Wrathful Protector of the Ocean: Chapter Seven. (My full-length, slow-burn Clarisse La Rue/Percy Jackson fic)

CHAPTER Seven: I AM OFFERED A QUEST

Chiron and Mr. D exchanged glances, but before either could speak, Clarisse leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

"Look, Jackson, here's the deal," she said bluntly. "Zeus's master lightning bolt—the original weapon of mass destruction—has been stolen. And guess who Zeus thinks took it?"

Percy blinked. "Me?"

"Not you personally," Clarisse corrected, rolling her eyes. "Your dad. Poseidon. The gods are always fighting, but stealing each other's symbols of power? That crosses a line. It's like... imagine if someone stole the nuclear codes, except worse."

"But why would Zeus think Poseidon took it?" Percy asked. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Clarisse grabbed a pretzel from a bowl on the table and pointed it at Percy before taking a bite. "Because the old thunderhead needs someone to blame, and your dad's the obvious choice. They've been rivals forever. And you?" She gestured at him with the half-eaten pretzel. "You're living proof that Poseidon broke the oath. As far as Zeus is concerned, that makes you suspect number one."

"That's ridiculous," Percy protested. "I didn't even know any of this existed until a week ago!"

"Gods aren't big on logic when they're angry," Clarisse shrugged. "Trust me, I know. My dad's the god of war—anger's kind of his thing."

Annabeth cut in, "The winter solstice was the last time all the gods were together on Olympus. That's when the bolt was taken. Zeus has until the summer solstice—June 21st—to get it back, or..."

"Or what?" Percy asked.

"Or he declares war," Clarisse finished. "And when immortal gods go to war, mortals die. Lots of them. Last time these guys really went at it, we had the Trojan War. This time? Think world-ending catastrophe."

Percy looked at Chiron for confirmation, who nodded grimly.

"Clarisse's assessment, while colorful, is essentially correct," the centaur said. "The situation is critical."

"But what can I do about it?" Percy asked, feeling overwhelmed. "I didn't take the bolt."

"Obviously," Clarisse snorted. "You can barely swing a sword without tripping, not to mention your novice-skills at hand-to-hand combat."

"What Clarisse means," Chiron interjected with a pointed look at the daughter of Ares, "is that you have an opportunity to prove your innocence—and your father's."

"A quest," Annabeth breathed, her eyes lighting up.

"Hold up," Percy said. "You want me to find this lightning bolt? I wouldn't even know where to start."

Clarisse leaned back in her chair. "It's pretty simple, Jackson. Someone took the bolt. That someone is probably trying to start a war between the gods. So who benefits from gods fighting each other?"

Percy thought for a moment. "Enemies of the gods?"

"Bingo," Clarisse nodded approvingly. "And who's the biggest enemy the gods ever had?"

"Kronos," Annabeth whispered, her face paling. "The Titan lord."

Mr. D, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly sat forward. "Let's not jump to conclusions," he said sharply. "That particular threat is long past."

Percy opens his mouth, potentially to bring up Gaia as an enemy of the gods who might have orchestrated the theft, but his instincts scream at him that it isn't so. Something on Clarisse's face dissuaded him from voicing that particular question.

"What about Hades?" Clarisse suggested, ignoring Mr. D's discomfort. "He's always got a grudge against his brothers. And he was at Olympus for the winter solstice—he always is."

"The Lord of the Dead is a potential prime suspect," Chiron agreed carefully. "He has the motive and the opportunity."

"So you want me to go to the Underworld and confront the God of the Underworld," Percy said flatly. "Great."

"It gets better," Clarisse added with a grim smile. "You've got a deadline. The summer solstice is in ten days."

Percy stared at her. "Ten days to find the most powerful weapon in the universe?"

"I never said that," Clarisse said quickly, though the gleam in her eyes betrayed her. "I'm just pointing out you need muscle on this quest, not just brains."

"You actually want to come," Percy realized, studying her face.

Clarisse scowled, but there was something almost vulnerable behind her tough exterior. "Look, Jackson, this is big. Bigger than cabin rivalries. If there's really someone out there trying to start a war among the gods..." She trailed off, then squared her shoulders. "My father might be the god of war, but even he knows some battles aren't worth fighting. A war between the gods would destroy everything. Besides," she added with forced casualness, "someone's got to make sure you don't get yourself killed before you clear your dad's name."

Annabeth looked between them, her analytical gaze calculating something. "It's unusual to have two female companions on a quest," she noted. "Traditionally—"

"Traditionally, quests fail as often as they succeed," Clarisse cut in. "Maybe it's time for a new tradition."

Mr. D sighed dramatically. "As fascinating as this teenage drama is, there's still the matter of consulting the Oracle. No quest can begin without a prophecy."

"He's right," Chiron said. "Percy, if you're accepting this quest, you must consult the Oracle of Delphi. She resides in the attic of the Big House."

"Alone," Mr. D added with a hint of malicious pleasure. "No one accompanies seekers to hear their futures."

Percy swallowed hard. "Now?"

"No time like the present," Chiron said gently.

As Percy stood to leave, Clarisse caught his arm. "Whatever she tells you," she said in a low voice, "don't freak out. Prophecies always have double meanings."

The intensity in her eyes surprised Percy. It wasn't just that she wanted adventure—she genuinely seemed concerned about the quest's success.

"I'll be back," he promised, then headed for the stairs that would lead him to the attic and whatever destiny awaited him there.