[1] 𝐼𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑢𝑠 - 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛

2.09

-

NO ONE WANTED TO MOVE.

Greif hung in the air.

They were too stunned, too high on adrenaline to fully process what had happened.

Katniss was simply...gone.

Just like that.

No warning, no goodbye, no time to make peace.

The send off they did have was so...incomplete. So unprepared. She wasn't supposed to die. She was supposed to be leverage. The Titans were supposed to keep her alive and wait for her to be rescued.

But she wasn't.

Katniss Nightshade was now Lord Kronos, Ruler of the Titans.

There would be no saving her.

There might have been a chance she was still there, with the way she reacted when Rachel hit her, but it could have easily been dismissed as Kronos getting used to his new form.

But there's no time to grieve when you're a demigod.

They hauled themselves up and started to walk down the corridor.

"Back to New York," Percy said. Cassiopeia was worried by how horrible his voice sounded - like someone with the plague. Each syllable seemed to take large amounts of effort. "Rachel, can you—"

He froze. A few feet in front of them, the flashlight beam fixed on a trampled clump of red fabric lying on the ground. It was a Rasta cap: the one Grover always wore.

Cassiopeia's hands shook as she picked up the cap. It looked like it had been stepped on by a huge muddy boot. After all that she's gone through today, she couldn't stand the thought that something might've happened to Grover, too.

Then she noticed something else. The cave floor was mushy and wet from the water dripping off the stalactites. There were large footprints like Tyson's, and smaller ones— goat hooves—leading off to the left.

"We have to follow them," Cassiopeia said. "They went that way. It must have been recently."

"What about Camp Half-Blood?" Nico said. "There's no time."

"We have to find them," Annabeth insisted. "They're our friends."

She picked up Grover's smashed cap and forged ahead.

Cassiopeia followed, bracing herself for the worst. The tunnel was treacherous. It sloped at weird angles and was slimy with moisture. Half the time they were slipping and sliding rather than walking.

Finally they got to the bottom of a slope and found ourselves in a large cave with huge stalagmite columns. Through the center of the room ran an underground river, and Tyson was sitting by the banks, cradling Grover in his lap. Grover's eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.