The Path Of Glory (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

83. The God Of Messengers

New York is awesome. You can pop out of the Underworld in Central Park, get in a van, head down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping along behind you, and nobody even looks at you funny.

Of course, the Mist helped. People probably couldn't see Mrs. O'Leary, or maybe they thought she was a large, loud, very friendly truck.

What wasn't so awesome, though, was sitting next to Annabeth. Especially since nobody seemed willing to get Y/N out of this situation—Ethan said he needed to concentrate on the road and Percy looked very interested by a speck on the front passenger seat window.

"Y/N, what's gotten into you?" Annabeth said. "Going down in the Underworld without telling anyone! If it had only been Percy, I would've understood—but you too . . . !" Percy gestured as if he wanted to say something, but he seemed to think best about it and got back to studying the speck. "Didn't you think about how worried I'd be?"

Y/N noticed Ethan glancing at the rearview mirror. He looked at him like Please, help me, I'll do whatever you want. But Ethan focused back on the road.

Y/N swallowed. "I couldn't let Percy and Nico go alone," he tried. "Imagine what would've happened without me there. Who knows what would've happened to Percy—"

"You should have stopped them! Not go with them," Annabeth said. "Gods, Y/N, do you even realize what could've happened if Nico hadn't come and freed you and Percy? Ethan and I, we wouldn't have been able to do anything."

"We were doing really good before you got there," Y/N grouched.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "Y/N, a hellhound almost ate your head! One more second and you died. Lucky for you Ethan was there."

It was late afternoon when Ethan stopped the van at the Empire State Building. Mrs. O'Leary bounded up and down Fifth Avenue, licking cabs and sniffing hot dog carts. Nobody seemed to notice her, although people did swerve away and look confused when she came close.

Y/N whistled for her to heel.

"What exactly are we doing here?" he asked. "Aren't we supposed to get back to camp? We have to tell them about what Hades said."

"Well, if you hadn't been so busy talking with Annabeth," Ethan said, "you'd have noticed Percy calling Chiron."

Talking, huh? Annabeth had scolded him as if he were a kid, that was what it was.

Three white vans pulled up to the curb. They said Delphi Strawberry Service, which was the cover name for Camp Half-Blood. They usually shuttled out fresh produce into the city.

The first van was driven by Argus, the many-eyed security chief. The other two were driven by harpies (basically demonic human/chicken hybrids with bad attitudes). They used the harpies mostly for cleaning the camp, but they did pretty well in midtown traffic too.

The doors slid open. A bunch of campers climbed out, some of them looking a little green from the long drive. Many had come: Pollux, Silena Beauregard, the Stoll brothers, Michael Yew, Jake Mason, and Katie Gardner, along with most of their siblings. Chiron came out of the van last. His horse half was compacted into his magic wheelchair, so he used the handicap lift. The Ares cabin wasn't here. Clarisse was a stubborn idiot. End of the story.

Y/N did a head count: forty campers in all.

Not many to fight a war, but it was still the largest group of half-bloods he'd ever seen gathered in one place outside camp. Everyone looked nervous, and he understood why. They were probably sending out so much demigod aura that every monster in the northeastern United States knew they were here.