AUTHOR'S NOTE AND PREFACE: This is a crossover fanfiction, containing characters, places, items, concepts, and events from Percy Jackson and the Olympians, The Heroes of Olympus, Maximum Ride, The Mortal Instruments, Artemis Fowl, The Pendragon Adventure, Inception, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and Calvin and Hobbes, with walk-on characters from Diary of a Wimpy Kid, The Middle, and the Fudge books. It contains original characters, all of whom can be quite irritating. I will not be offended if you don't like them. This story follows the arc of The Last Olympian, takes place in the aftermath of Fang, and contains some events from the beginning of City of Bones.

WARNING: Since this story, by its nature as a crossover, is somewhat Alternate Universe, please don't be offended if things happen differently than they did in the originals. Pairings might get split up or put together strangely, back-stories might be different, and anyone can die.

DISCLAIMER: I am not Rick Riordan, James Patterson, Cassandra Clare, Eoin Colfer, D.J. MacHale, Christopher Nolan, J.R.R. Tolkien (may he rest in peace), C.S. Lewis (may he rest in peace), Bill Watterson, Jeff Kinney, anyone from the ABC network, or Judy Blume. I doubt any of you thought I was. That said, I do not own the rights to most of the characters, places, items, concepts, and events in this story. There. Now we can proceed.


PROLOGUE, SCENE ONE

The athletic youth climbed out of the taxi and stood on the curb at the gate of the Dare mansion.

Percy shook off his hood, letting snowflakes settle in his hair. This place always made him nervous. Having grown up in a crammed little Queens apartment, he couldn't imagine living every day in such a grand house as this.

He hoped Rachel felt better now than when she'd called him last night. Was she always so unhinged? Or just around him, dealing with all his problems?

A familiar prickly sensation scuttled down his spine. Someone was watching him.

Please don't be Annabeth, Percy thought. Half of him was smitten with that grey-eyed girl from Camp, who he'd known since nearly the beginning of his adventures. The other half was enchanted by the vivacious clear-sighted mortal whose house he stood at the gate of. Last summer he'd seen that neither girl could stand to be within fifty miles of the other. If Annabeth had followed him here, there were going to be fireworks.

Percy slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, where he kept his very special pen. Slowly he turned his head.

There were actually two people staring at him; boys about his age, maybe a little older. One was even more tanned and wiry-muscled than Percy. His friend was over six feet tall and thin as a willow-wand, pale as the falling snow. Both wore their hair long; the tanned one was blond, and the pale one had black hair. Both were dressed head to toe in black. The blond carried a knife, his friend a bow and quiver. The long sleeves of their black coats couldn't quite conceal the swirling black tattoos that went all the way up their arms.

Percy knew them—not well, but better than he'd like to.

He waited for a pause in traffic, and then ran across the street to face them.

"Lightwood, Wayland," he barked. "What are you doing here?"

The blond smiled—a strange, bright white, somewhat lopsided smile. His yellow eyes bulged. Percy knew someone else who now had bright yellow eyes. He liked that guy even less than these two.

"We're watching you, Jackson," he drawled. "What does it look like we're doing?"

"I figured that out. Why are you watching me?"

"The same reason you and your friends watch us," muttered the tall pale boy.

"Well, not the exact same reason," his friend mused. "Annabeth Chase, for example, watches us because she appreciates my stunning good looks."

"Shut up, Jace," Percy hissed. "You're just saying that to make me angry."

He knew Annabeth still had a crush on Luke Castellan—despite Luke going all evil on them and plotting to destroy the cosmos. Her taste was not always good. But she'd never give a swaggering bully like Jace a second glance—or would she?

"If I did, it's working." Jace started picking the dirt from under his fingernails with his dagger, looking like he'd rather put the blade to a more exciting purpose, such as hacking off Percy's head and hanging it up on his wall next to all his giant posters of himself.

Percy felt anger rise in him like a tidal wave but decided not to take the bait. "Do you know who lives in that house across the street?" he asked in a tight voice.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," stated Jace's friend. "The mundane that has the nerve to see through our glamours and act like she's part of our world."

"Rachel can't help having the Sight!" Percy exclaimed. "She doesn't want any part in our world, but it keeps sucking her in, putting her in danger. She thinks it's a curse. It's a terrible drain on her."

"So why did you look so perturbed when you climbed out of that taxi?" Jace smirked. "Are you and Rachel up to something…dangerous? Subversive?...Demonic, perhaps?"

"Jace, that's going too far," murmured his friend.

"No it's not, Alec. You agree with me. You're just too chicken to say it out loud."

Percy had often wondered why Alec stuck with Jace when Jace so often verbally abused him like that. In fact, Percy pitied Alec. Despite his good looks and archery skills, the boy always seemed miserable. But Alec was such a maladjusted jerk already that Percy never felt sorry for him for longer than five minutes.

He took his pen out of his pocket and uncapped it. As it morphed into a long bronze sword, it drove Alec and Jace back a few feet.

"I don't know how to break this to you gentlemen, but the world does not in fact revolve around you. We demigods have better things to do with our time than try to annoy you Nephilim."

"Such as get a bit too friendly with clear-sighted mundanes who have ulterior motives?" asked Jace, who—as you've probably noticed by now—never knew when enough was enough.

"No. The things we do are so important; we can't tell silly little children like you anything about them."

He turned back, leaving them gaping at the insult. Looking over his shoulder he added a parting shot: "Perhaps you fellas could learn something from me—like protecting vulnerable and confused people like Rachel, instead of trying to kill them."