded slip pinned center. You shall go west to face the god who has turned, to reach the river of night to stop the storm... Percy read it again, stomach twisting. "So I'm the thief? Leading?"Chiron nodded gravely from his wheelchair, blue eyes steady. "The Oracle names you, Percy. Zeus's bolt must return by winter solstice. Poseidon stands accused. Three heroes—tradition."Annabeth Chase leaned forward, ponytail swinging, gray eyes sharp as her dagger. "I'll go. Someone needs to think straight."Percy glanced at Cynthia Morales beside her, dark waves braided back, obsidian eyes thoughtful on the map. She'd saved his skin twice already—arrows whispering past Clarisse, knives flashing in the melee. Lean and graceful at twelve, she moved like she belonged to the shadows more than the sun. "You in too, Cyn? Your shots are killer. And those grapples—Clarisse still limping."Cynthia blinked, small hands twisting her quiver strap. "Me? Percy, I'm unclaimed. Two years here and nothing. Mediocre with swords. You sure I'm...?""You're sure," Annabeth cut in, matter-of-fact. "Instincts like yours don't come from nowhere. Night patrols, flank work—you're built for it."Grover bleated from the corner, nervously chewing his reed pipe. "I'm going too. Satyr honor."Percy nodded, feeling the decision settle. Sword fights felt right—Riptide humming in his pocket, raw strength surging like waves. Clarisse's spear had tested him; he'd held. Good enough. "Team's set then."Luke Castellan slipped in then, gold hair catching light, blue eyes shadowed but smiling. He pressed a package into Percy's hands. "Quest present from cabin eleven. Hermes express." Inside: winged sneakers, battered leather that shimmered faintly. "They'll fly you high. Or low, if you chicken out."Percy grinned, slipping them on. They hummed against his ankles, lifting him an inch off the floor. "Whoa. These'll work." He kicked lightly, hovering. But close quarters? Nah—dodges, not his style. He tugged them off, holding them out to Cynthia. "Here. You're faster up close. Knives, spears—use 'em mid-air. I got the sword."She stared at the shoes, olive fingers hesitant. "Percy, these are yours. Leader gear.""Team gear," he said firmly. "Trust me—you're qualified. Saved my butt last night, remember?"Annabeth smirked. "He's right. Take them."Cynthia slipped them on slowly, testing a hover. Wings buzzed soft, lifting her smooth. "Okay. Thanks." Doubt lingered in her quiet voice—unclaimed ache plain—but she nodded resolved.Planning – Afternoon MontageThe rec room became war central. Annabeth unrolled maps—St. Louis Gateway Arch entry point? Lotus Casino time-trap rumors?—sketching routes with fierce pencil strokes. "Avoid highways. Monsters sniff half-bloods. Underworld via DOA Recording Studios."Percy practiced sword forms nearby, Riptide bronze gleaming. Good clashes against shadows—instinct over form, power raw like Dad's sea. Water bottle trickled to his hand unbidden, splashing practice waves. Cool. Scary.Cynthia hovered low, knives flipping excellent mid-air, spears tossed very good testing arcs. Shoes agile boost; her grapples shadow-danced. "Lotus trap—how long?" she asked smart, eyes on map."Days lost," Grover warned, pipe trilling nerves. "Vegas bad."Luke lingered door, advice clipped. "Shoes dodge aerial. Bolt heavy—guard it." Bitterness edged gone quick.Chiron finalized: "Medusa heads, Chimera fire—legends live. Return heroes."Mr. D belched from armchair. "Don't summon me for rescues. Paperwork."Send-Off DawnHilltop pine rustled farewell, camp gathered misty morn. Silena hugged Cynthia tight—"Come back pretty"—Katie pressed vine charm. Clarisse grunted Percy: "Don't embarrass us, fish-boy." Stolls slipped exploding prank-pens: "Monster bait."Luke gripped Percy's shoulder last, then Cynthia's. "Fly true. Cabin waits."Annabeth shouldered pack determined, dagger hilt glinting. Grover reed-ready nervous. Percy pocketed Riptide, conflict churning—good sword no match gods' mess, but Mom's face pushed him. Do this.Cynthia laced shoes final, hover-test graceful. Qualified? Prove. Unclaimed doubt nagged, but team steadied.Chiron nuzzled farewell. "Heroes return."Van rumbled down driveway—quest launched, bolt-clock ticking.