Percy Jackson: The Son of Kronos

Chapter 9: The Call of the Sea

The room groaned ominously, the broken observation deck teetering as the wind howled through the gaping hole. Percy's pulse quickened as he realized he was completely stranded. The elevators were either gone or unusable, and Echidna's attack had left the structure unstable. He peered through the shattered window at the dizzying drop to the Mississippi River far below.

"Great," he muttered. "No pressure."

Behind him, the Chimera's remains dissolved fully, leaving behind nothing but the lingering smell of sulfur. Percy stepped closer to the jagged edge, his thoughts racing. There wasn't time to wait for rescue—if he stayed, the deck might collapse entirely, taking him with it. His gaze shifted to the river below. It was a long fall, but something deep inside him whispered that he'd survive it.

The same instinct that had guided him in the fight flared to life again. The water called to him, a silent reassurance that he'd be safe.

"Okay, Jackson," he muttered to himself. "It's not like you have a better idea."

With one last glance at the empty observation deck, Percy climbed onto the ledge. The wind tugged at his clothes, and for a moment, vertigo made his head spin. He forced himself to focus.

"Here goes nothing," he said, and he jumped.

The rush of air was deafening as Percy plummeted from the Gateway Arch. The cold sting of wind whipped against his face, but his mind was eerily calm. He didn't scream, didn't flail—he simply let gravity do its work. For a fleeting moment, he marveled at how close death felt, how the end could come so swiftly. Then, with a colossal splash, he hit the Mississippi River.

The water embraced him like an old friend, cushioning his fall. He sank deeper, the murky river swirling around him. For a few seconds, Percy didn't move, letting the water cradle him, soothing the bruises and cuts from his battle with Echidna and the Chimera. Warmth spread through his body, a sensation that wasn't just healing—it was empowering. The aches in his muscles vanished, his lungs filled with water but refused to drown him, and his vision sharpened even in the murky depths. 

The water didn't just heal him—it invigorated him, filling him with a renewed sense of energy.

Before he could fully process what was happening, the current shifted, swirling around him in an unnatural pattern. A figure emerged from the murky depths—a water spirit, her form shimmering like sunlight on the waves. Her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light as she approached him, her movements as fluid as the river itself.

"Percy Jackson," she said, her voice clear and melodic despite the water. "I am a messenger of your father."

"My father?" Percy asked, his mind still reeling. He knew Poseidon had claimed him at Camp Half-Blood, but the reality of being connected to the god of the sea felt distant, almost unreal.

The water spirit nodded, her expression serene. "Go to the beach in Santa Monica. "

"Santa Monica?" Percy repeated, frowning. "That's all the way in California. How am I supposed to get there?"

"The sea will guide you," the spirit said cryptically. "And your path will become clear in time. Trust in your instincts, Percy Jackson. You are more than you know. Go to Santa Monica! And, Percy, do not trust the gifts…."

"Gifts?" he asked. "What gifts are you referring to?" 

She made one more attempt to speak, but the sound was gone. The spirit dissolved into the water, leaving him alone in the river's embrace. He surfaced, gasping for air, though he hadn't needed to hold his breath. The cool breeze hit his face as he floated in the water, his thoughts racing.

More than I know? Percy thought. What did that mean? And what gifts was she referring to? 

He already felt like he was juggling too many mysteries—his strange powers, the prophecy, the quest, and now this.

Swimming to the riverbank, Percy climbed out of the water, his clothes miraculously dry. He glanced back at the Gateway Arch towering above him, the observation deck still visible near the top. Annabeth and Grover must've noticed he was missing by now.

Time to regroup, he thought, squaring his shoulders.

Emerging from the river, Percy climbed onto the bank, soaked but alive. The cool night air prickled his skin as he scanned his surroundings. Police sirens echoed faintly in the distance, and the distant glow of flashing lights marked the chaos near the Gateway Arch. He had to move quickly.

Annabeth and Grover were waiting anxiously by the riverbank when Percy emerged, shaking water from his dark hair like a predator unbothered by the chase. His sharp green eyes scanned them, lingering on Annabeth just long enough to make her fidget.

"You're alive," she said, her voice edged with frustration that barely masked her relief.

"Was there any doubt?" Percy replied, his smirk curling at the edges. He noted the way her gray eyes flickered over him, searching for injuries. It was subtle, but he could see she was concerned.

Grover's voice broke the moment. "What happened down there, man? We saw the Chimera and... I thought that was it!"

Percy leaned against a nearby tree, his posture casual but commanding attention. "Echidna's little dog had some bite, I'll give her that," he said, recounting the events with just enough exaggeration to keep them on edge. He described the Chimera's attack, the burning pain of the poison, and his leap of faith into the river below.

When he spoke of the underwater messenger, Annabeth stiffened. "A summons from Poseidon?" she repeated, her tone skeptical. "You can't ignore something like that, Percy. He's your father."

Grover nodded fervently. "Yeah, dude. That's big. You have to go."

Percy's gaze darkened slightly. "I don't have to do anything. Just because he's Poseidon doesn't mean I'm going to run when he whistles. He's got his reasons for showing up now, and I'll hear them—when I'm ready."

Annabeth frowned, her arms crossing. "You're impossible, you know that? You could've died back there, and now you're acting like this is some kind of game!"

He stepped closer, his voice soft but sharp enough to cut through her frustration. "It is a game, Annabeth. And the only way to win is to know when to play."

Her breath caught, and she faltered for a moment before glaring at him. Percy didn't press further, instead turning to Grover. "What's the plan?"

"We need to move. The cops are swarming the Arch, and there are news vans everywhere. They're probably looking for us."

Percy nodded. "I'm guessing we can't just walk back into the station?"

"Not unless you want to end up on the evening news," Annabeth said, handing Percy his backpack, which she must have grabbed during their escape. "We'll have to sneak around the perimeter and find a way back to the Amtrak station without being seen."

"Great," Percy muttered. "Just another normal day."

The trio moved cautiously along the riverbank, sticking to the shadows. Police officers patrolled the area, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. Grover's heightened senses helped them avoid detection, and Annabeth's quick thinking guided them through the maze of back alleys and side streets.

They reached the edge of the station just as a news crew passed by, their cameras aimed at the distant Arch. Annabeth gestured for Percy and Grover to wait while she scouted ahead.

"We're cutting it close," Grover whispered, glancing nervously at the train station. "The train leaves soon."

"We'll make it," Percy said confidently, though his eyes kept darting to the flashing lights in the distance.

Annabeth returned a moment later, signaling the all-clear. They slipped into the station through a side entrance, avoiding the main terminal where officers were stationed. The hum of the train grew louder as they approached the platform.

"There!" Grover pointed.

The train to Denver was just about to depart. They sprinted for the doors, slipping on board seconds before they closed. Percy leaned against the wall, catching his breath as the train began to pull away.

As the train trundled west, the lights of St. Louis faded behind them. Percy glanced out the window, watching the city shrink into the distance. The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels was oddly soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos they'd just escaped.

Annabeth sat across from him, her gray eyes studying him intently. Percy met her gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What? Worried about me?"

She huffed. "I'm worried about this quest. You almost got yourself killed back there."

"Key word: almost," Percy said.

Grover, sitting beside them, interrupted. "Can we not argue for once?"

The tension eased slightly, and Percy let his thoughts drift. The water spirit's message lingered in his mind, as did the faint sense of unease it brought.

"Santa Monica," he murmured, staring out at the darkened landscape.

"What about it?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Percy said quickly. "Just thinking."

He needed time to figure out what the message meant and how it fit into the bigger picture. But for now, their destination was Denver, and the quest demanded their full attention.

Night deepened, and the train settled into a quiet rhythm. Percy found himself sitting by the window, watching the stars blink into existence. Annabeth joined him after a while, her posture guarded but relaxed.

"We've got a long way to go," she said softly.

Percy nodded. "Yeah. But we'll get there."

For a moment, the two sat in silence, the weight of the quest pressing down on them. Percy knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down—not around Annabeth, not around anyone. He was playing a game far more dangerous than they realized, and every move had to be calculated.

Still, he allowed himself this brief reprieve, a moment to breathe before the next storm hit.

"We're not done yet," he whispered, more to himself than to Annabeth.

And he wasn't.

—

End of chapter 9

Author's Note: Not a lot has happened in this chapter really, just Percy being summoned by Poseidon to Santa Monica. They then resume their journey to Denver. Hope you enjoy.