In Pursuit of Power (A Percy Jackson Fanfic)

Lelantos wasn't happy. Far, far from it.

Underneath him evergreen forests and long fields of golden-brown grass slipped by as nothing but blurs. Most days, a flight like this would be enough to put him in a good mood for hours, but today was not most days. As the skyline of a small city came into view ahead of him, Lelantos's mood only worsened.

He was a Titan, for Kronos' sake. Not one of the eldest, or the strongest, or even the wisest, but just being a Titan at all should count for something. When he first traveled hundreds of miles to take up one of the new governor positions created by the ruler of the West, he expected to be handed a cushy slice of land and be allowed to sit back and enjoy it. He'd get some good hunting in, and find find a beautiful woman or two to share his own slice of heaven.

What he did not count on was being sent to the northern reaches of the territory as a glorified babysitter for some upstart river god.

Rio Grande — or just Rio, as the fool insisted on calling himself — thought far too highly of his own self. He hadn't seemed to grasp yet what Lelantos knew from a single glance.

Governor positions weren't so generous because the ones receiving them deserved it. They were generous because the one giving them out was scared.

Utterly frightened, totally terrified, wetting the bed, etc. Whatever synonym you could dredge up, it was true. The only chink in the Titans' new regime as it conquered Western Civilization was, ironically, it's western side. The rightful ruler Iapteus had gone missing before the war on a mission to the Underworld. Rumors said he was defeated by demigods, but the only thing that was known for sure was that no one could find him. But someone needed to step up, and with Atlas under the sky it was another of Iapetus's sons picked for the role: Menoetius.

As a Titan whose greatest claim to fame was being the first casualty of the first war, that was, in Lelantos's opinion, simultaneously the greatest and worst thing to ever happier to Menoetius. The greatest because he lucked into a position so powerful even his wildest wet dreams must never have imagined something so lucky, and the worst because he'd spent every second since panicking about when and how he would lose it.

Lelantos actually pitied him. But not enough to not take full advantage of Menoetius' paranoia-fueled throwing away of land and benefits to anyone that would lend their ear.

Although, right now, he admitted he was having second thoughts about who was really taking advantage of the other…

Picking out a specific building from the city below, Lelantos banked in that direction.

Moments before landing he changed. While flying he stood at ten feet tall, with long wings of pearly feathers that stretched from either of his shoulder blades. His nose looked like that of a cat, while slightly-too-large ears on either side of his head picked out every noise at a distance far beyond what should've been possible. His eyes were more circular than a person's ought to be, with the majority taken up by dark pupils. They were the eyes not just of a bird, but of a falcon: the eyes of an aerial hunter.

All these features disappeared as he struck the ground. Even his wings folded back and morphed into regular skin on his back. He became a much more human looking man, young and good-looking with pure white hair. He wore camouflage pants and a camouflage jacket that was open to show off a limited edition Bass Pro Shop t-shirt.

Despite losing his wings mid-descent, Lelantos still landed before his target without a single sound. A six-story beige building loomed large in front of him. Over a hundred dark windows decorated its surface, but more than a few were shattered. All around it looked like it had once been quite impressive, but a few too many years had passed since its last cleaning. SPOKANE CITY HALL was emblazoned above a front door guarded by two mortals in combat gear.

That term always made Lelantos chuckle. Combat gear was supposed to mean glistening bronze armor, not the darkly-colored pajamas and plastic that modern mortals described that way.

"I have arrived!" he announced loudly, delighting in the way both mortals jumped in fright.

The man on the right started to reach for the weapon on his hip, but his partner, a woman, had the good sense to stop him with a raised hand.

"Welcome, Lord Lelantos," she said. "How may we help you?"

"You know me?" he asked. "Truly? Not that it should be surprising, mind, but mortals these days…"

"We truly are helpless," the man deadpanned.

"Precisely!" Lelantos agreed. "To answer the question, you two can help me with nothing except guiding me to your leader. Chop chop."

The woman bowed. After a hesitation that lasted slightly too long, the man did the same.

They both turned and led the way into a lobby dominated by red carpet. Tables and benches for waiting visitors dotted the room, but more than a few had been crushed into scraps, looking like they'd been stepped on by something altogether too heavy for their architecture. The front desk was manned by a short blond with an impressive bust beneath her white shirt. She smiled at them as the guards led Lelantos by. The Titan actually smiled back.

He'd have to ask that one if she wase interested in a quiet life deep in the woods with him on his way back out. 

Following the guards through a few rooms and up an elevator to the top floor, Lelantos found his patience fraying. Having to travel this deep into the building's bowels was extending an already long trip. And yet, he found it so like Rio for the god to have made things as difficult as possible.

Something else was bothering Lelantos, too. With a domain including both air and hunting, his senses were second to none. His nose never played tricks on him. And when he sniffed the air here, it told him there weren't any monsters within ten miles.

They had clearly spent time here, and lots of it, but the scents were old. He didn't know what to make of that.

"Where are Rio's forces?" Lelantos demanded.

The female guard looked back at him. Her riot mask blocked her features with its dark glass, but a ponytail of golden hair stuck out the base of the helmet.

"The mortal contingent is all here, my Lord," she said. "But there is a group of survivors in the next town over that haven't shown proper respect. Our leader decided it was time that they were reeducated, so most of our forces are out on the hunt."

Lelantos couldn't hold back his derisive snort.

"Is something the matter, my Lord?" asked the guard.

"Ignore it," he commanded.

Hunting, they called it. Was it a hunt when you attended a feast? Was it a hunt when you stepped on a bug? Crushing ordinary mortals with your full might held no challenge, and offered no thrill. Calling it a hunt was an insult to true sport.

He didn't get into any of that, though. There was no point in explaining the intricacies of his beautiful art to two grunts.

"We're here," the male guard announced.

Immediately, Lelantos forgot all his minor worries as he leaped to finish what he was here for so he could finally be on his way. As the guards took up new positions on either side of two double-doors, Lelantos yanked them open and stomped inside— without a sound, of course.

"Rio! What the Hades have you been doing?" he demanded.

The river god's office was just what Lealantos would've expected— stuffed cattle heads hung on the walls, the lighting was dim and saloon-like, and the broad desk at the center had a sheriff's badge tacked onto the front. A cottonmouth lay curled on the corner of the desk, raising its head to glare when Lelantos's entry disturbed its rest. The main occupant sat behind the desk in a chair with the back to Lelantos, only his cowboy hat sticking up into view. He didn't answer the question.

"Not even a word of greeting?" Lelantos said. "I don't think you realize your situation. I'm not the first governor Menoetius has sent to check on you. The others returned saying they couldn't even find you. Has kicking around weak mortals made you forget how weak you are?"

That, at least, he expected to get a reaction. If there was one emotion Rio could be relied on to display, it was pride. Lelantos was ready for anything, from a verbal attack to a bullet fired at his forehead.

He got nothing.

"At least have the decency to face me!"

Lelantos hurled his arm out and a strong gust of air rocked the room. Papers flew up from the desk. One of the cow heads was dislodged from the wall. The chair spun around.

Lelantos found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

A toy one, held in the hands of a little boy.

The redheaded child wearing Rio's hat grinned from ear to ear and pulled the trigger, raising the gun after it clicked as if a real bullet had fired out.

"Get fucked!" he said.

"Good work, Mikey," came the male guard's voice from outside of the door.

Every ounce of Lelantos's being screamed that he was in danger. He started to transform, calling on his wings to escape faster than the speed of sound.

Before he could so much as turn around, a punch smashed straight through the door. The last thing he saw were five curled fingers before they collided with his head and the lights turned off.

-

"That should hold," Calypso said, knocking invisible dust off of her hands as she finished her spell. Beneath where she was crouching lay Lelantos. The Titan was bound with what looked like regular rope, but looks could be deceiving. Calypso spent more than twenty minutes on whatever the spell was that created those. Whatever the ropes really were, I was glad I wasn't the one that was going to be trying to break free from them. 

Across the office from us, Mikey was still sitting in the chair. He looked a lot less happy now than when he'd been facing down a Titan. Which made sense, because his current opponent was far fiercer.

"You know you aren't supposed to talk like that!" Annie said for about the dozenth time, her arms crossed angrily. "You're helping with everyone's laundry for a full week— no, make that two weeks! And it'll be three if you won't tell me who taught you that word!"

Mikey looked pleadingly at me, and I was forced to turn away. I knew what fights were worth taking. 

"Shall we go?" Calypso asked, standing up. Lelantos rose into the air behind her.

I gestured toward the door. "After you."

Walking through the corridors of Spokane City Hall, I couldn't help but miss the open air football field of our old HQ. Getting a roof over peoples heads was worth sacrificing some fresh air for. What bothered me was this place. There were old smells worked into it, of monsters and tragedy, that I didn't need Grover's keen nose to catch.

"That's him, right?" I asked Calypso, trying to distract myself. "That's the governor we were after? I mean, you didn't cast a spell on him and send him away like the last ones, so I just kind of assumed this was who we wanted."

Calypso nodded. "Lelantos is who we were after, yes. His help will be necessary, whether he offers it willingly or not."

"You said we need him to get to your uncle?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. When Calypso nodded again, I said, "Why Lelantos specifically, though?"

Calypso opened her mouth before pausing.

"Let me show you," she said.

She made a few gestures, muttered something, and a new smell hit my nose: a brutal stink that wafted directly off of Calypso's skin. The scent was so awful that I recoiled. Then she stepped back, next to her passenger, and my nose was free again. I breathed in deeply… and got an even stronger nosefull as Calypso moved back to where we started.

"His domain is hunting and stealth," she said, the smell disappearing with an extra gesture of her hand. "His presence alone is enough to mask most things. If he sets his mind to something, even Artemis would be hard pressed to match his ability to hide. When it comes to moving others unnoticed, Lelantos might well be the best there is."

"Is not being noticed by your uncle really that important?" I asked.

In the weeks since Rio was destroyed, more than five other governors had been sent to check on the River God. Each time Calypso wove a spell on them and sent them back empty handed. We could've just moved and saved ourselves a ton of trouble, but she was adamant that we keep at it, all in the hope that the Titan currently bound in rope behind her would finally arrive.

We reached the elevator and Calypso pressed the button. As we waited for it to arrive, she turned to look at me.

"It is not Uncle that I am scared of," she said.

The elevator arrived. We stepped inside, and Lelantos floated in after us. Calypso hit the button for the second floor. 

"Something else lies in the West, beyond Uncle's fortress," she said when the doors hissed shut. "You should know. You've been there."

"Mt. Othrys," I said.

"Exactly. With San Francisco already taken, Uncle chose Los Angeles and the entrance to the Underworld to be his capital. That's why I ran here, to the corner of Washington. It was as far from him as I could get without straying from his domain. I hoped that would discourage pursuit, but… obviously Rio was not so inclined. Los Angeles is far enough from Mt. Othrys for us to perform a strike without having to watch our backs, but in order to get there…"

"We have to pass by," I finished for her.

"It won't be a problem," Calypso said. "Not now that we have this one."

She jabbed her thumb at Lelantos. The doors opened and we stepped outside.

The second floor of Rio's old base had seen more remodeling than any of the others. Cubicles that used to form grids all across the floor had been broken down to create one large open space. Couches and chairs had been pulled in from neighboring buildings, and tables had even been built for meals. Ever since Rio's defeat more of the people from the camp had seemingly come back to life. There was all around less loitering and more bustle from people doing things. It didn't matter if those things were cooking, building, or even just talking to others— anything was an improvement.

Calypso flicked her hand and Lelantos was pushed against the nearest wall, where her ropes melded to the surface like silly putty. It certainly didn't look like he was going to be going anywhere anytime soon. We moved deeper into the room toward an open table.

"Any more word from Thalia?" I asked, shifting topics.

Unconsciously, Calypso's eyes darted down to what looked like a diary clipped to her belt. From the outside the thing was completely normal, but I'd already seen the trick to it. Every time you wrote on one page, it would appear in another notebook exactly like it. Calypso claimed it was the most impressive item she'd ever enchanted. Its twin was in Thalia's possession whenever she traveled. Over a week ago Calypso had told her of our plans, urging her to come back if she could. When that didn't get a response, she wrote instead to meet us in Ashland, at the Oregon-California border.

That one got a single-word response.

'Ok.'

"Thalia is a free spirit," Calypso said carefully.

"So you haven't heard anything."

She pursed her lips.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," I said, injecting my words with all the optimism I could.

It wasn't that I didn't believe Thalia could handle herself. I knew just how tough the daughter of Zeus could be. I was just… a little too used to things going wrong by this point to buy into my old glass-half-full opinions.

"Before worrying about Thalia, shouldn't we worry about tonight?" Calypso reminded me gently.

I grimaced. "I was hoping to forget."

"I know. That's why I brought it up."

"It'll be fine," I said, and this time the confidence was only half-forced. "I've done this kind of thing before. Leading isn't completely new to me."

"You were leading heroes," Calypso reminded me. "Demigods like you, that were armed and could fight. These are not those. If they go with you, you could be leading helpless lives to their doom."

"That's why we're giving them a choice, isn't it?" 

"You need them," Calypso reminded me.

"I'll give it to them straight. They deserve that much, at least. Not all of them will turn away, I know it."

"I suppose we'll find out tonight," Calypso said, not sounding nearly as confident as I did.

My eyes drifted to the clock above the door. It wasn't accurate, of course— ever since Kronos's return time was slightly off even at the best of times. Mortal science never stood a chance against that. Looking at it was still a habit of mine, though, every time I thought about timing.

In just a few hours, I was going to have to talk people into risking their lives and the lives of everyone they knew based off of nothing but their trust in me.

I couldn't wait.