It was a known thing.
Not written in any scrolls.
Not taught in lessons.
But every demigod at Camp Half-Blood knew it.
Children of Ares did not understand rest.
They understood momentum.
So it did not surprise Jake or Teddy in the slightest when, barely a day after the Minotaur fight, Clarisse and Chris were already awake, armored, and arguing.
"We're fine," Clarisse said, rolling her shoulder experimentally. The motion made her wince—but she hid it quickly. "Bones are solid. Bruises don't matter."
Jake stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
"You couldn't lift your spear properly yesterday."
"And yet I can lift it now," Clarisse snapped, gripping the shaft tightly.
Chris stood beside her, jaw set, hands clenched. He looked pale, still moving stiffly, but there was fire in his eyes.
"We can't waste time," he said. "Every day we wait, more monsters will gather. They prepare."
Teddy sat cross-legged on the floor of the tent, his small hands clenched together.
"You're still hurt," he said quietly. "Dad says pushing broken magic—or broken bodies—makes things worse."
Clarisse snorted.
"Your dad isn't a demigod."
Jake stepped between them, voice sharp now.
"And that's exactly why we should listen."
That landed.
Clarisse opened her mouth to argue—then stopped, teeth grinding.
Chris exhaled slowly.
"We don't need to rush straight into battle," he conceded. "But we can scout. Stretch our legs."
Jake shook his head.
"No. Not alone. Not injured."
Teddy looked up at them, eyes pleading.
"Please," he said. "Just… stay inside for a couple days. Heal properly."
For a moment, it looked like Clarisse might actually listen.
Then Chris reached for her hand.
"Just a walk," he murmured. "The scenery's nice."
Clarisse hesitated—then nodded.
Jake's stomach dropped.
"I swear," he said sharply, "if you two walk outside too far—"
"We'll be fine," Clarisse said, already moving toward the tent flap. "We're not idiots."
They were gone before Jake could say anything else.
Teddy watched the flap sway shut, dread curling in his chest.
"…I don't like this," he whispered.
Jake didn't answer.
Because he didn't either.
Clarisse tried not to limp.
She failed.
Chris noticed immediately.
"You should've stayed," he muttered.
"And listen to Jake lecture us for two days?" Clarisse shot back. "No thanks."
They walked anyway.
The countryside was quiet, deceptively peaceful—rolling hills, scattered trees, sunlight filtering through clouds. It almost made Clarisse forget the ache in her ribs.
Almost.
Chris squeezed her hand.
"After this quest," he said softly, "we take a break. Somewhere quiet."
She smirked.
"You? Quiet?"
"Temporarily quiet," he corrected.
The ground trembled.
Clarisse froze.
"…Did you feel that?"
Chris didn't get to answer.
The trees moved.
Three massive Cyclopes emerged from the treeline, clubs dragging behind them, single eyes gleaming with cruel delight.
Clarisse swore.
"We should've stayed," Chris said grimly.
The Cyclopes didn't attack immediately.
They surrounded them.
One spoke, voice thick and mocking.
"DEMIGOD CHILDREN," it rumbled. "WE WERE TOLD YOU WOULD COME."
Clarisse's blood ran cold.
"Told by who?" she demanded.
The Cyclops laughed.
"NOT IMPORTANT."
The fight was brutal—and short.
Clarisse was strong. Chris was skilled.
But they were injured.
Clarisse took down one Cyclops with a furious charge—but a second slammed into her from the side, sending her crashing into a rock outcrop. Pain exploded through her chest.
Chris screamed her name and rushed forward—
—and the third Cyclops struck him from behind.
Chris hit the ground hard.
Chains snapped around his arms before he could move again.
Clarisse tried to stand.
Her body betrayed her.
She roared, slamming her spear into the ground, forcing herself upright just long enough to throw it—hard.
The spear struck a Cyclops in the eye.
It howled.
Clarisse didn't wait.
She ran.
She barely remembered how she made it back.
Blood soaked her armor. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her vision blurred.
She burst through the tent flap and collapsed to her knees.
"Teddy," she choked. "Jake—"
Jake was at her side instantly.
"Where's Chris?"
Clarisse shook violently.
"They took him," she said, voice breaking. "Cyclopes. They were waiting. I couldn't—"
Her fists clenched, tears burning her eyes.
"I couldn't save him."
Teddy's pendant flared hot.
His face went pale.
Jake's jaw hardened.
"…Then we're going after him," Jake said quietly.
Teddy stood.
"No," he said.
Both of them turned.
Teddy's eyes were glowing faintly—not with the sword's power, but with resolve.
"We're going after him together," he said. "And this time—no rushing."
Following Cyclopes turned out very easy.
They did not hide their presence. They did not erase their trail.
Massive footprints crushed grass, split stone, and sank deep into the earth as if the land itself had tried—and failed—to resist them. Broken branches lay scattered like matchsticks, tree trunks scraped raw by passing bulk. Even the air felt heavier along the trail, thick with smoke, sweat, and something animal.
Jake crouched beside one of the prints, pressing his palm against the crater it left behind.
"They didn't even try," he muttered. "Either they're stupid… or arrogant."
Clarisse leaned on her spear for balance, breathing carefully. Her armor was dented, her movements slower than usual, and blood still stained the edge of her sleeve where the potion hadn't fully done its work.
"Cyclopes," she said hoarsely. "Usually both."
Teddy stood a few steps behind them, dagger clenched in both hands. The blade—Hera's gift—looked almost comically large in his grip, but his stance was steady. Calm. Focused.
He hated that they wouldn't let him walk in front.
Not because he wanted to lead—but because he could feel the danger pressing closer with every step.
Jake glanced back at him.
"You sure you're okay?"
Teddy nodded.
"I can walk."
"That's not what I asked," Jake replied gently.
Teddy hesitated, then said softly, "I don't feel scared."
Clarisse snorted weakly.
"That's worse."
They moved on, slower now, every step measured. The ground rose steadily, the trees thinning as rocky outcroppings replaced soil. The smell of smoke grew stronger—sharp, greasy, unmistakable.
A cave mouth yawned ahead.
Wide. Jagged. Black.
Jake raised a fist, halting them.
"That's it."
Clarisse's jaw tightened.
"Figures."
Before they went any further, Jake crouched in front of Teddy.
"About the sword," he said quietly. "You still don't know how you called it?"
Teddy shook his head.
"I tried," he admitted. "After… after the Minotaur. I thought if I concentrated, it would come again."
"And?" Clarisse asked.
"And nothing happened," Teddy said. "It only came when Jake was going to die."
Silence followed.
Jake swallowed.
"So we don't rely on it."
Teddy nodded.
"I know."
He looked down at the dagger in his hands.
"I'll use this."
They approached the cave.
The temperature dropped immediately, the warmth of the outside world swallowed by damp stone and stale air. Jake signaled for silence and slipped inside first, Clarisse following despite her injuries, teeth clenched against the pain.
Teddy paused at the entrance, whispering a word under his breath.
Magic stirred.
The scent of blood, sweat, and fear faded—wrapped, folded, hidden beneath layers of illusion. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to confuse creatures that relied on smell more than sight.
Cyclopes relied on everything.
They moved deeper.
The cave widened into a rough chamber lit by firelight.
Jake peeked around a boulder and froze.
Clarisse followed his gaze.
Three Cyclopes sat around a roaring fire pit, their massive forms casting grotesque shadows against the cave walls. One gnawed on something unidentifiable. Another stirred the fire with a thick branch.
And in the center—
Two massive forked branches had been planted upright beside the flames.
Between them, lashed to a thick wooden pole, hung Chris Rodriguez.
His armor had been stripped away. His arms were bound above his head, head slumped forward, chest rising shallowly. Blood streaked his temple, and his face was pale—but he was alive.
For now.
Clarisse's breath hitched.
"They're… cooking him," she whispered, fury shaking her voice.
Jake's hand trembled as he gripped his dagger.
"We don't have time."
One of the Cyclopes stood, lifting the pole slightly, testing its weight.
"SOON," it rumbled. "MEAT READY."
Clarisse's knuckles went white around her spear.
"I'm going in."
Jake grabbed her arm.
"You can barely stand!"
"I don't care," she hissed. "That's my—"
Teddy touched her hand.
"Let me help," he said quietly.
Clarisse looked down at him.
Really looked.
He wasn't shaking in fear, he was shaking in anger.
Jake exhaled slowly.
"We do this clean. Fast. No heroics."
Clarisse gave a humorless smile.
"Says the Hermes kid."
"I can distract them," Teddy said. "Just for a moment."
Jake hesitated.
Then nodded.
"On my signal."
The Cyclopes laughed, unaware.
The fire crackled.
Teddy's fingers closed around a small stone hidden in the inner pocket of his backpack.
It was smooth, warm to the touch, no larger than a coin—but etched into its surface were tiny runes that pulsed faintly, as if they were breathing. Harry had pressed it into Teddy's palm before the quest, his voice calm, deliberate.
Only if things go very wrong.
Clarisse and Jake watched as Teddy stepped forward, far quieter than a child his age had any right to be.
"Teddy," Jake whispered urgently. "What are you—"
Teddy didn't look back.
He raised the stone, took a breath, and said clearly,
"Activate."
Then he threw it.
The stone landed directly in the heart of the fire pit.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then the rune flared—
—and the fire died.
A violent surge of enchanted water exploded outward, crashing through the cave like a tidal wave. Flames vanished instantly, steam billowing upward as embers were drowned and scattered across the stone floor.
The Cyclopes recoiled in confusion, roaring in anger as their vision vanished in the sudden darkness and mist.
"NOW!" Jake shouted.
Clarisse didn't hesitate.
She charged.
Pain flared through her injured side, but she ignored it, spear flashing as she drove it into the nearest Cyclops' leg. Jake moved with her, blades singing as he struck tendons and hamstrings, forcing the monsters' attention onto themselves.
They had made the decision instantly.
They would hold the line.
Which meant—
"Teddy!" Clarisse barked. "Get Chris!"
Teddy was already moving.
He sprinted toward the fire pit, boots slipping on wet stone as he ducked beneath swinging arms and snapping jaws. He reached the massive wooden pole where Chris was bound, hands shaking only slightly as he raised his dagger.
"Hang on," Teddy whispered.
The blade cut cleanly through the first rope.
Chris groaned faintly.
"Teddy…?"
Before Teddy could answer, a shadow loomed.
One of the Cyclopes had broken away.
It lifted its massive club high and swung—
The pendant around Teddy's neck blazed white-hot.
A translucent barrier snapped into existence just as the club crashed down. The impact sent a shockwave through the cave, stone cracking beneath the force—but the barrier held, shimmering like solid light.
Teddy staggered but stayed standing.
The Cyclops roared, raising its club again—
—and then the cave filled with light.
Pure. Brilliant. Silver-white.
From the mouth of the cave burst a massive stag.
Not flesh.
Not blood.
Light.
A Patronus—huge, radiant, antlers spanning the width of the tunnel, its hooves striking stone without sound. The air hummed with ancient magic, warmth washing over the cave like dawn after endless night.
Teddy gasped.
He knew that form.
He had seen it before.
"…Dad," he whispered.
The stag did not slow.
It charged.
The Cyclops had just enough time to turn before the Patronus drove its glowing antlers straight through the monster's chest. There was no scream—only a wet, choking sound as blood sprayed across the cave wall.
The Cyclops fell.
The other two fled instantly, terror overwhelming arrogance as they ran deeper into the cave.
The stag followed.
Teddy stared, stunned.
"I thought Patronuses couldn't—"
The light vanished as suddenly as it had come, racing after the fleeing monsters until the cave returned to shadow and silence.
Teddy cut the last rope.
Chris collapsed into his arms, coughing violently as Jake rushed over to support him.
"Easy," Jake muttered. "You're alive. That's what matters."
Clarisse limped toward them, bloodied but standing.
They didn't wait.
Together, they moved.
Out of the cave. Into the open air. Away from fire and blood and stone.
Only when they reached the entrance did they stop.
Chris leaned heavily against a rock, eyes unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"…What," he rasped, "the hell just happened?"
Teddy stood in front of him, small hands clenched into fists, pendant still faintly glowing.
He looked up.
And smiled—just a little.
"My father," Teddy said softly, voice steady despite everything.
"He's watching over me."
Author's Note:
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