23. Fear And Trembling

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"Y/N!"

Annabeth kept calling his name as she held him, though she'd almost lost hope. He'd been unconscious for two minutes now. His body was steaming, his eyes rolled back in his head. She couldn't tell if he was even breathing.

"My child. . . ." Hera's voice grew close to sobs. "Oh, my child. . . ."

Annabeth hadn't seen the goddess go nuclear. Thankfully she'd closed her eyes, but she could see the aftereffects. Every vestige of winter was gone from the valley. No signs of battle, either. The monsters had been vaporized. The ruins had been restored to what they were before—still ruins, but with no evidence that they'd been overrun by a horde of wolves, storm spirits, and six-armed ogres.

Even the Hunters had been revived. Most waited at a respectful distance in the meadow, but Thalia stood by Annabeth's side, her hand on Annabeth's forehead.

Without looking away from Y/N, Annabeth shouted at the goddess, "This is your fault. Do something!"

Hera didn't answer.

"Fix him!" Annabeth turned to the queen of the gods, glowering at her. But when she saw Hera's face, she didn't know what to think.

Hera stood taller than her, but the goddess was back wearing her black mourning dress and her shawl. Her eyes flickered with power, and a ray of light fell on her face. She turned to Annabeth.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Softly she said, "I would never intentionally hurt my boy." If she'd been anyone but the queen of the gods, Annabeth wouldn't have thought her voice was hoarse because of pain. "I told you to close your eyes before I revealed my true form."

"Um. . . ." Leo frowned. "True form is bad, right? So why did you do it?"

"I unleashed my power to help you, fool!" Hera cried indignantly. "I became pure energy so I could disintegrate the monsters, restore this place, and even save these miserable Hunters from the ice. A wolf was leaping at my son's throat, he would've been killed had I done nothing!"

"But mortals can't look upon you in that form!" Annabeth shouted. "You've killed him!"

Jason shook his head in dismay. "That's what our prophecy meant. Death unleash, through Hera's cage. Come on. You're a goddess. Do some magic on him! Bring him back."

Suddenly Annabeth felt something. "He's breathing!" she announced.

"Impossible," Hera said. "I wish it were true, but my son was mortal, and no mortal has ever—"

"Y/N," Annabeth called. She could not lose him. "Listen to me. You can do this. Come back. You're going to be fine."

Nothing happened. Had she imagined his breath stirring?

"Healing is not a power of Athena," Hera said regretfully. "Even I cannot fix this, girl. One cannot heal death so easily. . . ."

"Y/N," Annabeth said again, and she wished her voice could've resonated through the earth, all the way down to the Underworld. "Wake up."

He gasped, and his eyes flew open. For a moment they were full of light—glowing pure gold. Then the light faded and his eyes were normal again. "What—what happened?"

"Impossible!" Hera said.

Annabeth wrapped him in a hug until he groaned, "Crushing me."

"Sorry," she said, so relieved that she laughed while wiping a tear from her eye.

Apparently forgetting her usual regal, haughty bearing, Hera gripped Y/N's hand. "How do you feel?"

"Hot," he muttered. "Mouth is dry. And I saw something . . . really terrible."

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