The Spear Breaks

  “You… whose son did you say you were?” Clarisse asked for a moment, caught between surprise and confusion.

  “What? Have you never heard that thing about choosing your own father? A father is not the one who creates you, but the one who raises you. Or do you think I should be like all the campers, trying to get even a shred of attention from the man who sired me? The man who abandoned my mother and me? The one I only found out existed when a war was about to break out, because I was accused of stealing the Master Bolt for him, and then sent on a mission to save his ass from a lightning-filled war against his own brother, without even a single bit of his help. No. I reject being his son. I reject trying, like everyone else, to become his pride. I reject every part of me that ever hoped a biological father would love me. My master is the only father figure I respect… and ever will,” Percy said, his tone heavy and serious.

  Clarisse stared at him, swallowing hard at Percy’s words, words that did not only affect her, but Annabeth as well.

  Clarisse took a fighting stance and gestured for the zombie soldiers to step back. She was ready to face Percy on her own, as a direct clash of opposing wills. She fought for her father, still trying to earn his attention. Percy fought for himself, to prove that you do not need your father to stand tall.

  Clarisse attacked first.

  She lunged forward, thrusting her spear straight toward Percy’s chest. He stepped aside and knocked the spear away with his sword, metal scraping against the black blade and throwing sparks into the air, before counterattacking with a slash aimed at Clarisse. She arched her body backward, the black sword barely grazing her neck.

  Clarisse recovered her spear and spun it around her body. Percy ducked and drove a punch with his free hand straight into her stomach. Clarisse managed to block it just in time with the shaft of the spear, which vibrated violently from the impact. Even so, she was forced several steps back.

  She looked up at Percy with a serious expression.

  “You are not the only one who has been training nonstop,” she said, enduring Percy’s almost monstrous strength. The slight tremor in her hand made it clear she had not escaped unharmed. “I trained until my hands bled, all for my revenge,” she added, staring at him as she shifted the spear to one hand and began to circle around Percy, who watched her with a completely calm expression.

  “Uh-huh… and did they also throw you off a cliff and make you climb it back up with your bare hands?” Percy asked calmly.

  That threw Clarisse off for a moment.

  “Then you did not train as much as I did,” Percy said, taking a step forward that kicked sand into the air behind him. In the next instant, Clarisse barely saw him move. Percy was already in front of her, slashing diagonally.

  Clarisse raised the spear on instinct to block, but almost immediately she saw it split in two. The steel snapped cleanly.

  Percy’s black sword stopped just short of Clarisse’s neck.

  “You lost,” he said calmly.

  Clarisse stared at him. For a moment, her gaze drifted toward the spear her father had given her. But it felt as if something else inside her had broken as well. She let both fragments fall from her hands.

  Suddenly, she lunged forward and punched Percy straight in the nose. It was the first hit she managed to land. Percy grabbed his face in pain, staring at her as if he had just discovered a cheater.

  “Hmph. If this were a real battle, do you really think your mortal enemy would stop just because you said ‘you lost’?” Clarisse said in a rough tone, a faint, satisfied smile appearing after landing the hit, before she dropped to sit in the sand.

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  “Aaah!” she shouted as she raked her hands through her hair, furious, frustrated, and completely lost. “I did not want to do this either, alright? I just want to complete the mission to save the camp,” she said.

  Meanwhile, Percy was still in shock from the punch, lightly holding his nose as Tyson walked over to check on him.

  “I think it is a little crooked,” Tyson said, observing closely.

  “Really? It feels a little crooked to me,” Percy replied.

  “It is a mission my father gave me. How could I not carry it out? But if I do… I do not know what will happen,” Clarisse said, truly lost. “And if I do not…” Her voice trembled for a moment, heavy with fear and sadness.

  “But you should know,” Clarisse continued, looking at him. “Your master must force you to do missions too. And if you do not complete them, what happens?” she asked, as if searching for an answer she did not have.

  Percy looked at her for a moment while trying to fix his nose, though in truth he was mostly just poking it with his fingers.

  “Mmm… the only mandatory mission the master gave us is not to die. After that, he has this weird belief that all missions should be accepted, even though he himself seems to suffer sometimes,” Percy said with a light laugh.

  “The loot,” Tyson added.

  “Ah, right. And collecting anything along the way that looks useful,” Percy added. “After that, he lets us do whatever we want, and even supports us.”

  Clarisse looked at him for a moment, then leaned back on her arms and stared up at the sky.

  “Whatever you want to do…,” she murmured.

  “And what do you want to do?” Annabeth asked, looking at Clarisse.

  Clarisse turned her gaze back toward them before answering.

  “The mission the camp gave me. Find the Fleece and save everyone,” she said, though there was a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “Oh, and make sure those idiots earn Elysium,” she added, pointing at the zombies, who seemed to smile with something like happiness and respect toward her.

  “And how were you planning to do that?” Annabeth asked.

  “Well, I was hoping the camp’s smart girl, the one who was supposed to be my quest partner, would tell me,” Clarisse replied.

  “So, you will let us go with you? You look for the Fleece as your quest, and we save Grover,” Annabeth said, staring at her, before turning to Percy. “Right?” she added.

  Percy, whose face was still twisted slightly from the pain in his nose, looked at Clarisse for a moment. Then he straightened and raised a hand to his forehead in a military salute.

  “At your command, Captain,” he said with visible resignation.

  Tyson immediately copied him, standing straight and saluting as well.

  Clarisse hesitated for a moment as she looked at them, first Annabeth, then Percy.

  “I will still try to kill him if he gets distracted,” she said before standing up and picking up her broken spear.

  “That is fair,” Annabeth replied, nodding.

  “Of course it is not,” Percy protested, but no one seemed to pay attention to him, except Tyson, who gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  …

  Clarisse was inside what looked like some kind of strategy cabin. She stared at the broken spear in her hands while the ship rocked gently as it cut through the waves.

  “If… if you want,” Tyson spoke from behind her, making Clarisse spin around and point the broken tip of the spear at him. “If you want, I can fix it. I am good at repairing magical weapons. The master taught me,” he said calmly, even with the point aimed at him.

  Clarisse stared at him for a moment before lowering the spear. She did not answer right away, just watched him in silence.

  “What is he like?” she asked suddenly.

  “What, repairing spears? I just need to—”

  “No. Your master. What is he like,” she interrupted. “I… heard stories. About how he confronted Zeus on Olympus. The dryads seemed excited about what happened, and the satyrs spread the news. He went in, destroyed everything in his path, and walked out unharmed. Just for Jackson,” she said, and a faint trace of jealousy slipped into her voice, as if she wished her own father had ever done the same.

  “The master is awesome,” Tyson said with a smile. “He took me off the streets. Turned the bad monsters who wanted to burn my house into dust. He brought me to a new home, with Sally and Percy. He taught me how to make weapons and armor, how to enchant them. He taught me some magic, even if I do not understand many spells. He gave me candy,” he said, growing more animated by the second. “I asked the gods to give me friends, and he came himself and gave me Percy. My brother,” he added.

  Tyson smiled proudly.

  “The master loves Percy a lot too. He always looks after him. And when Percy misbehaves, he hits him a little,” he added completely naturally. “But I saw him smile many times when Percy managed to complete his training. Very proud. That is why the master is awesome.”

  Clarisse fell silent, watching Tyson as she thought about his words. Then she let out a forced smile and handed him the two broken halves of the spear.

  “Can you improve it? It used to channel lightning and things like that, but the Hephaestus cabin could not restore that power,” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah, sure. I just need an enchantment and a soul gem. But I have several,” Tyson replied with a smile.