Catch Fire || P. Jackson

𝟏.𝟎𝟏

𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐀 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 routine. Every morning at 9, she would eat breakfast in the diner with the rest of the First Cohort. After breakfast, she would travel down to the town of New Rome and trudge her way through school until lunchtime. Returning to camp for lunch, Lea would get to spend time with her Cohort in training before moving on to work in the Valetudinarian as a medic until dinner.

The 16-year-old enjoyed the methodical way her life continued since she had arrived at Camp Jupiter ten years prior. Having been honoured as Centurion at 14, Lea didn't like the idea of making waves. Following the system had got her to where she was now and she was more than happy with that.

Ever since Jason Grace had disappeared, the demigod did not find herself eating with her Cohort as usual, instead, she chose to stay alone in the Valetudinarian.

It was easy for the two girls to pretend everything was fine in this rhythm. Reyna got to blame her behind her back and still not lose both her friends in one fell swoop. Lea got to blame herself in private and pretend she didn't hear Reyna's breathy comments about her. Reyna was all she had left.

"Cilly!" The familiar tanned face of the Praetor burst into the Valetudinarian. "Someone's crossing the river."

The blonde blinked a couple of times before slowly lowering the yellow teddy bear she had been practising her sutures on. "Med bag?"

"Yes, please."

Lea grabbed the bright red bag and slung it over her shoulder as the two teenagers stumbled down the incline toward the riverbank. "Who is it?"

"No idea," Reyna shouted over her shoulder. "The Senteries are panicking."

"What's new?" She muttered sarcastically.

As they approached the river, the warning horns from the watch towers grew louder until Lea could barely think. A crowd had gathered at the camp gates. If Reyna wasn't more focused on the newcomer, she probably would've killed the campers for not getting out of her way faster. Her regal purple cloak over her armour billowed like a cape as she hurried. Her chest was decorated with medals which glinted importantly in the evening sun. As the Praetor reached the worn gates, they creaked open and the throngs of armoured demigods poured out.

Up on the watchtowers, horns blew. The sentries shouted and swivelled their crossbows toward two gorgons.

Lea was the first to reach the riverbank. Her eyes darted around the scene intently. The dark-skinned Daughter of Pluto from the Fifth Cohort, Hazel was out of the river, next to two other people, while the probatio camper from the Fifth Cohort, Frank was wading through in vain.

"Frank!" Hazel's panic made Lea's stomach lurch.

Frank was halfway across the river when the gorgons caught him. They swooped out of the sky and grabbed him by either arm. He screamed in pain as their claws dug into his skin. The sentries yelled, but Lea knew they couldn't get a clear shot. They'd end up killing Frank. "Hold!" She yelled. Raising her hand to her shoulder, palm facing away from her, she thrust her arm into the air before closing her fist. No arrows flew.

The other demigods drew swords and got ready to charge into the water, but they'd be too late.

The unknown boy next to Hazel thrust out his hands. The river surged. Whirlpools formed on either side of Frank. Giant watery hands erupted from the stream, copying the boy's movements. The giant hands grabbed the gorgons, who dropped Frank in surprise. Then the hands lifted the squawking monsters in a liquid vice grip.

As the other demigods yelped and backed away, Lea took a step closer. Her left knuckles were white on the shoulder straps of her med bag and her right arm was still held in the air, but her eyes shone in unhidden awe.