Child of The Sea

Helena Troy is a 16 year old girl who has known she was a Half-Blood since the age of nine. Unfortunately, her mother hadn't informed her of her godly father. During her time at Camp Half-Blood she discovers that she must go on a quest to save the gods. Will she save the Gods and the world? Or will the fate of the world tople to its knees in the hands of Helena?

{Please don't judge the book on the first few chapters... I was 13.}

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29. You know exactly what we're talking about

She got up and turned to Anateus, who ironically had a face like thunder. "Now can we talk?" She ventured.

"Fine." was his only response. "What is it that you want to know?"

"Where the hell is our Golden Fleece?"

 

*             *             *

 

"What number are you? 67?"

"What?" Helena was perplexed.

"You know, what number are you? Of Poseidon's children I mean?" he asked again.

"You know that's not what I asked." she wasn't going to back down that easily.

"Pardon? I don't know as to what you're implying." his hand clenched his chest, making him look like a six year.

"You know damned well what I'm asking! WHERE. THE. HELL. IS. OUR. GOLDEN. FLEECE?!" Helena had no patience for this man, it made no difference to her whether he was her 'brother' or Zeus. She was in no mood to be played with.

"How violent you sound, young one. You and I certainly are more alike than I thought when I first heard about you." he told her, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You and I? You and I are nothing alike. What the hell do you know about me?!" she was slowly losing the little patience she already bore.

"Much more than you know of me, it seems." he made a hand motion, one that none of the others recognised, except Helena herself. She felt a muscular arm grab hold of her own. If she did anything now, it would compromise the whole 'just talk to him' bit she had down. "Seriously? You're going to use violence against me?!" Helena practically screamed. I guess the calm talk approach was thrown out of the window. "Get your hands off me, now." It was safe to say the creature did not comply to Helena's request. "Seriously? I have to do this myself then?!" She grabbed hold of the muscular arm, twisted it and pulled herself into a roll, pulling the creature with her. She made it to her feet, discarding the creature on the floor.

 

She finally a good look at her captor. A Cyclops. Not bad for a girl of her size, Helena thought. He was getting up, he was well over 8ft. Helena only stood at 5'7ft. His eyes were filled with anger. He was ready to kill. Helena was not, however. She was able to move in time, to see the Cyclops collapsed on the floor, a certain dagger stuck in his back, with a victorious Annabeth standing above him. Helena felt hot breath on the back of her neck, she reached for her sword. "By the way, that back there was awesome." Mark. Suddenly the hot breath was oddly comforting. She heard a little cough and she was sad when the warmth at the back of neck disappeared.  

 

"Ah, Percy Jackson. My old brother. I've missed you." Antaeus started.

"Cut the crap. Where is our Fleece?!" Percy asked. He, just as his sister, was not prepared for Antaeus to beat around the bush.

"It's been so long. How was Tartaru-" he started.

"Antaeus. WHERE THE HELL IS OUR FLEECE?!" Helena asked. Her patience had finally run out.

"You see, I don't have it." Antaeus told them.

"What? Then who has it?" Helena asked.

 

"Bring out Kronos."

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