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Annabeth was the first one to comment on it, of course.
“Percy, what does this mean again?” she asked.
Percy looked over from his textbook. “It's just one of the fragments from the sibylline books. It's the one that predicted that I'd drown in Alaska.”
“And what, you just have the Latin for that one memorized?”
“No? I just read it? Cause you know, our brains automatically translate the Latin? I've still got the dyslexia but I don't have any of the usual problems.”
“Percy, that's not normal for Greek demigods. I'm still struggling with Latin and it's been months since Gaea fell,” Annabeth said. “You know this.”
“Yeah, but I thought it was just because of the whole Minerva thing,” Percy said, confused. He knew Camp Jupiter's treatment of Athena had caused a lot of problems for Annabeth in the past, and this had seemed like the same thing. “Returning the Parthenos hasn't helped?”
Annabeth shook her head.
“We'll have to test it. Get the reactions of the other demigods, see how they deal with it?”
Percy shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”
Annabeth hadn’t had the chance to ask anyone at Camp about Latin yet when she noticed the first unusual thing about Sally Jackson. Percy’s mom had always been delightful, and she was absolutely not ashamed to admit to spending some time with his family just to be with them.
In particular, Sally was tending to the little planter box that had sat outside Percy’s window since shortly after the Battle of the Labyrinth, and Annabeth was pretending she didn’t have any homework. She’d seen Sally tend to it, while Percy was gone, but she’d never asked what was in it before, or why it was there. It seemed too personal, when he’d been at best, missing for months.
“What’s that plant, Sally?” Annabeth asked.
“Oh, it’s something Percy brought home after one of his quests. He used to take care of it all on his own, before, well, before he disappeared. After that, taking care of it kind of fell to me. It didn’t really like when Paul took care of it. Even doing the exact same thing, it always seemed a little more wilted when he did it. So I stuck to it.”
Annabeth frowned, and sat up in Percy’s bed. That was not normal plant behavior. “Do you know what kind of plant it is?”
“No. I’ve never seen anything like it, to be honest. Percy never told me where he got it, but he always got a sad look in his eye, the same one he gets when enough stars come out, so I knew better than to ask,” Sally said.
A thought occurred to Annabeth. One explanation for Percy’s ability with Latin was that he was a Roman legacy, in addition to being a Greek demigod. If Percy was a legacy, then Sally would be one too, obviously.
As it turned out, Percy was one of the only demigods in camp who didn’t struggle. Many of the Apollo demigods didn’t experience much trouble, Jason, obviously, didn’t but he was Roman, so that made perfect sense. Nearly all the Athena demigods struggled with Latin nearly as much as every other language.
Personally, Percy thought it could be related to the fact that he was a kid of the Big Three. It was more likely than him somehow also being a Roman legacy.
“Hey, Nico, can I run something by you?” Percy asked. It was one of the few nights these days when nothing was happening and neither of them were spending time with Annabeth or Will respectively.
“What is it now, Seaweed Brain?” Nico asked.
“Well, Annabeth has this theory, and personally I’m not too sold on it, but you know how we can read Latin, right? Our–”
“No,” Nico interrupted him.
“What?”
“I had to do a lot of practice with my father before I could play Ambassador to Pluto. Latin’s different enough from Italian that it was playing hell with my mind.”
“Huh. Really?”
“Yeah, really, Percy. What, did you think I would pull your leg about it just for shits and giggles?”
“No. Just … odd. I didn’t even have that much trouble in Chiron’s Latin class.”
“He taught you Latin?”
“It’s what the school had. He did cover a frankly obvious amount of Greek myths, in hindsight.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah. Huh.”
“Hey Sally, can you read this for me?” Annabeth asked.
Sally frowned. “Are you sure?” Annabeth knew how much she tried to keep from relying on anyone when it came to her dyslexia. She knew Sally knew this. It grated her so much, that there could be so much information out there, if only she could read it. And of course, she couldn’t. It had always been a sore point for her. So, she fought to keep anyone from noticing it, to keep it from ever holding her back, even if she wasn’t entirely successful. She had to be perfect, because what was she if she wasn’t?
“Yeah, just this bit. I’ve already got a bit of a headache and I don’t want to make it worse,” she said, which was true, just omitting the fact that she already knew very well what the paper said.
For some unknowable reason, Sally smiled, and read off the paper effortlessly, not even paying too close attention to it.
It was written in Latin, not English. And Sally didn’t notice, or, at the very least, didn't comment..
It didn’t confirm anything. Annabeth wouldn’t be surprised if Sally had taught herself Latin to help Percy with his courses in school, or after learning about the other camp, just in case. But it also didn’t rule out Percy having more heritage than just Poseidon. She preferred to focus on that, rather than the sting at the casual ease with which Sally had read.
She never admitted it to anyone, but sometimes she resented Percy’s mother for her career, built on the one thing that some days she could not do.
The members of the Seven that could make it to New York were sitting on the beach at Camp, watching the waves roll in. It had been two months since the world had nearly come to an end, and they were still sorting everything out.
“Percy, what if the reason you can understand Latin is because you’re a Legacy?” Annabeth asked, sitting down in the chair next to him.
“Well, Annabeth, if I’m a Roman legacy, then who’d be my ancestor on that side?” Percy asked.
“Wait, Percy’s a legacy?” Hazel asked.
“Allegedly. It’s a theory of hers, although I don’t know if I believe it. My mom would’ve had to have known, if just from being chased by monsters her whole life,” Percy said.
“But it’s why Frank is so powerful, isn’t it? It could explain why you’re more powerful than expected, even for Poseidon. And why you know Latin instinctually,” Annabeth shook her head. “But I’m getting us off topic. There’s a couple of potential candidates. Ceres, for one, since you and Sally are both good with that plant of yours. There are plenty of different sea deities that you could also be descended from, and it wouldn’t even be that noticeable over Poseidon.”
“I could see it. What about Apollo?” Nico asked.
“No way, I can’t shoot a bow at all,” Percy denied.
“Will isn’t great with a bow either,” Nico replied. “And you’re actually pretty good with other projectiles.”
“Mars, maybe? You were able to beat Ares when you were twelve, and an innate sense for combat would explain so much,” Hazel suggested.
“I really don’t want Frank to also be my great-something uncle, that would be too far. No offense, Frank.”
“None taken,” Frank said.
“What about Jupiter? Grover told me you summoned a storm when defending Olympus. Or maybe Fortuna? You’ve always been strangely lucky.” Jason said.
“It could only be someone far enough back to not have been a candidate for the Great Prophecy. And lucky? Me? Are you kidding me? I have awful luck. I dunno guys. I don’t really think I’m a legacy. Wouldn’t my Roman ancestor have claimed me last summer? Maybe I’m just better with Latin because of Chiron’s class when I was a kid.”
“Are we not going to go over the bit about the plant? Plant powers could be important.”
“No,” Percy said. “It’s not plant powers. It’s something else.”
Percy really didn’t want to go to Quebec. But someone needed to represent his father in negotiation with Boreas over the interaction between the jet stream and the North Atlantic storms, and something kept his immortal goddess of storms sister from going.
When he’d complained about it to Annabeth, her only comment was a suggestion to tag in Piper, or perhaps Drew. He didn’t want to pull her away from spending time with Shel, but she was much more preferable company, especially when he wanted to avoid offending anyone. He liked Drew just fine, but he also knew when not to bring her along, and trying to avoid pissing off even more gods while he’s actually representing his father is definitely one of them.
So it was with Piper that he found himself in Quebec City in December, shivering slightly against the cold.
“Annabeth said you’ve been here before?” Percy asked, looking up at a towering building with a green and gold peak.
“My first quest. I was here with Jason and Leo. Khione tried to kill us for Gaea. She did not like me,” Piper said.
“Well, I’m pretty sure we’ll be fine today. Dad wouldn’t have sent me along if he thought I’d be in any danger.”
“Why are you doing this anyway, Percy? I thought you were done with quests after your letters?”
“And I thought you were done with quests after meeting Shel,” Percy replied, smiling to show he was joking. “I think Kym was being a bit of a brat, and Dad has always wanted me to be a little more involved with his domain, like Nico is with the Underworld. If it was anything truly dangerous, he would’ve made Kym go, or Triton, instead of getting me.”
Piper hummed, but didn’t say anything more until they reached the doors, which were guarded.
“Hello again, Zethes, Cal. I hope no one is expected to be killed today. We left our children of Zeus at home.”
“Ah, the lovely Piper,” Zethes began.
“Still off-limits, Zethtes,” she reminded him. “I have a girlfriend now.”
“A shame, we would make a lovely couple, the two most famous demigods of all time, immortalized forever in the north.”
“Hey, she said she’s off-limits, dude,” Percy said. He didn’t know who this Zethes guy was, but flirting with a gal who just said she’s in a relationship was not a good start.
“Relax. I know she would never take me. She made that quite clear during our first encounter, isn’t that right, Cal?”
“Hockey!” Cal agreed.
“Okay I know the thing here is all cold, but y’all better not be Penguins fans,” Percy replied. “Or Rangers, but I’ll admit that makes less sense.”
“Habs!” Cal denied.
Percy squinted. “You’re alright. I suppose. But I’ve got my eye on you Zethes, until Piper says otherwise.”
“What brings two of the heroes of Olympus to my father’s home?”
“Business for my dad. Annabeth said I should bring Piper, so, I did.”
“Translation?” Zethes asked.
Piper nodded.
“Well, I should let you two go up. Don’t get turned into an icicle, Piper McLean. It would be a shame to have to look at your frozen body for eternity.”
Percy glanced at Piper, but she only gave him a knowing smile and shrugged. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Boreas would be in so much trouble if he so much as touched you.”
Percy paled when he saw the elevator. It wasn’t gilded, at least, but that didn’t stop his heart rate from spiking as he stepped in. He barely held himself back from hitting the e-stop. If the music had been the same, he might have needed the stairs.
Percy had to admit, Boreas’s throne room wasn’t too bad. Out of all the various throne rooms he’s seen, it’s probably not his least favorite. The decor is a little heavy on the purple, and his fashion sense could use an upgrade from Greek God 101, but, the theme is coherent, and less traumatizing than his uncle’s, although that could also be that he’s no longer twelve.
As Percy and Piper crunched over the thin layer of snow coating the hall, Boreas sat on a throne of ice, and ice sculptures of warriors flanked the halls.
Boreas said something Percy didn’t understand, in another language.
“The king asks what business brings two of the most notorious demigods in centuries to his door. Especially the one who released Typhon, and one who has been here before, and knows my feelings as such.”
“My father has sent me to negotiate with you, Boreas,” Percy said.
Boreas flickered, and instead of the well built man with long, icy hair and beard, Percy saw a clean shaven man with shorter hair, holding a gladius, instead of a scepter. And then, before he could react, the man, presumably the roman form of Boreas, was gone, replaced with Boreas once again.
His legion tattoo itched.
“What does your father want that he sends you for, boy?” Boreas asked, in English. “He knows my quarrel with you, and he surely has other, much more suitable children to negotiate with a god.”
Percy blinked.
“He’s concerned about the strength of the storm cells being affected by the jet stream in the north atlantic. He said my sister didn’t want to come, but since it was urgent, he needed to send someone, rather than wait for her to get over her tantrum,” Percy said.
Piper glanced over at him, surprised, while Boreas’s mouth simply twitched.
“Curious. Well, Perseus Jackson, tell me what changes your father wants.”
He glanced at Piper, but she only shrugged.
For the rest of the conversation, Percy kept running the brief flicker of the Roman Boreas, and the switch to English, in his head.
Zestes clapped him on the back as they were leaving. “A great hero, and a silver tongue? Annabeth Chase is lucky I have heard of her rage, or perhaps I would be trying to steal you for myself.”
Percy blinked. That did not clear anything up. Not at all.
The cincher came when going through records at Camp Jupiter for Frank and Hazel. Because yeah sure, he was technically Praetor even if it was only for like, maybe a month at most, or a few days if you counted the Argo II incident as his firing (which he did). No matter what perspective he argued, he had been raised to the rank of Praetor.
And only Praetors and former Praetors had the clearance required for this type of record reorganization. At the very least, the records were all written in Latin. If he’d had to work his way through English records for hours, he might have gone insane. At the very least, Percy concluded, he definitely would have made way less progress.
It had been a few months without any developments, so he’d forgotten all about Annabeth’s theory, up until he reached the J section.
Percy expected to find his own name in there, near the top. There weren’t many names that started with a J that also came before Jackson, alphabetically. But there was a name he didn’t expect to find right above his.
Estelle Laura Jackson née Martinez, Daughter of Venus. 1939-1975, Fifth Cohort 1945-1955.
Percy nearly dropped Riptide. It could be a coincidence, some random demigod that had the exact same name as his Grandma Estelle. There were plenty of people in the United States. He braced himself, and searched for her personnel file.
Estelle joined the Twelfth Legion in 1945, and served for the mandatory ten years, before living in New Rome for fourteen years. Estelle moved to New York with her mortal husband Jim Jackson in 1969, against the advice of her Praetors and the Augur. On a trip back to New Rome, Estelle and her husband died in a plane crash in 1975, survived by their daughter Sally, who was put into the care of Jim Jackson’s brother, Richard.
In spindly handwriting that is annoyingly difficult for him to read, there was another note.
Some of Estelle’s former questmates and companions in the Fifth Cohort requested a quest to retrieve Sally, so she may learn about her mother’s world, and since she is old enough, to serve in the legion. Upon Lupa’s advice, and in light of the recent disaster led by Michael Varus, the request has been denied. The message is clear. Romans are not to travel to New York, and if Sally is to serve in the legion, she must make her way to the Wolf House on her own. It is regrettable, but the Legion will not act against the Gods, especially not for the sake of the Fifth.
That expunged any final doubts he’d held. His mom was a legacy. She wasn’t just clear-sighted, like they’d always thought, but she was a genuine descendent of the Gods, but because her parents had died when she was so young, she’d never been told.
And Annabeth was right. Again. She wouldn’t let him live this one down any time soon.
There was a glow, and Percy looked down to find his clothes totally transformed. He’d heard of this from Piper. Instead of a faded camp shirt and his jeans, he was now wearing an elegant toga and sandals. And his nails were done. Percy was sure that if he checked in a mirror, he’d find a new piercing somewhere, or perhaps some subtle makeup. The final straw was his legion tattoo. Somehow, without him noticing, in addition to the trident burned on his arm, there was now a dove.
If this was real, if it wasn’t just another trick from the gods, then it meant Estelle would never get to know the peaceful life he’d dreamt of for her. She would have to train, either here or at Camp Half-Blood, and she would have to fight and struggle to survive. She would have to go on quests, same as he has, and her status as his baby sister would certainly make her an easy target.
His breaths were coming in short and quick, now. She would be a target and he would only make it worse. His mom had it more than rough enough with him - now she would be a target again, and she wouldn’t even know why, and him and Annabeth’s presence would draw even more. Neither of them would experience the protection of mortals, unlike Annabeth’s half siblings Bobby and Matthew.
Percy saw the dove on his arm, and all he could think of was the brand for Perdix that Athena seared onto Daedalus’s skin. This dove might not mean the same thing yet, but Percy knew better than to hope. He was a danger to his family, just by being around them. And he couldn’t tell them. The Legion’s membership records were sealed, and for good reason. He would need at least approval from Frank and Hazel, if not also the Senate.
“Peace, Grandson,” a familiar voice said.
Percy glanced up from his arm and saw Venus standing before him. Unlike Aphrodite, she didn’t borrow Annabeth’s appearance. Instead, she looked remarkably like his mom, although a little different. Perhaps this was what his Grandma Estelle looked like. Her eyes were the same sea green as his own and his baby sister. That, more than anything else, gave him pause. He’d always thought he got his eyes from his father.
“What brings you here, Venus?”
Her frown was the same as Sally’s when he woke in the middle of the night screaming. “Can I not visit my favorite great-grandson? Especially when I saw how upset he became at his own claiming?”
“Is there something you need from me? Is – is this real, or just some way to get another quest out of me?”
“No, of course not. This is all real, Perseus. Juno prevented me from laying claim to you when you came to Camp Jupiter originally, and bade that I could only reveal this to you should you discover it on your own.”
“Can I tell mom?” Percy asked.
“Of course. I could take you to her now, and we could both see her, and little Estelle.”
“Are you sure?”
“The source might be controlled information, but your status as my legacy is not. The cupcake shop I wished to send you to, for your letter, was owned by a friend of Estelle’s. She would have recognized her old friend in you in an instant.”
Percy took a deep breath. “Okay. But can I do something first?”
“Do what you need,” Venus said.
Percy picked up Riptide, and scrawled an addendum to his own personnel listing.
Percy Jackson, Son of Neptune Poseidon and Legacy of Venus. Fifth Cohort 2015, former Praetor. NRU 2017-2021.
“Will this at least fade soon enough? I have a date with Annabeth out on the plaza’s open air market tonight.”
Venus smiled, at once proud and predatory. “Of course not. You should ask your Aunt Piper how long her blessing lasted. And that was before she’d ever even gone on any quests. You, my dear, have done much more.”
Percy sighed, holding his hand out for Venus to take. He knew better than to pick a fight with an Olympian over something that small. He blinked his eyes, and found himself back in his mom’s apartment in New York. His mom was faced away from them, sipping a mug of something warm as she watched Estelle play on the floor. Estelle was just about old enough now that she had to be watched when playing, or she could cause some serious problems for herself, and everyone else.
“Hey, uh Mom? Can I talk to you? I found something out about our family,” Percy said.
Sally turned to look at him and Venus, and when she did, she dropped her mug, which shattered on the floor, spilling tea.
“Mom?” she whispered.
“Not quite, darling. Your mother was a daughter of mine.”
Sally squinted. “Venus?”
“Precisely. You've always seen so clearly. Estelle was going to tell you, after her trip.”
“What about Hecate? She said I was simply a mortal.”
“You were practically standing on top of the Greek camp, Sally. If she'd told you about your heritage and made your way to Chiron? It would have been too risky. But I think she took some pleasure in causing problems for Estelle. Trivia never liked her.”
Percy bit his tongue to refrain from muttering unflattering opinions about Hecate.
“Why? Why now?”
“This is the soonest I was allowed. But I have been watching, you know. I have only been able to interfere lightly, but it was not an accident that you found Goode.”
“You – you set me up with Paul?”
“Oh nothing so crass. I hardly had to do anything at all, really. You did all the real work with Paul all on your own,” Venus said.
“I don't have time for a quest, if that's your motivation,” Sally said. “I need to take care of Estelle.”
“Would you rather raise her here, where you know monsters can get to her, or would you rather raise her in the safety of New Rome? I'm sure I don't need to remind you of Percy's own childhood.”
“No, but,” Sally frowned. “I don’t want to rip Paul away from his life here. And I certainly would not be able to raise a child if I am also expected to be serving in the Legion.”
“Sally, I’m home!” Paul called into the apartment. “You would not believe what the students in my – oh. Hello. I thought you were going to be stuck in New Rome for a few more days, Percy?”
“I had the opportunity to visit my great-grandson, once he realized the truth of his parentage. And he wanted to bring word home to my granddaughter. Olympus knows she’s been ignorant of her mother’s life long enough.”
Paul blinked, took his glasses off, polished them, and put them back on. “I’m sorry, who are you? I’m still getting used to all of this, I guess you could say.”
“I am Venus, the Roman Goddess of Love, of course. And, Sally, my dear. The Praetors already mandated recognition within the Legion for the heroes of the Battle of Manhattan. I am certain that there are many who would support a Roman who fought in the name of the gods.”
Percy saw the way his mom’s eyes slid over to him. She wanted him to know she wasn’t buying even an ounce of what Venus was selling, but was smart enough not to say so out loud. They both knew that would spell the end of this unusually kind behavior from Venus.
“She’s actually not wrong. There’s a lot of factions that weren’t too happy about the Greeks getting all the glory from that. There’d definitely be at least a few who’d salivate over knowing you were there.”
Sally looked from where Estelle was playing back over to Percy and Venus.
“I’ll have to think about it.”
Estelle Blofis-Jackson scrambled into the senate building. She was late, and she was glad that Terminus insisted on no weapons or armor inside city limits. While her mom’s gladius or even one of her own darts might have been comforting, her legionnaire armor would have clanked, loudly, and it would have slowed her down.
As she sidled into the senate hall, Estelle glanced at all the senators in the hall. Most of them didn’t pay her much mind, although one of the centurions from the Third was glaring at her. She wasn't certain if the glare was from something she'd done, if he was salty that she'd gone to the Fifth, rather than his, as a legacy from a rather well-known family, or if it was simple jealousy over how much the Fifth had changed its position within the Legion over the recent years.
Estelle fiddled with her probatio tablet, waiting. She watched as the praetors – and it was definitely for the best to think of them as their rank in the legion, and not her Aunt Hazel and Uncle Frank – took their places at the podium.
It was the Feast of Vulcanalia, the date when most of the recruits to the legion, the legacies with family in New Rome, joined, and then one year later, became fully-fledged members of the twelfth legion, with all the rights and responsibilities that entailed.
Frank – no, Praetor Zhang – gestured to her to step forward out of line, and to the center of the hall.
“We accept Estelle Jackson-Blofis, Legacy of Venus, to the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, for her first year of service. Do you pledge your life to the senate and people of Rome?” asked Praetor Levesque.
“I do,” Estelle managed, her voice sounding squeaky even to herself.
In unison, even the senator who was still glaring at her shouted. “Senatus Populusque Romanus!”
Her arm burned, and it stung, badly, like the time she’d run into a whole nest of basilisks with Abby. She gritted her teeth, and tried to ignore the pain. After about thirty seconds, the pain subsided, and in its place, she had the traditional SPQR tattoo, with one bar for her year of service, and a dove for her great-something-grandmother, Venus. The same tattoo as her mother, and a similar one to what her brother had. She smiled, despite the pain, at the connection to her family.
“Estelle Blofis-Jackson, Legacy of Venus, first year of service!” announced Praetor Zhang, a broad grin on his face.
Centurion Lavinia clapped her on the shoulder encouragingly. “I told you it’d be fine, even if you were a little late. Always a little late, just like a certain other Jackson I could name.”
Her brother, Percy Jackson, Ambassador of Neptune, smiled down at her kindly from his seat. She knew he didn’t approve of her joining the Legion, but she wanted to prove herself, and if she was going to deal with the realities of their lives, then she would need the experience. At least in New Rome, she would be in less danger. Her fellow Legionnaires would have her back, and she would be among her fellow Romans. She was looking forward to all the adventures she would get to have over the next decade, even if Percy and their parents weren’t.