trinity-mia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the titan's curse

0.1 a sense of foreboding

warnings : cussing, a mrs. claus outfit, an unending sense of dread... i don't think there was anything else this chapter

word count : 3.4k

0.1 Something Tells Me This Isn't Going to End Well

I hadn’t wanted to leave Camp Half-Blood once I went back after my almost-deadly night out. Luke didn’t want me out of his sight, either. Unfortunately, I’d made some prior commitments and needed to grace the cover of Vogue for the I-don’t-even-know-how-many-ith time. 

That's how I ended up wearing a stereotypical, close-to-slutty Mrs. Claus outfit and in a limo with Luke, Thalia, and Brylie going to a boarding school. It was an eight-hour drive from Manhattan to Bar Harbour and we all hadn't spoken together for about two weeks, considering I'd been very busy, but even still, we hardly talked on the way there. 

Part of that was because we didn't want to have our usual conversations in front of Bry, and the other part was because the task we were about to have to partake in kept us quiet. Plus, the blizzard was giving us another worry, considering if we ran off the road, it wouldn't be too good for us. 

I’d spent most of the drive trying to figure out the lyrics to the song that had driven me to drink two weeks prior, to no avail. Everytime I hit a wall in my mind I scowled at nothing in front of me. 

Finally, Garrett, my personal chauffeur, pulled up to Westover Hall, the boarding school we needed to be at. He stopped the car and while we waited for him to walk around and open the door, Thalia wiped off the fog from one of the windows and peered outside. "Oh, yeah. This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like this is where Bill Belichick lives?" I joked. I saw Luke give me a grin, but Thalia, who was still adjusting to being alive again, hadn't really heard of the Patriot's past football dynasty and the jokes that came with it.

Westover Hall looked like an evil knight's castle. It was all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. It stood on a snowy cliff overlooking this big frosty forest on one side and the gray churning ocean on the other. Essentially, where a non-patriots fan assumed Bill Belichick lived.

"Thanks for the ride, Gare," I said, as we climbed out. He grabbed our respective bags and handed them to us. 

"Of course, Miss Jackson. Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I'd be happy to wait while you all go in."

"No, thank you. We have another way back." Truthfully, we didn't, but I figured it wouldn't be too difficult to find one. I didn't notice until Luke pushed my hand down, but I'd been fiddling with Riptide in necklace form. 

"Alright. Do call if you need me."

"I will." And with that, he got back in the warm limo and carefully drove off. 

The Mrs. Claus outfit did little to save me from the elements. Despite the long boots covering most of my legs, the piercing wind settled into my veins due to not having long sleeves. 

Without a word, Luke shrugged off his coat and settled it over my shoulders. He hardly even spared me a second glance, making the move as though it was second nature. As though he hadn’t even thought it through before doing it. I opened my mouth to argue, claim he needed the warmth of his own jacket, but before I could, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, securing his jacket in place, and using the leverage to move the two of us quickly toward the large set of doors. 

"I wonder what he found here that made him send the distress call," Brylie said timidly from behind Luke and I. 

I stared up at the dark towers of Westover Hall, a sense of foreboding settling over my bones. 

"Nothing good," Luke guessed from beside me.

Thalia and I shot him exasperated looks as Brylie's face grew fearful. She was fourteen, almost fifteen, but she'd had a very rough childhood, so many things scared her. It was a wonder she asked to go with us, much less be given permission. 

The oak doors groaned open and we walked in with a dramatic flurry of snow following behind us. The place was huge. The walls were lined with battle flags and weapon displays: antique rifles, battle axes, and a bunch of other stuff. I mean, I knew Westover was a military school and all, but the decorations seemed like overkill. Literally.

My hands went immediately to my weapons; my left to Shaker in bracelet form on my right wrist and my right hand to Riptide in necklace form around my neck. I could already sense something wrong in this place. Something dangerous. Thalia was rubbing her silver bracelet, her favorite magic item. I knew we were thinking the same thing. A fight was coming. 

Luke started to say, "I wonder where—" The doors slammed shut behind us. 

"Okay," I mumbled. "Guess we'll stay awhile."

I could hear music echoing from the other end of the hall. It sounded like dance music.

We stashed our overnight bags behind a pillar and started down the hall. We hadn't gone very far when I heard footsteps on the stone floor, and a man and woman marched out of the shadows to intercept us. 

They both had short gray hair and black military-style uniforms with red trim. The woman had a wispy mustache, and the guy was clean-shaven, which seemed kind of backward to me. They both walked stiffly, like they had broomsticks taped to their spines. 

"Well?" the woman demanded. "What are you doing here?"

I shot Luke a pointed look, silently demanding him to use his Hermes-acquired lying skills to get us out of this. Thankfully, he understood, if the wink he gave me was any indicator. 

"Ma'am," he began in a soothing way that allowed him to lie so easily, "we were just—"

"Ha!" The man snapped, which made the four of us jump. "Visitors are not allowed at the dance! You shall be eee-jected!"

He had an accent-most likely French. While I was learning French, my teachers had me saying most of the words with the letter 'j' in them like that, at least. His nostrils flared when he spoke and he had two different colored eyes: one brown and one blue— like an alley cat's. 

Finally, knowing we wouldn't be getting out of this without doing it, I stepped forward and snapped my fingers. The sound came out sharp and loud, signaling that I'd done it right, and a gust of wind rippled from my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thalia smirk and Luke giving me a confused look. 

"But, sir," I started, "we aren't visitors. We go to school here. Remember? I'm Allie and that's Thalia, Luke, and Brylie. We're in the eighth grade."

My lie wasn't remotely believable, but unless they were monsters, they'd believe it. 

The man narrowed his two-colored eyes, but he seemed to be hesitating. He looked at his colleague. "Ms. Gottschalk, do you know these students?" 

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. A teacher named Got Chalk? He had to be kidding. The woman blinked, like someone had just woken her up from a trance. 

"I... yes. I believe I do, sir." She frowned at us. "Allie. Thalia. Luke. Brylie. What are you doing away from the gymnasium?" 

Before we could answer, I heard more footsteps, and Grover ran up, breathless. "You made it! You—"

He stopped short when he saw the teachers. "Oh, Mrs. Gottschalk. Dr. Thorn! I, uh—"

"What is it, Mr. Underwood?" said the man. His tone made it clear that he detested Grover. "What do you mean, they made it? These students live here."

Grover swallowed. "Yes, sir. Of course, Dr. Thorn. I just meant, I'm so glad they made... the punch for the dance! The punch is great. And they made it!"

Dr. Thorn glared at us. He looked like he wanted to pitch us off the castle's highest tower, but then Mrs. Gottschalk said dreamily, "Yes, the punch is excellent. Now run along, all of you. You are not to leave the gymnasium again!"

We didn't wait to be told twice. We left with a lot of "Yes, ma'ams" and "Yes, sirs" and a couple of salutes, just because it seemed like the thing to do.

Grover hustled us down the corridor, probably to where the gymnasium was. Thalia moved closer to me.

"I still don't know how you do it," she muttered. "Chiron started teaching me once I came back to life, but I haven't been able to get the hang of it."

"I don't really know. It took me like a year and a half to get it perfect, though. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. You've only been back for less than five months," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. 

"That's true," she said and threw her arm around me, the two of us leading, even though neither of us knew where we were going. 

I don't think Luke knew how to feel about the two of us being super close. I know he'd told me last summer that if the two of us met, we'd either be best friends or enemies. We didn't really know how to feel about each other at first, especially considering the campers still looked to me as the leader, which Thalia, I knew, wasn't used to. It irritated her, sometimes and it would only worsen whenever people would whisper about her being the backup plan, but after I'd stuck up for her and almost drowned a few guys who were saying that, we became two peas in a pod. 

We would spend a lot of nights in one of our cabins and just talk. We would gang up on Luke, which he acted like he didn't like, but I think he was glad we were getting along. And we'd laugh about his siblings calling him a suicidal idiot for befriending possibly the two most powerful demigods in many years. 

I snapped out of my wandering thoughts when we arrived at a door that had GYM written on the glass. Even with my dyslexia, I could read that much.

"That was close!" Grover exclaimed. "Thank the gods you got here!"

Thalia and I both hugged Grover and Luke gave him one of those bro-fist-bumps.

It was good to see him after so many months. He'd gotten a little taller and had sprouted a few more whiskers, but otherwise, he looked like he always did when he passed for human— a red cap on his curly brown hair to hide his goat horns, baggy jeans and sneakers with fake feet to hide his furry legs and hooves. He was wearing a black T-shirt that took me a few seconds to read. It said WESTOVER HALL: GRUNT. I wasn't sure whether that was, like, Grover's rank or maybe just the school motto.

"So what's the emergency?" I asked, feeling very ready to get out of there and change as soon as possible.

Grover took a deep breath. "I found two."

"Two half-bloods?" Thalia asked, amazed. "Here?"

Grover nodded.

Finding one half-blood was rare enough. This year, Chiron had put the satyrs on emergency overtime and sent them all over the country, scouring schools from fourth grade through high school for possible recruits. These were desperate times. We were losing campers. We needed all the new fighters we could find. The problem was, there just weren't that many demigods out there, and we couldn't exactly recruit three-year-olds to the cause.

"A brother and a sister," Grover told us, shifting nervously. "They're ten and twelve. I don't know their parentage, but they're strong. We're running out of time, though. I need help."

"Monsters?" I asked.

"One." Grover looked nervous. "He suspects. I don't think he's positive yet, but this is the last day of term. I'm sure he won't let them leave campus without finding out. It may be our last chance! Every time I try to get close to them, he's always there, blocking me. I don't know what to do!"

Grover shifted his gaze from Thalia to me multiple times, frantically. 

"Right," Thalia nodded, planting her hands on her hips. "These half-bloods are at the dance?"

Grover nodded.

"Then let's dance," I shrugged.

"Okay, Miss Broadway Star, just because you're a dancer and cheerleader and what-the-hell-ever—" Thalia started. 

"Who's the monster?" Brylie asked, her voice coming out small.  

"Oh," Grover said, and looked around nervously. "You just met him. The vice-principal, Dr. Thorn." 

Weird thing about military schools: the kids go absolutely nuts when there's a special event and they get to be out of uniform. I guess it's because everything's so strict the rest of the time, they feel like they've got to overcompensate or something. At the very least, I knew I wouldn't be super out of place in a bright red leather and latex Santa minidress. Only slightly.

There were black and red balloons all over the gym floor, and guys were kicking them in each other's faces, or trying to strangle each other with the crepe-paper streamers taped to the walls. Girls moved around in football huddles, the way they always do, wearing lots of makeup and spaghetti-strap tops and brightly colored pants and high heels. Every once in a while they'd surround some poor guy like a pack of piranhas, shrieking and giggling, and when they finally moved on, the guy would have ribbons in his hair and a bunch of lipstick graffiti all over his face. 

Some of the older guys looked more like Luke— uncomfortable, hanging out at the edges of the gym and trying to hide, like any minute they might have to fight for their lives. Of course, in our case, it was true... 

"There they are." Grover nodded toward a couple of younger kids arguing in the bleachers. "Bianca and Nico di Angelo." 

The girl wore a floppy green cap, like she was trying to hide her face. The boy was obviously her little brother. They both had dark silky hair and olive skin, and they used their hands a lot as they talked. The boy was shuffling some kind of trading cards. His sister seemed to be scolding him about something. She kept looking around like she sensed something was wrong. 

"They don't... you haven't told them, right?" Luke asked.

"You know how it is; That could put them in more danger. Once they realize who they are, their scent becomes stronger."

He looked at me, and I nodded. I'd never really understood what half-bloods "smell" like to monsters and satyrs, but I knew that your scent could get you killed. And the more powerful a demigod you became, the more you smelled like a monster's lunch.

"So let's grab them and get out of here," I said. I started forward, but Thalia put her hand on my shoulder. The vice-principal, Dr.Thorn, had slipped out of a doorway near the bleachers and was standing near the di Angelo siblings. He nodded coldly in our direction. His blue eye seemed to glow. 

Judging from his expression, I guessed Thorn hadn't been fooled by my trick with the Mist after all. He suspected who we were. He was just waiting to see why we were here. 

"Never mind, don't look at the kids," I ordered. "We have to wait for a chance to get them. We need to pretend we're not interested in them. Throw him off the scent." 

"How?" 

"We're three powerful half-bloods and another less experienced, but still powerful half-blood. Our presence should confuse him. Mingle. Act natural. Do some dancing. But keep an eye on those kids." 

"Dancing?" Luke asked, a hint of reproach in his tone. 

Thalia nodded. She cocked her ear to the music and made a face. "Ugh. Who chose the Jesse McCartney?" 

Grover looked hurt. "I did." 

"Oh my gods, Grover. That is so lame. Can't you play, like, Green Day or something? Literally our best friend over here is a Pop Princess, Superstar and you choose Jesse McCartney?" 

"Green who?" 

"Never mind. Let's dance." 

"But I can't dance!" 

"You can if I'm leading," Thalia said. 

"Come on, goat boy." Grover yelped as Thalia grabbed his hand and led him onto the dance floor. 

Luke smiled and I raised an eyebrow at him. 

"What's got you so happy, Chief?" I asked.

"Nothing. It's just cool to have Thalia back."

I could feel my expression soften, and Luke tried to think of a new topic. Brylie got caught in a group of girls who were heading in Bianca and Nico's direction, so she joined them and, once she got close enough, made her way to them. It only took a few seconds before Brylie was sitting beside them, chatting with Bianca. 

"How's being an A-lister going?" He finally said. 

For the first time in a while, talking about my career actually made me happy. Things had been going so well in my career recently, despite my struggling with the last track on my next album. Without giving any spoilers, I told him about some new Marvel movies I was going to be in, still playing Celeste Stark, I told him about playing Aeverlynne Targaryen on Game of Thrones, Meredith Spades on The Walking Dead, and I told him a movie I'd starred in a little before finding out I was a demigod, Wonder Woman, was getting a sequel. 

He listened as best he could, but I could tell he was getting lost with how many characters I played. 

"Hey!" Thalia called to us just as I was about to start up my complaining about my struggles with figuring out the last song. She was slow dancing with Grover, who was tripping all over himself, kicking Thalia in the shins, and looking like he wanted to die. I didn't blame him. Thalia had a dangerous look in her eyes, one that usually preceded lightning bolts.

"Dance, you guys!" Thalia ordered. "You look stupid just standing there."

"Do you know how to dance?" I asked him, genuinely curious. 

"Silena tried giving me lessons a year or two ago, but they didn't end up very well," he replied, smiling as if remembering Silena most likely losing her shit. 

"Then follow my lead. It's not as hard as it looks," I said gently, grabbing his hand and shoulder. At the very least, he knew the starting moves. 

After a little bit, I came to the conclusion that he was most likely lying, considering he was better than a few of the dance partners I've had in the past. 

"You're a bold faced liar, you know that?" I asked teasingly. 

He gave me a charming smirk. "Kinda part of my heritage there, babe."

I rolled my eyes as I started humming to the song, that one controversial Christmas song, Baby, It's Cold Outside. 

I looked up at Luke. His already unnaturally blue eyes were brighter than usual as he looked at me. He spun me around once and I ended up looking over his shoulder to check on Bianca, Nico, and Brylie. 

He was going to say something, but I completely stopped moving, which made Luke slip and almost faceplant.

"What—"

"They're gone," I said, transfixed on the bleachers where the siblings and Brylie had previously been. 

"And Dr. Thorn's nowhere to be seen," Luke said, following my line of sight and then looking around.

"Go follow them, I'll get the others," I said and I didn't give him time to argue. I pushed through the crowd of people, looking for Thalia and Grover. 

A group of boys walked past me, one of them stopping to take a double-take. His jaw dropped and I had to actually push him out of my way. Because of the heels and my natural above-average height, I was automatically taller than most of the kids there, so looking around should've been much easier than it actually was. I caught a glimpse of Luke running to a back exit of the gym and made a mental note about that being where he went. 

I spent five minutes frantically walking all over the gym before I finally caught sight of Thalia and Grover at the punch stand. 

"You know this punch actually is really goo—" Thalia was about to say, but I cut her off. 

"They're gone."

*    *    *

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[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the titan's curse

0.0 prologue

warnings : a lot of underage drinking, mentions of a club, mentions of a pretty toxic work environment, monster attack, allie kinda has a breakdown at the end

word count : 3.2k

early december, a club in new york city.

“Where are you?” Danny demanded over the phone the moment the call connected.

I looked around at the mass amount of people around me. “... Nowhere?” 

I could hear Danny scoff over the call, despite the blaring music from speakers around the club I was standing in. “Was that a question or an answer?” 

“... An answer?” 

Instead of a scoff, this time it was a sigh. “You’re out drinking again, aren’t you?” 

I paused. “I’m inclined to lie to you, just so you have plausible deniability if I ever get caught and kicked out and/or arrested for underage drinking.”

I wasn’t really sure when I’d decided going out drinking was the best course of action for the night. 

To be honest, I should’ve known better than to let my friends take me out. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down. I should’ve known better than to think everything would be okay.

I should’ve known better.

My night had been shitty well before the end of it. I had locked myself in my at-home studio about six days prior, refusing to be dragged out and only allowing Danny in to bring me water bottles and food. With album finalizations due by the end of the month and three songs still needing to be written and two needing to be produced, I’d decided the best way to finish things up as quickly as possible (mostly in order to have more time to fix any mistakes and make everything perfect) was to lock myself in my room and forbid myself from coming out until everything was finished.

To the surprise of many (read: Danny), it was actually working. The two songs that needed to be produced had been finished, and I was pretty satisfied with two of the songs I’d written, but things hit a bit of a roadblock whenever I’d gotten to the last song. Normally I was pretty good at being able to write lyrics to an already-produced song, but this one was… different.

No matter how much I ingrained each cord into my brain, no song lyrics could come to the forefront of my mind. There was no way only three albums into my music career I’d run out of things to say, right?

Well, that wasn’t exactly fair. I had a lot I felt like I needed to say, but most of it had to do with the Greek side of my life— the side I wasn’t really allowed to mention while out in public. Plus, how many times could I curse out the gods before they finally realized I wasn’t just singing in hypotheticals?

I wasn’t sure what exactly Danny had told my group of outside-world friends, but they’d managed to drag me from my self-imposed lockdown when they mentioned that our friend, Minnie, was in town. She was a K-Pop Idol and hardly had any time to be in the States with us, but she just so happened to be in between comebacks and had a little bit of time off to spend in her home state. Since I didn’t know when I’d get to see her next, I hadn’t put up much of a fight. Plus, I kinda needed the drink.

I had simply… forgotten to tell Danny where I was going. So when he arrived back at my at-home studio to check on me and bring me dinner, all he found was an empty desk chair and a pile of trashed pieces of paper containing failed lyrics. 

“Are you at least out with the girls?” Danny finally asked, in a small bit of silence between songs. 

I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “They’ll keep me safe. Plus, I know my limits.” 

His silence told me everything I knew he wouldn’t say aloud to me. “Just be safe. If you aren’t back here by three, I’m coming to get you and the girls. Take care of them, too.” 

Aside from the fact that Danny had my location tracked through Find My Friends and Life360, I knew he would be able to find me because I always went to the same club— it was the only one I knew I’d be able to drink at without being 21 and knew I wouldn’t get caught by paparazzi. 

“I will. Talk to you later.” 

Danny sighed one final time. “You better.” 

Without another thought, I ended the call, taking no note of the extra beep at the end of it, which would’ve alerted me that the monster protection on the phone needed to be strengthened. 

“That Danny?” 

I nodded at Tori, grabbing the shot of whatever that she offered me. “Of course. He’s always assuming I’m getting myself into trouble.” 

She snorted. “Well, you are in a club underage drinking. I think that maybe might constitute ‘getting yourself into trouble’.” 

I took the shot and gave her a raised eyebrow. “Technically speaking, you, Rena, and Minnie brought me out here, so I don’t think that should apply to getting myself into trouble.” I paused, taking a sip of a margarita that Minnie, who’d joined us at the bar, slid me. “Besides, I can drink circles around you guys.” 

“Oh, you wanna bet?!” 

***

I think it was by the time they played my song all-american bitch for the third time that I finally realized I was hitting my limit. Or. Well. Maybe I had hit my limit two shots ago, when I was still insisting I could keep going despite all of my friends tapping out. 

Should’ve known better. 

Tori had long since joined the dance floor with a random guy (she’d ignored my obnoxious call of “make sure he signs an NDA!”), Rena had left a few minutes prior, her girlfriend waiting to pick her up outside the club once she’d realized her social battery was quickly running out, and Minnie was still stuck beside me at the bar, her company-mandated dating ban keeping her from finding company other than me. 

I pouted, my arms crossed over my chest. “I don’ wanna go on a blind date.”

Minnie huffed into her cup of plain Coke. “But you don’t date anyone, Alls. Like, I don’t get how you can write all these songs about boys breaking your heart and love when you haven’t had a kiss outside of your acting roles.” 

“Hey,” I complained, sitting up a little to grab the cup of water I’d finally decided on getting instead of another Moonshine Mule. “I’ll have you know I’ve kissed plenty of boys without it having to do with work.”

“How many of those were while you’d been drinking?” 

I sputtered out a sound of objection. “You make me sound like an alcoholic!”

“Alls, come oooooon! Tae’s really sweet. You’d really get along with him, and he thinks you’re really pretty and your music is incredible. Which, he’s not wrong, but still.” 

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t shoot back a response immediately. Truthfully, it had been a while since I’d gotten myself involved with someone. Of course, I knew why. There was a very large elephant in the room in the form of Luke. We were friends. But we also both knew that what we had went a hell of a lot further than friends. I wasn’t taken, but I was also, like, pretty much a step away from married. 

But that also had its own problem: I couldn’t exactly tell my real-world friends about Luke. Because telling them about Luke meant telling them about how I’d met him, and where. It’s not like I couldn’t just tell them a lie, but they were close friends of mine. I didn’t want to lie straight to their faces. Lying by omission was much easier. Especially when I knew the truth would never get out unless I wanted it to. 

“If you think Tae is sooo sweet, you should just date him,” I finally replied. 

Minnie frowned. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. You know that.” 

I grimaced. I probably shouldn’t have said it— Minnie always got really touchy over the subject of her dating ban. I was lucky with my career in that, I was so well established that I could date whoever I wanted with little to no repercussions coming as a result. Maybe a couple of angry fans here or there, but nothing Earth-shattering. Minnie not only had the dating ban, but there was also the looming threat that coming across as taken in her industry could possibly mean the end of her career. When she was still a trainee, only dreaming of being able to debut, she’d had a boyfriend— her high school sweetheart. When that contract holding the dating ban had been slapped in front of her, she thought she’d be able to hide it. They would sneak around, but ended up getting caught by cameras one night. Her company had paid the news site off to keep it hidden, but she’d been forced to break up with her boyfriend. She hadn’t been able to talk to him since. 

I sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it makes you sad.” 

Minnie sniffled a little, but didn’t let any tears fall. Finally, she looked up and gave me a small smile. “It’s alright, Alls. You know I just want you to be happy, right?” 

“‘Course,” I replied. “I want the same for you, too.” 

We sat in silence for a few moments, letting the sounds of Usher’s Yeah! fill our ears. 

Finally, I chugged the rest of my water and sat up. “I think I need to head back to my studio.” 

Minnie’s face brightened. “Yeah? Are you ready to go? I think I’m gonna head out, too.” 

***

Minnie had wanted to wait for Danny to get there to pick me up, but I’d insisted she go ahead and get back to her hotel room. Her ride had gotten there much sooner than Danny due to how close her hotel was, but she told me she wasn’t above making him wait. I knew she wasn’t bluffing, but I also knew Minnie was getting to the end of her energy. We’d drank a lot, and I knew she’d be out like a light soon, in a bed or not. 

I made sure I was sharing my location with her and she’d begrudgingly crawled into the car, waving as the car started driving. 

When she was out of sight, I sighed and pulled my coat closer to myself. The December air was unforgiving and the wind caused by the tall New York skyscrapers didn’t help any. 

The drunken yelling of men from across the street set my fight or flight off. I wasn’t sure if they were directing their calls at me, or if they were just being loud in general, but I figured it would be best to not find out. I didn’t want to stray far, but finding a hiding spot nearby wouldn’t be too bad, right? 

My first step forward hit me like a truck. 

While talking to Minnie, I could push aside the feeling of the alcohol flowing through my system, but now that the only thing I could concentrate on was how cold it was, it seemed my competitive drinking from earlier was ready to hit me with a vengeance. 

I huffed out a breath, the air fogging as it left my lips. With a determined step forward, I stumbled over to the mouth of an alleyway, holding myself up against the wall as I willed away the feeling of sickness that was creeping up my throat. 

Just when I thought my stupidity had to have met its only consequences, the world decided it was going to show me real bad luck. 

A growl rumbled through the air. 

My head shot up, sending another wave of nausea through me. 

I was in no shape to fight. The world around me was spinning enough as it was. The cold was making my fingertips numb. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold a sword, much less swing it. 

I looked further down the alleyway. Two glimmering red eyes shone toward the back. A Hellhound. 

Even with the alcohol flowing through my veins, I knew I couldn’t let it leave the confines of the alley. I couldn’t let it get out in the open where the mortals could be put in danger. Of course, they wouldn’t see it for what it was, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be in harm’s way. 

I’d only come into contact with a Hellhound up close and personal once. When I was seventeen and still in my first few days at camp, one had been summoned into the borders of camp to attack me. I’d gotten my chest clawed open before I was carried into the water to be healed. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to meeting another. 

I took unsteady steps forward, bringing a trembling hand up to my neck where Riptide, my first sword, sat in necklace form. Pressing the diamond hanging from the chain would spring it into sword form, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that yet. Even though I’d taken a few steps forward, the Hellhound hadn’t moved an inch. Maybe it was hoping I wouldn’t do anything and would just walk toward my death with no fight. 

Finally, I stopped a few paces away from where it was still standing, not moving an inch. A low growl settled in its throat, making goosebumps rise on my arms for reasons other than the chill in the air. 

I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have drank so much. Every limb on my body felt like it was treading water every time I needed to move them. How was I supposed to fight like this? 

My hand was still curled around the gem of Riptide. 

In an instant, the Hellhound settled back on its hind legs and jolted, as though it was going to jump at me. 

My shot nerves caused me to overreact and, with a stumble, I ended up on the ground. 

The pain didn’t hit me. My eyes couldn’t leave the beast in front of me, getting in position to lunge at me for real this time. Trying to scramble back in my drunkenness was difficult, and even though adrenaline was pulsing through my veins, it still felt like my reaction time was seconds behind. 

Finally, the Hellhound had enough of playing with its food and lunged. I rolled out of the way, summoning Riptide once I was on my knees. 

The Hellhound skidded on the ground, its claws making a grating noise against the asphalt as it did, and turned back toward me with a growl. It tensed at the sight of the celestial bronze of Riptide, but seemed to know that I was off my A-game and if it tried a little harder would get an easy snack. 

My chest heaved. For a moment, I actually doubted I’d be able to get myself out of this one. 

I finally got to my feet, trying not to fall back down when my knees shook with the exertion. 

The Hellhound swatted at me with one of its large paws, but I was able to keep it away from me with Riptide. 

It advanced toward me, slower this time. I backed up with it, until my back touched the wall. 

It was now or never. I was only going to be able to fight off the effects of the alcohol for so long and the longer I took to fight back, the more likely it was that I was going to lose this fight. 

When it got close enough, this time I braced myself against the wall. Steadying myself, all I could think about was making it through this fight. Once I won, I could break down. 

With a final growl, the Hellhound lunged. 

I used the wall to push off of as I went toward the ground once more, this time prepared to do so as I came face-to-face with the belly of the monster. Without another thought, and before it could come down on my legs and trap me, I thrust my sword up and into its stomach. 

It howled in pain, but wasn’t a strong enough monster to fight the deadly effects of celestial bronze. As the blood-curdling howl cut through the air, the Hellhound crumbled into golden dust. 

I panted as I sat there for a moment, the dust falling on my head like confetti. 

“Allie?” 

The sound of my name made my breath hitch. Because it wasn’t Danny’s voice I heard, it was—

“Luke?” I called back, my voice strained. 

He appeared at the mouth of the alleyway like a guardian angel brought to save me. My breath hitched. 

I struggled to my feet for what would hopefully be the last time that night. 

He walked toward me as I stumbled toward him. My heel caught on a rock and I almost tumbled back to the ground, but Luke caught me. Like always. 

His skin was warm despite him not wearing anything other than a hoodie I’d gotten him for his birthday and some jeans. He always ran warmer than I did. 

“Danny called me a few hours ago saying he was sending a car to come get me. Something about you being really stressed? Are you okay?” he said, bringing a hand up to shake the golden dust off of my hair.

I shook my head. “I drank too much,” I replied pitifully. “And the Hellhound— I didn’t think— it really scared me. And I can’t think of this stupid song. And I haven’t gotten any sleep for— for like a week. And— and I drank too much.” 

Once all of the dust was out of my hair, he kept his hand there, smoothing the loose strands as a way to soothe me. “Shh, hey, Angel, it’s alright. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

As he pulled me closer, letting me rest my head against his chest, I finally broke down, his words letting me know I was safe to do so. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re alright,” he continued, slowly rocking me back and forth, still petting my head. 

“I wanna go home,” I whispered tearfully, clutching the material of his hoodie in my fists. 

He nodded, pressing a kiss on the top of my head and keeping his lips there as he said, “Okay, Angel. We can go home.”

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#alliejackson #a story as endless as the ocean #asaeato #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.9 red sky in morning

warnings : none ( lmk if that isn't actually true )

word count : 2.5k

1.9 The King of the Titans Installs His Back-Up Plan Just in Case He Can't Manipulate Me or I Die (Whichever Comes First)

That afternoon was one of the happiest I'd ever spent at camp, which probably goes to show, you never know when your world is about to be rocked to pieces.

Grover announced that he'd be able to spend the rest of the summer with us before resuming his quest for Pan. His bosses at the Council of Cloven Elders were so impressed that he hadn't gotten himself killed and had cleared the way for future searchers, that they granted him a two-month furlough and a new set of reed pipes.

The only bad news: Grover insisted on playing those pipes all afternoon long, and his musical skills hadn't improved much. He played "YMCA," and the strawberry plants started going crazy, wrapping around our feet like they were trying to strangle us. I guess I couldn't blame them, seeing as I wanted to strangle his 'music' too. However illogically that was phrased. But, because I was a good friend, I managed to restrain myself and not break them. Though, I wasn't about to make any promises if he started on Hilary Duff again.

Grover told me he could dissolve the empathy link between us, now that we were face to face, but I had simply rolled my eyes and told him not to be an idiot. He put down his reed pipes and stared at me. "But, if I get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Allie! You could die!"

"I'm a demigod, Grover," I scoffed back. "Dying's in the job description." I gave him a stern, unyielding look that said I wasn't going to back down on this. "If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come to help you again, Grover. I wouldn't have it any other way."

In the end, he agreed not to break the link. He went back to playing "YMCA" for the strawberry plants. I didn't need an empathy link with the plants to know how they felt about it. I suspect I did everyone a favor when I confiscated the reeds and rapped him around the head with them. 

As for Tyson, the campers treated him like a hero. I would've been happy to have him as my cabin mate forever, but that evening, as we were sitting on a sand dune overlooking the Long Island Sound, he made an announcement that completely took me by surprise.

"Dream came from Daddy last night," he said. "He wants me to visit."

I wondered if he was kidding, but Tyson really didn't know how to kid. "Poseidon sent you a dream message?"

Tyson nodded. "Wants me to go underwater for the rest of the summer. Learn to work at Cyclopes' forges. He called it an inter— an intern—"

"An internship?"

"Yes." I let that sink in. I'll admit, I felt a little bitter. Poseidon did seem to actually care about Tyson. But me? He said to my face that I was a mistake. Who wouldn't feel a bit resentful at hearing their parent say that, no matter how they felt about the parent themselves? Then I realized, Tyson was going? Just like that?

"When would you leave?" I asked.

"Now."

"Now. Like... right now?"

"Now."

"Oh." I stared out at the waves of Long Island Sound. The water was glistening red in the sunset. I could feel tears pricking my eyelids. "I'm happy for you, bub," I managed. "Seriously."

"Hard to leave my new sister," he said with a tremble in his voice. "But I want to make things. Weapons for the camp. You will need them."

Unfortunately, I knew he was right. The Fleece hadn't solved all the camp's problems. Annabeth and Cody were both still out there, gathering an army aboard the Princess Andromeda. Kronos was still re-forming in his golden coffin. Eventually, we would have to fight them. War was inevitable, and the Great Prophecy loomed over my head like a Sword of Damocles. I would turn nineteen in a little over three weeks, meaning I would be exactly two years away from my much-dreaded twenty-first birthday.

"You'll make the best weapons ever," I told Tyson. I held up my bracelet proudly. "The best. No contest."

Tyson sniffled. "Brothers and sisters help each other."

"You're my brother," I vowed. "No doubt about it."

He patted me on the back so hard he almost knocked me down the sand dune. Then he wiped a tear from his cheek and stood to go. "Use the shield well."

"I will, bub."

"Save your life someday."

The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, I wondered if that Cyclops eye of his could see into the future.

"Just like its creator," I answered softly as he headed down to the beach and whistled, the way I'd taught him. Rainbow, the hippocampus, burst out of the waves. I watched the two of them ride off together into the realm of Poseidon.

Once they were gone, I looked down at my new bracelet. I pressed the sapphire and the shield spiraled out to full size. Hammered into the bronze were pictures in Ancient Greek style, scenes from our adventures this summer. There was me slaying a Laistrygonian dodgeball player, Luke fighting the bronze bulls on Half-Blood Hill, Tyson riding Rainbow toward the Princess Andromeda, the CSS Birmingham blasting its cannons at Charybdis. I ran my hand across a picture of Tyson, battling the Hydra as he held aloft a box of Monster Donuts.

I couldn't help feeling sad. I knew Tyson would have a fantastic time under the ocean. He would love his internship, of that I had no doubt, not to mention seeing Poseidon, whom he idolized. But I would miss everything about him— his fascination with horses, the way he could fix chariots or crumple metal with his bare hands, or tie our enemies into knots. I'd even miss him snoring like an earthquake in the next bunk all night.

"Hey, Allie."

I turned.

Luke and Grover were standing at the top of the sand dune. I wiped a few stay tears from my eyes. 

"Tyson..." I told them. "He had to..."

"We know," Luke replied softly, his expression gentle as he reached out to smooth down my curls. "Chiron told us."

"Cyclops forges." Grover shuddered. "I hear the cafeteria food there is terrible! Like, no enchiladas at all."

I let out a watery laugh, and he gained a pleased expression. Luke wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Come on, Angel. Time for dinner."

We walked back toward the dining pavilion together, just the three of us together, almost like old times.

A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did (Thank Olympus for weather wards).

Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in our valley. We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, safely sealed inside our magical borders.

Still, my dreams were restless. I heard Kronos taunting me from the depths of Tartarus. 

Polyphemus sits blindly in his cave, young heroine, believing he has won a great victory. Are you any less deluded? The Titan's cold laughter filled the darkness of the cavern.

Then my dream changed. I was following Tyson to the bottom of the sea, into the court of Poseidon. It was a radiant hall filled with blue light, the floor cobbled with pearls. And there, on a throne of coral, sat my father, dressed like a simple fisherman in khaki shorts and a sun-bleached T-shirt. I looked up into his tan weathered face and sea-green eyes, all older, but still looking just like me, and he spoke two words: Brace yourself.

I woke with a start.

There was a banging on the door. Grover flew inside without waiting for permission. "Allie!" he stammered. "Luke... on the hill... he..."

The look in his eyes told me something was terribly wrong. Luke had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. If something had happened— I ripped off the covers, my blood like ice water in my veins. I grabbed a piece of Ambrosia from my secret stash, then threw on a hoodie over my sports bra and pajama pants and shoved on the closest pair of slip-on shoes (which happened to be Gucci slides), while Grover tried to make a complete sentence, but he was too stunned, too out of breath. He wasn't making any sense.

"She's lying there... just lying there..."

Who was she? The only thing I could think was that a new camper must have arrived, deathly injured by the sounds of it.

I ran outside and raced across the central yard, Grover right behind me. Dawn was just breaking, but the whole camp seemed to be stirring. Word was spreading. Something huge had happened. A few campers were already making their way toward the hill as fast as they could, satyrs and nymphs and heroes in a weird mix of armor and pajamas. I spotted Will and his younger sister Kayla Knowles, gripping a box of medical supplies and a quiver of arrows between them as they struggled up the slope.

I heard the clop of horse hooves, and Chiron galloped up behind us, looking grim.

"Is it true?" he asked Grover.

Grover could only nod, his expression dazed.

I tried to ask what was going on, but Chiron grabbed me by the arm and effortlessly lifted me onto his back. Together we thundered up Half-Blood Hill, where a small crowd had started to gather.

I expected to see the Fleece missing from the pine tree, but it was still there, glittering in the first light of dawn. The storm had broken and the sky was bloodred from the rising sun. The color made me queasy, as I remembered an old phrase one of my directors had often spouted. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailor's warning.

"Curse the titan lord," Chiron said. "He's tricked us again, given himself another chance to control the prophecy. He's given himself a backup plan."

"What do you mean?" I asked fearfully.

"The Fleece," he answered me in a grim tone of voice. "The Fleece did its work too well."

That was, as you may have guessed, completely unhelpful. We galloped forward, everyone moving out of our way. There at the base of the tree, a girl was lying unconscious. Luke was pale-faced and dressed in Greek armor as he knelt next to her. He didn't glance back as we cantered up to the group.

"My gods," he was muttering repeatedly. "My gods. My gods."

My instinctual fear caused blood to roar in my ears. I couldn't think straight. What had happened? Was Luke hurt? Was the Fleece still there? Still undamaged?

The tree itself looked perfectly fine, whole and healthy, suffused with the essence of the Golden Fleece.

"It healed the tree," Chiron said, his voice ragged. "And poison was not the only thing it purged."

Luke finally looked away from the girl at the sound of Chiron's voice. When he saw us, he ran to Chiron. "It... she... just suddenly there..."

His eyes were streaming with tears uncharacteristically, but I still didn't understand. I was too freaked out to make sense of it all. I leaped off Chiron's back and ran toward the unconscious girl. Chiron said: "Allie, wait!"

I knelt by her side. She had short black hair and freckles across her nose. She was built like a long-distance runner, lithe and strong, and she wore clothes that were somewhere between punk and Goth— a black T-shirt, black tattered jeans, and a leather jacket with buttons from a bunch of different bands.

She wasn't a camper. I didn't recognize her from any of the cabins. And yet I had the strangest feeling I'd seen her before...

"It's true," Grover said, panting from his run up the hill. "I can't believe..."

Nobody else came close to the girl.

I put my hand on her forehead, trying to use my rudimentary first-aid skills to assess her. Her skin was cold, but my fingertips tingled as if they were burning.

"She needs nectar and ambrosia," I said. She was clearly a half-blood, whether she was a camper or not. I could sense that just from one touch. I didn't understand why everyone was acting so scared. I shot a scathing look at the medics, who were as frozen as everyone else.

Breakdowns are for later people. Not when there's someone in desperate need of medical aid lying unconscious in front of you. Gods! Well, if none of them were going to help, I would.

I took her by the shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position, resting her head on my shoulder. Then I pulled out the small piece of ambrosia from my pocket. I pinched her nose to make her open her mouth, popped in the ambrosia, and massaged her throat to make her swallow. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the girl took a shaky breath. She coughed and opened her eyes.

Her irises were startlingly blue— electric blue.

The girl stared at me in bewilderment, shivering and wild-eyed. "Who—"

"I'm Allie," I said, keeping my tone soothing like I was talking to Nessa's little half-brother, or one of the camp's younger kids (usually about five to seven, but there was a four-year-old son of Apollo who had come after his mother's death. I'll give Apollo this, he made certain that none of his children ended up in the foster system). "You're safe now."

"Strangest dream..."

"It's okay."

"Dying."

"No," I assured her. "You're okay. What's your name?" That's when I knew. Even before she said it. I had seen those eyes before, not just in a picture and I had heard that voice before too. "Wait."

The girl's blue eyes stared into mine, and I understood what the Golden Fleece quest had been about. The poisoning of the tree. Everything. Kronos had done it to bring another chess piece into play— another chance to control the prophecy. If I died or he couldn't find a way to control me, he had a backup plan.

Even Chiron, Luke, and Grover, who should've been celebrating this moment, were too shocked, thinking about what it might mean for the future, and the war. And I was holding someone who was supposed to have died seven years ago in my arms.

"I am Thalia," she said, unaware of the turmoil she was about to cause the world. "Daughter of Zeus."

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.8 brace yourself

warnings : mention of dysfunctional families, chariot races, a bit of violence and injuries, cussing

word count : 3.6k

1.8 The Single-Most Infuriating Letter You Will Ever Read in Your Entire Life

We arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaurs' travel powers. They seemed to be able to bend time as they galloped along, or something similar, at any rate.

I rode on Chiron's back, but we didn't talk much, and especially not about Kronos. I mean, I've met plenty of bad parents, but Kronos, the evil titan lord who wanted to destroy Western Civilization, and not to mention ate his children? Not the kind of dad you invited to school for career day.

When we got to camp, the centaurs were all really eager to meet Dionysus. They'd heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-Blood Hill. I suppose he was disappointed we weren't going to be invaded and all of us be killed, after all.

The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a Draco Aionius (which as near as I could figure was Latin for "really-big-lizard-with-breath-that-blows-stuff-up", a.k.a, a Greek dragon). And that was one of less-injury causing attacks. The Big House's rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo cabin, who were the best healers, had been working overtime performing first aid.

Everybody looked weary and battered as we all crowded around Thalia's tree.

The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten, turning from gray to liquid silver. A cool breeze rustled in the branches and rippled through the grass, all the way into the valley. Everything came into sharper focus— the glow of the fireflies down in the woods, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach.

Gradually, the needles on the pine tree started turning from brown to green.

Everybody cheered. It was happening slowly, but there could be no doubt— the Fleece's magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power and expelling the poison.

Chiron ordered a twenty-four/seven guard duty on the hilltop, at least until he could find an appropriate monster to protect the Fleece. He said he'd place an ad in Olympus Weekly right away.

In the meantime, Clarisse was carried on her cabin mates' shoulders down to the amphitheater, where she was honored with a laurel wreath and a lot of celebrating around the campfire.

To my delight, nobody gave Luke or me a second look. It was as if we'd never left. Really, that was the best thank-you anyone could give us, because if they admitted that we had snuck out of camp to do the quest, they would have to expel us. And I didn't want any more attention. It felt good to be just one of the campers for once. And Clarisse deserved the attention, she really did.

The next morning, after the party ponies headed back to Florida, Chiron made a surprise announcement: the chariot races would go ahead as scheduled. We'd all figured they were history now that Tantalus was gone, but completing them did feel like the right thing to do, especially now that Chiron was back and the camp was safe.

Tyson wasn't too keen on the idea of getting in a chariot after our first experience, but he was happy to let me team up with Luke. I would drive, Luke would defend, and Tyson would act as our pit crew. While I worked with the horses, Tyson fixed up the Hermes chariot and added a whole bunch of special modifications.

We spent the next two days training like crazy. Luke and I agreed that if we won, the prize of no chores for the rest of the month would be split between our two cabins. Since Hermes had a lot more campers, they would get most of the time off, which was fine by me. I didn't care about the prize. I just wanted to win.

The night before the race, I stayed late at the stables. I was talking to our horses, giving them one final brush, when somebody right behind me said, "Fine animals, horses. Wish I'd thought of them."

I jumped about a foot in the air, spinning and summoning Riptide as I turned.

A middle-aged guy in a postal carrier outfit was leaning against the stable door. He was slim, with curly black hair under his white pith helmet, and he had a mailbag slung over his shoulder.

"Hermes?" I stammered in surprise.

"Hello, Allie. Didn't recognize me without my jogging clothes?"

"Uh..." I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to kneel or buy stamps from him or something. Neither option appealed to me. I decided to go the simple route. "What's up?"

He sighed. "Do you ever feel like your father abandoned you, Allie?"

Oh, man. That was a dangerous question. For me. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't hold in the laugh.

I wanted to say, "Only a few hundred times a day." I hadn't spoken to Poseidon since last summer. That minute-long conversation was more than most half-bloods got in their entire lives, and it had mostly consisted of him saying I was an unwanted mistake. And then there was the whole thing with Tyson— I loved him, but seriously. I got no warning, no explanation. Just boom, you have a brother. You'd think that deserved a little heads-up phone call or something. At the very least, it would've been nice to find out earlier, like when I found him sleeping in a cardboard box, or something.

We weren't even gonna touch the subject of my mom, or what had happened to her. Sure, gods couldn't pay attention to their children, but what about their former lovers?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Finally, I figured out my answer.

"Of course I do. I always have. I know why, now, but there's just something off-putting about knowing one of your parents is alive and well, but can't ever talk or see you."

Hermes readjusted the mailbag on his shoulder. "Allie, the hardest part about being a god is that you must often act indirectly, especially when it comes to your own children. If we were to intervene every time our children had a problem... Well, that would only create more problems and more resentment. But I believe if you give it some thought, you will see that Poseidon has been paying attention to you. He has answered your prayers. I can only hope that someday, Luke may realize the same about me."

"Right," I drawled. This conversation was confusing and disjointed, and I wanted my bed. Best to just (carefully) agree. Without ending up involved in another quest, or anything.

Hermes shrugged as he continued. "Families are messy. Immortal families are eternally messy. Sometimes the best we can do is to remind each other that we're related, for better or worse... and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum."

It didn't sound like much of a recipe for the perfect family. Then again, as I thought about my quest, I realized maybe Hermes was right. Poseidon had sent the hippocampi to help us. He'd helped Luke in Siren's Bay. And there was Tyson. Had Poseidon brought us together on purpose? How many times had Tyson saved my life this summer? Okay, maybe, maybe, I could consider giving Poseidon a bit of a break. A bit. 

In the distance, the conch horn sounded, signaling curfew.

"You should get to bed," Hermes said. "I've helped you get into quite enough trouble this summer already. I really only came to make this delivery."

"A delivery?"

"I am the messenger of the gods, Allie." He took an electronic signature pad from his mailbag and handed it to me. "Sign there, please."

I picked up the stylus before realizing it was entwined with a pair of tiny green snakes. "Ah!" I dropped the pad.

"Ouch," said George.

"Really, Allie?" Martha scolded. "Would you want to be dropped on the floor of a horse stable?"

"Oh, uh, sorry." Martha and George wriggled under my fingers, forming a kind of weird pencil grip.

"Did you bring me a rat?" George asked.

"No..." I said. "Uh, we didn't find any."

"What about a guinea pig?"

"George!" Martha chided while I giggled. "Don't tease the girl."

I signed my signature and gave the pad back to Hermes.

In exchange, he handed me a sea-blue envelope.

My fingers trembled. Even before I opened it, I could tell it was from my father. I could sense his power in the cool blue paper, as if the envelope itself had been folded out of an ocean wave.

"Good luck tomorrow," Hermes said. "Fine team of horses you have there, and an even finer defender. I'll be rooting for you and Luke."

I took in a deep breath, staring at the envelope. "This isn't... going to make me angry when I read this, is it? I've been filled with a little too much anger recently, I don't know how much more my body will be able to handle." There was silence for a minute, and that was all I needed to know. "Got it. I won't keep my hopes up, then." 

"Just don't be too discouraged when you read it, dear," Martha told me. "He does have your interests at heart."

"Don't mind her," George said. "And next time, remember, snakes work for tips."

"Enough, you two," Hermes said. "Good-bye, Allie. For now."

Small white wings sprouted from his pith helmet. He began to glow, and I knew enough about the gods to avert my eyes before he revealed his true divine form. With a brilliant white flash, he was gone, and I was alone with the horses.

I stared at the blue envelope in my hands. It was addressed in strong but elegant handwriting.

Allie Jackson

c/o Camp Half-Blood

Farm Road 3.141

Long Island, New York 11954

An actual letter from my father. What would he write? I didn't even know what I wanted it to say, but I knew I wouldn't like it very much.

I opened the envelope and unfolded the paper.

Two simple words were printed in the middle of the page:

Brace Yourself.

***

The next morning, everybody was buzzing about the chariot race, though they kept glancing nervously toward the sky like they expected to see Stymphalian birds gathering. None did. It was a beautiful summer day with blue sky and plenty of sunshine. The camp had started to look the way it should look: the meadows were green and lush; the white columns gleamed on the Greek buildings; dryads played happily in the woods.

And I was miserable. I'd been lying awake all night, thinking about Poseidon's warning.

Brace yourself.

I mean, he goes to the trouble of writing a letter, and he writes two words?

Martha the snake had told me not to feel disappointed. Maybe Poseidon had a reason for being so vague. Maybe he didn't know exactly what he was warning me about, but he sensed something big was about to happen— something that could completely knock me off my feet unless I was prepared. It was hard, but I tried to turn my thoughts to the race.

As Luke and I drove onto the track, I couldn't help admiring the work Tyson had done on the Hermes chariot. It was completely different from the falling-to-pieces wooden box on wheels it had been previously. The carriage gleamed with bronze reinforcements. The wheels were realigned with magical suspension so we glided along with hardly a bump. The rigging for the horses was so perfectly balanced that the team turned at the slightest tug of the reins.

Tyson had also made us two javelins, each with three buttons on the shaft. The first button primed the javelin to explode on impact, releasing razor wire that would tangle and shred an opponent's wheels. The second button produced a blunt (but still very painful) bronze spearhead designed to knock a driver out of his carriage. The third button brought up a grappling hook that could be used to lock onto an enemy's chariot or push it away.

I figured we were in pretty good shape for the race, but Tyson still warned me to be careful. The other chariot teams had plenty of tricks up their togas.

"Here," he said, just before the race began.

He handed me a cuff bracelet. It was silver, the opposite of the one that held Shaker, and it had a giant blue sapphire right in the middle, with a whole bunch of miniature dolphin shapes all around the rest of the bracelet. I would've thought it was a little weird under other circumstances, but as soon as I saw it, I realized that this is what I'd seen him tinkering on all summer.

I loved wearing jewelry, so I had no reason to say no to Tyson.

"Thanks, bub." I put it on my left hand, where it looked great with Shaker on my right, and found it was surprisingly light and comfortable. I could hardly tell I was wearing it, much like Shaker.

"Didn't finish in time for the trip," Tyson mumbled. "Sorry, sorry."

"Hey, bub. No big deal."

"If you need protection in race," he advised, "press the sparkle, like you do with your swords."

"Of course, bubs." I didn't know what it did, exactly, but he'd compared it to my swords, so I was fairly certain it would be something that helped me.

"And, Tyson.." I trailed off, unable to phrase my relief at the fact that he was alive. Or apologize for not saving him when the CSS Birmingham exploded.

"I know what you will tell me," Tyson said, looking ashamed. "Poseidon did care for me after all."

That was definitely not what I wanted to say. I didn't like to make a habit of lying. "Uh, well—"

"He sent you to help me. Just what I asked for."

I blinked in surprise. "You asked Poseidon for... me?"

"For a friend," Tyson said, twisting his shirt in his hands. "Young Cyclopes grow up alone on the streets, learn to make things out of scraps. Learn to survive."

"But that's so cruel!"

He shook his head earnestly. "Makes us appreciate blessings, not be greedy and mean and fat like Polyphemus. But I got scared. Monsters chased me so much, clawed me sometimes—"

"The scars on your back?"

A tear welled in his eye. "Sphinx on Seventy-second Street. Big bully. I prayed to Daddy for help. Soon met you. Biggest blessing ever. Sorry, I said Poseidon was mean. He sent me a sister."

I stared at the bracelet that Tyson had made for me, my bottom lip quivering.

"Angel!" Luke called. "Come on, Gorgeous!"

Chiron was at the starting line, ready to blow the conch.

"Tyson..." I said.

"Go," Tyson said. "You will win!"

"I— yeah, okay, bub. We'll win this one for you." I climbed on board the chariot and got into position just as Chiron blew the starting signal.

The horses knew what to do. We shot down the track so fast I would've fallen out if my arms hadn't been wrapped in the leather reins. Luke held on tight to the rail. The wheels spun beautifully. We took the first turn a full chariot-length ahead of Clarisse, who was busy trying to fight off a javelin attack from the Demeter kids.

"We've got 'em!" I yelled, but I spoke too soon.

"Incoming!" Luke yelled. He threw his first javelin in grappling hook mode, knocking away a lead-weighted net that would have entangled us both. Apollo's chariot had come up on our flank. Before Luke could rearm himself, the Apollo warrior threw a javelin into our right wheel.

The javelin shattered, but not before snapping some of our spokes. Our chariot lurched and wobbled. I was sure the wheel would collapse altogether, but we somehow kept going.

I urged the horses to keep up the speed. We were now neck and neck with the Apollo chariot.

Hephaestus was coming up close behind. Ares and Demeter were falling behind, riding side by side as Clarisse went sword-on-javelin with Katie.

If we took one more hit to our wheel, I knew we would capsize.

"You're mine!" the driver from Apollo yelled. He was a first-year camper. I didn't remember his name, but he sure was confident. He'd learn not to be, soon enough. 

"Yeah, right!" Luke yelled back.

He picked up his second javelin— a real risk considering we still had one full lap to go— and threw it at the Apollo driver.

His aim was perfect. The javelin grew a heavy spear point just as it caught the driver in the chest, knocking him against his teammate and sending them both toppling out of their chariot in a backward somersault. The horses felt the reins go slack and went crazy, riding straight for the crowd. Campers scrambled for cover as the horses leaped the corner of the bleachers and the golden chariot flipped over. The horses galloped back toward their stable, dragging the upside-down chariot behind them.

I held our own chariot together through the second turn, despite the groaning of the right wheel. We passed the starting line and thundered into our final lap.

The axle creaked and moaned. The wobbling wheel was making us lose speed, even though the horses were responding to my every command, running like a well-oiled machine.

The Hephaestus team was still gaining.

Beckendorf grinned as he pressed a button on his command console. Steel cables shot out of the front of his mechanical horses, wrapping around our back rail. Our chariot shuddered as Beckendorf's winch system started working— pulling us backward while Beckendorf pulled himself forward.

Luke cursed and drew a knife. He hacked at the cables but they were too thick.

"Can't cut them." He yelled at me.

The Hephaestus chariot was now dangerously close, their horses about to trample us underfoot.

"Switch with me!" I told Luke. "Take the reins!"

"But—"

"Trust me!"

Our magic words. He pulled himself to the front and grabbed the reins. I turned, trying hard to keep my footing, and summoned Riptide.

I slashed down and the cables snapped like kite strings. We lurched forward, but Beckendorf's driver just swung his chariot to our left and pulled up next to us. Beckendorf drew his sword. He slashed at Luke, and I parried the blade away.

"Try not to get me killed, babe," Luke drawled. 

"That's what I'm doing, babe," I shot back. 

We were coming up on the last turn. We'd never make it. I needed to disable the Hephaestus chariot and get it out of the way, but I had to protect Luke, too. Just because Beckendorf was a friend didn't mean he wouldn't send us both to the infirmary if we let our guard down.

We were neck and neck now, Clarisse coming up from behind, making up for lost time.

"See ya, Allie!" Beckendorf yelled. "Here's a little parting gift!"

He threw a leather pouch into our chariot. It stuck to the floor immediately and began billowing green smoke.

"Greek fire!" Luke warned, looking panicked.

I swore violently in Greek. I'd heard stories about what Greek fire could do. I figured we had maybe ten seconds before it exploded.

"Get rid of it!" Luke shouted, but I couldn't. Hephaestus' chariot was still alongside, waiting until the last second to make sure their little present blew up. Beckendorf was keeping me busy with his sword. If I let my guard down long enough to deal with the Greek fire, Luke would get sliced and we'd crash anyway. I tried to kick the leather pouch away with my foot, but I couldn't.

It was stuck fast.

Then I remembered the bracelet.

I didn't know how it could help, but I managed to punch the sapphire. Instantly, the bracelet changed. It expanded, the metal rim spiraling outward like an old-fashioned camera shutter, a leather strap wrapping around my forearm until I was holding a round war shield four feet wide, the inside soft leather, the outside polished bronze engraved with designs I didn't have time to examine.

All I knew: Tyson had come through. I raised the shield, and Beckendorf's sword clanged against it. His blade shattered.

"What?" he shouted. "How—"

He didn't have time to say more because I knocked him in the chest with my new shield and sent him flying out of his chariot, tumbling in the dirt.

I was about to use Riptide to slash at the driver when Luke yelled, "Allie!"

The Greek fire was shooting sparks. I shoved the tip of my sword under the leather pouch and flipped it up like a spatula. The firebomb dislodged and flew into the Hephaestus chariot at the driver's feet. He yelped.

In a split second the driver made the right choice: he dove out of the chariot, which careened away and exploded in green flames. The metal horses seemed to short-circuit. They turned and dragged the burning wreckage back toward Clarisse and Katie, who had to swerve to avoid it.

Luke pulled the reins for the last turn. I held on, sure we would capsize, but somehow he brought us through and spurred the horses across the finish line. The crowd roared.

Once the chariot stopped, our friends mobbed us. They started chanting our names, but Luke yelled over the noise: "Hold up! Listen! It wasn't just us!"

The crowd didn't want to be quiet, but Luke made himself heard: "We couldn't have done it without somebody else! We couldn't have won this race or gotten the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to Tyson, Allie's..."

"Brother!" I said, loud enough for everybody to hear. "Tyson, my baby brother."

Tyson blushed. The crowd cheered. Luke spun me around and pecked my cheek before pulling back to wink at me flirtatiously. The roaring got a lot louder after that. The entire Hermes cabin lifted Luke, Tyson and I onto their shoulders and carried us toward the winner's platform, where Chiron was waiting to bestow the laurel wreaths.

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.7 party crashers

warnings : swords, bad injuries, cussing, fighting

word count : 3.9k

1.7 What Ever Happens in the Sea of Monsters Washes Up on Miami

"One on one," I challenged Cody. "What are you afraid of? Scared a five-foot-ten, eighteen-year-old girl in a slutty dress is gonna kick your ass?"

Cody curled his lip and exchanged a quick look with Annabeth. The soldiers who were about to kill us hesitated, waiting for their orders.

Before he could say anything, Agrius, the bear-man, burst onto the deck leading a flying horse. It was the first pure-black pegasus I'd ever seen, with wings like a giant raven. The pegasus stallion bucked and whinnied. I could understand his thoughts. He was calling Agrius, Annabeth, and Cody some names so bad Chiron would've washed his muzzle out with saddle soap.

I saw the whip marks on his back, and the world went red as I clenched my sword so tight that my knuckles went white. How dare they?

"Sir!" Agrius called, dodging a pegasus hoof. "Your steed is ready!"

Cody kept his eyes on me. Or my chest, rather, but all the same. 

"You can't bait us into a fight," Annabeth snapped at me coldly.

"And you both keep avoiding one," I noticed, flipping my curls over my shoulder. "Scared your warriors will see you get whipped?"

They glanced at their soldiers, and saw that I had trapped them. If neither of them fought me, they would look weak.

Cody would have to be the one to fly, because no pegasus would ever allow a child of Athena to ride them. It was hard enough for them to drive a chariot, outright riding an equine animal? Children of Athena had died attempting to ride one of my father's creations. She also couldn't fight me, because Annabeth was no swordfighter, and a knife against two swords was about as likely to succeed as a knife against a gun, wits or not.

On the other hand, if Cody fought me, he'd lose valuable time chasing after Clarisse, and they had already failed once.

For my part, the best I could hope for was to distract him, giving my friends a chance to escape. Although I was a good fighter, I was not the type of person to overestimate myself. I had never fought Cody before, and barely even knew he was a son of Hermes, nor did I know what abilities he had gained from it. I just had to hope the others would be sensible, and get away as quickly as they could. Luke was clever and sneaky. He could get Grover and Tyson away.

I felt my phone buzz from the waistband of my spandex. Clarisse was at the airport. Amy had taken a picture of her. I pulled out my phone in front of everyone, sending a quick reply.

she's the one. get out of here quickly

did that just send? well, if it did, we are gaining air now

And a second later. call you when we land?

yeah do that, please

My eyes traveled to the direction of Miami airport and barely managed to catch sight of a black helicopter rising in the sky. I smirked and turned back to Cody. I put my phone back in the waistband of my spandex and was met with his glare.

"I'll kill you quickly," he decided and raised his weapon.

I recoiled in horror at the sight, hearing Luke and Grover gasp.

It was a sword, a foot longer than both of my own. Its blade glinted with an evil gray-and-gold light where tempered steel had been melded with celestial bronze. I could almost feel the blade fighting against itself, like two opposing magnets bound together. I didn't know how the blade had been made, but I sensed a tragedy.

Someone had died in the process.

"What is that?" I demanded, still horrified.

Cody smirked and Annabeth chuckled darkly.

"Like it?" Cody asked, twisting it so the light glinted off the blade. "I named it Destroyer. It's made of a mixture of steel and Celestial Bronze. Lethal to mortals and monsters alike. Not much different than those two swords you have in those scabbards, Allie."

"I only use Shaker around monsters, asshole. I don't take it out near mortals. Fuck out of here with that bullshit," I told him seriously. It was the truth, too. Shaker was used much less than Riptide, simply because I didn't want to unnecessarily hurt a mortal. His sword was made to inflict pain on anyone. It was used to be a torture device.

Cody simply whistled to one of his men, who threw him a round leather-and-bronze shield. He grinned at me wickedly, and I lifted my chin, defiantly meeting his eyes without fear.

"It'll be enjoyable seeing the blood on that white dress of yours," Cody smirked.

"Annabeth," Luke pleaded, "at least give her a shield."

"Sorry, Luke," she refused. "You bring your own equipment to this party."

"With what hands? Two swords, babe!" I replied, not taking my eyes off Cody

The shield was a problem. Fighting two-handed with just two swords gives you more power, but fighting one-handed with a shield gives you better defense and versatility. There are more moves, more options, more ways to kill. Still, I was probably better off without one. I was more practiced without one.

Cody lunged without warning and almost killed me on the first try. His sword went under my arm, slashing through my dress and grazing my ribs.

I jumped back, then counterattacked with Riptide, but Cody slammed my blade away with his shield.

"So much for the best swordswoman in Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth snickered. 

I ignored her, ignored everything except my opponent. I slashed, cutting a long slash across his chest diagonally, pushing him further back with each strike I took after that. He swore, and I noticed he was panting lightly, and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. I was the better fighter, and he knew it. He'd caught me off guard the first time and now I was mad.

He came at me again with a swipe to the head. I parried, returned with a thrust. He sidestepped most of it, but I managed to graze the side of his arms.

The cut on my ribs stung. My heart was racing. When Cody lunged again, I jumped backward into the swimming pool and felt a surge of strength in my weary limbs. I spun underwater, creating a funnel cloud, and blasted out of the deep end, straight at Cody's face.

The force of the water knocked him down, spluttering and blinded. But I only got a deep cut across his shoulder before he rolled aside and was on his feet again.

I attacked and sliced off the edge of his shield, but that didn't even phase him. He dropped to a crouch and jabbed at my legs. Suddenly my thigh was on fire, with a pain so intense I collapsed. The slit on my dress gave him an open spot to hit, so while the dress didn't get cut, I did. I was hurt. I didn't know how bad. Cody hacked downward and I rolled behind a deck chair. I tried to stand, but my leg wouldn't take the weight.

"Allliiiee!" Grover bleated.

"Sister!" Tyson called.

"Angel!" Luke cried at the same time, all of their voices panicked. I gritted my teeth, trying to suppress the pain. No way was I going down without a fight.

I rolled again as Cody's sword slashed the deck chair in half, metal pipes and all.

I forced myself up, fighting through the almost unbearable pain and limped toward the swimming pool, trying hard not to blackout. I'd never make it. My enemies knew it, too. I could hear Annabeth laughing as Cody advanced slowly, smiling. The edge of his sword was tinged with red. The sight of my blood dripping from it almost made me puke.

"One thing I want you to watch before you die, Allie." He looked at the bear-man Oreius, who was still holding Luke and Grover by the necks. He grabbed the front of my hair and pulled, forcing me to look straight at them. He grabbed my jaw in his other hand, keeping my head in place. "You can eat your dinner now, Oreius. Bon appetit."

Given his position, he was weaponless and had his gut ready for me to elbow. The only problem was that I barely had enough energy to stay conscious, let alone fight. I barely had a grip on Shaker. Cody knew I wouldn't be able to kill him with it right then. 

"He-he! He-he!" The bear-man lifted my friends and bared his teeth.

That's when all Hades broke loose.

There was a loud whish!

I threw Shaker like a throwing knife with the last of my energy and it split a red-feathered arrow that had sprouted from Oreius' mouth. With a surprised look on his hairy face, he crumpled to the deck. Shaker and the arrow hit the deck with a thud.

"Brother!" Agrius wailed. He let the pegasus' reins go slack just long enough for the black steed to kick him in the head and fly away free over Miami Bay.

For a split second, the guards were all too stunned to do anything except watch the bear twins' bodies dissolve into smoke.

Then there was a wild chorus of war cries and hooves thundering against metal. A dozen centaurs charged out of the main stairwell.

"Ponies!" Tyson cried with delight.

My mind had trouble processing everything I saw. Chiron was among the crowd, but his relatives were almost nothing like him. And I'm not just talking about appearances, here.

There were centaurs with black Arabian stallion bodies, others with gold palomino coats, others with orange-and-white spots like paint horses. Some wore brightly colored T-shirts with Day-Glo letters that said PARTY PONIES: SOUTH FLORIDA CHAPTER. Some were armed with bows, some with baseball bats, some with paintball guns. One had his face painted like a Comanche warrior and was waving a large orange Styrofoam hand making a big Number I. Another was bare-chested and painted entirely green. A third had googly-eye glasses with the eyeballs bouncing around on Slinky coils, and one of those baseball caps with soda-can-and-straw attachments on either side.

They exploded onto the deck with such ferocity and color that for a moment even Annabeth and Cody were stunned. I couldn't tell whether they had come to celebrate or attack.

Apparently both. As Cody was raising his sword to rally his troops, a centaur shot a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Cody in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool. Annabeth was hit in the stomach with a paintball, the force of the blow sending her slamming into the deck, where she lay unconscious.

Their warriors scattered. Honestly, I couldn't blame them. Facing the hooves of a rearing stallion is scary enough, but when it's a centaur, armed with a bow and whooping it up in a soda-drinking hat, even the bravest warrior would retreat.

"Come get some!" yelled one of the party ponies.

They let loose with their paintball guns. A wave of blue and yellow exploded against the warriors, blinding them and splattering them from head to toe. They tried to run, only to slip and fall.

Chiron galloped toward Luke and Grover, neatly plucked them off the deck, and deposited them on his back.

My wounded leg still felt like it was on fire and now that we had reinforcements, I felt comfortable with letting myself crumble.

Cody was crawling out of the pool.

"Attack, you idiots," he ordered his troops. Somewhere down below deck, a large alarm bell thrummed.

I knew that any second we would be swamped by reinforcements. Already, the warriors were getting over their surprise, coming at the centaurs with swords and spears drawn.

Tyson slapped half a dozen of them aside, knocking them over the guardrail into Miami Bay. But even more warriors were coming up the stairs. Shaker appeared back on my wrist in bracelet form.

"Withdraw, brethren!" Chiron cried.

"You won't get away with this, horseman!" Cody shouted. He raised his sword, but got smacked in the face with another boxing glove arrow, and sat down hard in a deck chair. I noticed with glee that his nose was bleeding and his eye was swelling. His chest and shoulder were still bleeding from my cut. I hoped that it hurt.

A palomino centaur, who already had my two bags resting on his back, hoisted me onto his back. "Lady, get your big friend!"

"Tyson!" I yelled. "Come on!"

Tyson dropped the two warriors he was about to tie into a knot and jogged after us. He jumped on the centaur's back. I winced in sympathy.

"Dude!" the centaur groaned, almost buckling under Tyson's weight. "Do the words 'low-carb diet' mean anything to you?"

Cody and Annabeth's warriors were organizing themselves into a phalanx. But by the time they were ready to advance, the centaurs had galloped to the edge of the deck and fearlessly jumped the guardrail, as if it were a steeplechase and not ten stories above the ground. I figured we were going to die. At least Cody and Annabeth wouldn't get the satisfaction of killing me.

We plummeted toward the docks, but the centaurs hit the asphalt with hardly a jolt and galloped off, whooping and yelling taunts at the Princess Andromeda as we raced into the streets of downtown Miami.

I have no idea what the Miamians thought as we galloped by. Maybe that there was some sort of gas leak and they were hallucinating. I found it hard to believe that the Mist could cover this up.

Streets and buildings began to blur as the centaurs picked up speed. It felt as if space were compacting— as if each centaur step took us miles and miles. In no time, we'd left the city behind.

We raced through marshy fields of high grass and ponds and stunted trees.

Finally, we found ourselves in a trailer park at the edge of a lake. The trailers were all horse trailers, tricked out with televisions and mini-refrigerators and mosquito netting. We were in a centaur camp.

"Dude!" said a party pony as he unloaded his gear. "Did you see that bear guy? He was all like: 'Whoa, I have an arrow and a sword in my mouth!'"

The centaur with the googly-eye glasses laughed. "That was awesome! Head slam!"

The two centaurs charged at each other full-force and knocked heads, then went staggering off in different directions with crazy grins on their faces.

Chiron sighed. He set Luke and Grover down on a picnic blanket and pulled me off the centaur's back, followed by my bags. He laid me down next to Luke and Grover. "I really wish my cousins wouldn't slam their heads together. They don't have the brain cells to spare."

I wasn't sure which was more shocking to me. The centaurs or how close of a call we had had. "Chiron," I said, stunned by the fact that he was here. "You saved us."

He gave me a dry smile. "Well now, I couldn't very well let you die, especially since you've cleared my name."

"But how did you even know where we were?" Luke asked, wrapping an arm around me so I could lean on him for support.

"Advanced planning," Chiron explained. "I figured you would wash up near Miami if you made it out of the Sea of Monsters alive. Almost everything strange washes up near Miami."

"Gee, thanks," Grover mumbled.

"No wonder they're all on drugs," I remarked at the same time, making Luke snicker in amusement. Chiron shot me a chiding look. "Don't look at me like that. There's a reason no one asks any questions in Florida."

"No, no," Chiron answered Grover. "I didn't mean... Oh, never mind. I am glad to see you, my young satyr. The point is, I was able to eavesdrop on Allie's Iris-message and trace the signal. Iris and I have been friends for centuries. I asked her to alert me to any important communications in this area. It then took no effort to convince my cousins to ride to your aid. As you see, centaurs can travel quite fast when we wish to. Distance for us is not the same as distance for humans."

I looked over at the campfire, where three party ponies were teaching Tyson to operate a paintball gun. I hoped they knew what they were getting into. I sure as hell wasn't dealing with that mess.

"So what now?" I asked Chiron. "We just let them sail away? They've got Kronos aboard that ship. Or parts of him, anyway."

Chiron knelt, carefully folding his front legs underneath him. He opened the medicine pouch on his belt and started to treat my wounds. "I'm afraid, Allie, that today has been something of a draw. We didn't have the strength of numbers to take that ship. They were not organized enough to pursue us. Nobody won."

I hated that he was right.

"But we got the Fleece!" Luke protested. "Clarisse is on her way back to camp with it right now."

Chiron nodded, though he still looked uneasy. "You are all true heroes. And as soon as we get Allie fixed up and not bleeding out on the grass, you must return to Half-Blood Hill. The centaurs shall carry you."

"You're coming, too?" I checked quickly.

"Oh yes, Allie. I'll be relieved to get home. My brethren here simply do not appreciate Dean Martin's music. Besides, I must have some words with Mr. D. There's the rest of the summer to plan. So much training to do. And I want to see... I'm curious about the Fleece."

I didn't know exactly what he meant, but it made me worried about what Cody had said: I was going to let you take the Fleece... once I was done with it.

Had he just been lying? I'd learned with Kronos there was usually a plan within a plan. The titan lord wasn't called the Crooked One for nothing. He had ways of getting people to do what he wanted without them ever realizing his true intentions. But how would fixing the wards on Camp Half-Blood help him?

Over by the campfire, Tyson let loose with his paintball gun. A blue projectile splattered against one of the centaurs, hurling him backward into the lake. The centaur came up grinning, covered in swamp muck and blue paint, and gave Tyson two thumbs up.

"Luke," Chiron said, "perhaps you and Grover would go supervise Tyson and my cousins before they, ah, teach each other too many bad habits?"

Luke met his eyes. Some kind of understanding passed between them.

"Sure, Chiron," Luke nodded, helping me sit. "Come on, goat boy."

"But I don't like paintball."

"Now, you do." He hoisted Grover back onto his hooves and led him off toward the campfire.

Chiron finished bandaging my leg. "Allie, we need to have a talk. About the prophecy."

Uh-oh, I thought. I debated running away from the responsibility of saving or destroying the world. But Chiron's speed and my still-wounded leg prevented it.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "So, am I the one in the prophecy?"

Chiron tucked his bandages back into his pouch. "I wish I knew, Allie. You're not yet twenty-one. For now, we must simply train you as best we can, and leave the future to the Fates."

The Fates. I hadn't thought about those old ladies except to damn them in a long time, but as soon as Chiron mentioned them, something clicked.

"That's what it meant," I realized, feeling sick.

Chiron frowned. "That's what what meant?"

"Last summer. The omen from the Fates, when I saw them snip somebody's life string. I thought it meant I was going to die right away, but it's worse than that. It's got something to do with your prophecy. The death they foretold— it's going to happen when I'm twenty-one."

Chiron's tail whisked nervously in the grass. "My girl, you can't be sure of that. We don't even know if the prophecy is about you."

"But there isn't any other half-blood child of the Big Three!"

"That we know of."

"And Kronos is rising. He's going to destroy Mount Olympus!"

"He will try," Chiron agreed. "And Western Civilization along with it, if we don't stop him. But we will stop him. You will not be alone in that fight."

I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but I remembered what I had heard once before. It would come down to one hero. One decision that would save or destroy the West. And I felt sure that the Fates had been giving me some kind of warning about that. Something terrible was going to happen, either to me or to somebody I was close to.

"I'm barely an adult, Chiron," I said miserably. "What good is one lousy hero against something like Kronos?"

Chiron managed a smile. "'What good is one lousy hero'? Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain said something like that to me once, just before he single-handedly changed the course of your Civil War."

"I don't know who that is." 

If I thought about it a little more, I might've, but as it stood, my brain felt more like mush than actual brain. I wasn't going to be able to do any hard thinking for a while.

He pulled an arrow from his quiver and turned the razor-sharp tip so it glinted in the firelight.

"Celestial bronze, Allie. An immortal weapon. What would happen if you shot this at a human?"

"Nothing," I said. "It would pass right through."

"That's right," he said. "Humans don't exist on the same level as the immortals. They can't even be hurt by our weapons. But you, Allie— you are part god, part human. You live in both worlds. You can be harmed by both, and you can affect both. That's what makes heroes so special."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It also made our lives more difficult. 

"You carry the hopes of humanity into the realm of the eternal. Monsters never die. They are reborn from the chaos and barbarism that is always bubbling underneath civilization, the very stuff that makes Kronos stronger. They must be defeated again and again, kept at bay. Heroes embody that struggle. You fight the battles humanity must win, every generation, in order to stay human. Do you understand?"

"No." As far as I could tell, heroes were merely twice as vulnerable. Not twice as valuable, like Chiron seemed to be trying to imply.

"You must try, Allie," he insisted. "Because whether or not you are the child of the prophecy, Kronos thinks you will be as long as you don't die. And after today, he will finally despair of turning you to his side. That is the only reason he hasn't killed you yet, you know. As soon as he's sure he can't use you, he will destroy you."

"You talk like you know him."

Chiron pursed his lips. "I do know him," he admitted.

I stared at him in shock. I hadn't expected that, though, given Chiron's age, I probably should have. "Is that why Mr. D blamed you when the tree was poisoned?" I asked. "Why you said some people don't trust you?"

"Indeed."

"But, Chiron... I mean, come on! Why would they think you'd ever betray the camp for Kronos?"

Chiron's eyes were deep brown, full of thousands of years of sadness. "Allie, remember your training. Remember your study of mythology. What is my connection to the titan lord?"

I tried to think, but most of my focus had been on monsters. Chiron wasn't a threat to me, so I hadn't looked into his history, though it seems I should have. I shook my head.

"I don't know." I pulled on my curls. Chiron's expression was pained as he met my eyes with his ancient brown ones. And then I remembered.

"Allie," Chiron said, his voice impossibly soft. "The Titan Lord is—"

"— Your father," I finished.

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #trinitymia #lullie

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.6 unplanned dinner entertainment

warnings : cussing, a little bit of despair, allie's fame comes in clutch, threat of violence ( ? )

word count : 2.9k

1.6 Gods, Does it Come in Handy to Have Random Contacts You Can Call and Have Them Drop Everything at a Moment's Notice

"Allie, wake up."

Saltwater splashed my face as I forced my heavy eyelids to open. Luke was shaking my shoulder. Thank the gods, he seemed to be fully recovered from his injuries from the island.

In the distance, the sun was setting behind the Miami skyline. I could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"Do you know where we are, Sea Princess?" Clarisse asked. 

"Miami," I said immediately. "Why are the hippocampi acting weird?"

"We don't know what's wrong with them. They started acting like that a few seconds ago," Luke filled me in.

Sure enough, our aquatic friends had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look happy. One of them sneezed. I could tell what they were thinking.

"This is as far as they'll take us," I explained, glancing around at my friends. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

None of us were very happy about that, but we thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said good-bye.

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, we swam for shore. The waves pushed us forward, and in no time we were back in the mortal world. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us— four kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster and another, completely dry (I forgot to force myself to get wet, alright) and had a long red carpet-worthy dress with matching hair and makeup on— they didn't let on.

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letterman jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.

I grabbed the nearest newspaper from a box and checked the date on the Miami Herald. Then I swore viciously. "It's June eighteenth! We've been away from camp for ten days!"

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said.

But I knew it wasn't. Time often traveled differently in monstrous places.

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed in despair. "We have to get the Fleece back tonight."

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. We're so screwed—"

"Stop it!" I snapped, unable to listen to the terrible words. Images of Camp Half-Blood in flames, with the body of my friends strewing it, danced behind my eyelids. I blinked back tears and forced myself to try and figure out a plan to get the Fleece to Camp ASAP.

Clarisse put her head in hands and Luke punched a nearby wall in silent frustration. Another thought occurred to me: this was supposed to be Clarisse's quest. Luke and I shouldn't have even been there, technically.

I thought about what I'd overheard in the boiler room of the CSS Birmingham— Ares yelling at Clarisse, warning her that she'd better not fail. Ares couldn't care less about the camp, but if Clarisse made him look bad...

"Clarisse," I said, "what did the Oracle tell you exactly?"

She looked up. I thought she was going to tell me off, but instead, she took a deep breath and recited her prophecy:

"You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone,

You shall find what you seek and make it your own,

But despair for your life entombed within stone,

And fail without friends, to fly home alone."

"Ouch," Grover mumbled.

"No," I shook my head, feeling hope beginning to flicker in my chest again. "No... wait a minute. I've got it."

I looked around for a moment before finding what I was looking for. Ignoring the questions from my friends, I pulled a baseball cap and the Gucci sunglasses from Circe's island out of my bag and put them on. 

"I'm gonna run into that gas station." I pointed to the little store across the street. "Stick around here, but I need an outlet, so if you guys could find one, that would be great. I'll be right back." 

Thankfully, none of them questioned me further, simply sticking with looking at me like I was crazy as I sprinted across the crosswalk to avoid getting hit by a stray cabbie. 

Mere minutes later, I was jogging out of the gas station, a charger for my phone in hand. It took only a few seconds more to find my rag-tag group of friends, sitting by an outside outlet, and only a minute or two more for my phone to turn back on. Once it did, I let out a breath of air, and began scrolling through my extensive contacts list. 

"Allie, what—?" Grover started, but I cut him off. 

I stood. "C'mon." 

I ran to the curb and whistled for a taxi that was just letting out a family of cruise passengers.

"Clarisse," I yelled. "Come on. You're going to the airport. Luke, give her the Fleece. Hurry. Hey, you take cards, right?" The dude nodded. "Cool, I need you to take her to Miami airport, immediately. I'll give you an extra hundred if you can do it in 10 minutes." His eyes widened and he nodded frantically. I gave him my card to swipe and Clarisse got in. I turned my attention to her. "I can get you to JFK really quickly. I'll call my friend and when you get there, tell them your name and they'll lead you to her. She'll get you on a helicopter. You won't have to get a flight and you'll be in the air practically as soon as you get there," I told her, already starting to call Amy, my personal Miami Airport worker.

I'm not sure which of them looked more stunned as I took the Fleece letterman jacket from Luke and put it in Clarisse's arms.

Clarisse said, "You'd let me—"

"It's your quest," I said. "Besides, that's what the prophecy meant: you'd fail without friends, meaning you'd need our help, but you'd have to fly home alone. You have to get the Fleece back safely."

I could see her mind working— suspicious at first, wondering what trick I was playing (because Clarisse and trust do not go together), then finally deciding I meant what I said. But then my call connected. 

"Hey, it's AJ, I need you to get a helicopter ready. A girl by the name of Clarisse La Rue is going to be there in like ten minutes and she needs to get dropped off at JFK, ASAP. I'll give her a signed receipt or something with my signature on it and text you a pic so you know it's her. She doesn't have her license with her at the moment."

"I got you, girl. I'm always ready for you," Amy replied immediately, and in the background I could hear her hopping into action. "I'll text you when she gets here. We've got a few already fueled up, so she'll be able to get into the air as soon as she gets here."

"Thanks," I said and ended the call. "You're good to go. Ask for Amy Shoemaker and someone will take you to her. Now hold on—"

Just as I was about to find something to write on and with, a Spanish-looking teenager walked up to me. 

She blushed and shoved a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, but you're Allie Jackson, right?" 

"Yeah," I answered quickly, trying to stop the adrenaline rush I was feeling. 

"Could I— uh, could I get an autograph? And maybe a picture?" she asked and my face lit up. 

I gave her a gentle smile. "Only if I can borrow a piece of paper." 

She nodded enthusiastically and handed me the notebook and sharpie in her hands. I quickly took them and scribbled my signature on two pieces of paper. I ripped the second one out and handed the notebook back to her. Then, I leaned in as she held her phone up, throwing up a peace sign and a large smile.

"Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, and then walked back to her parents. 

"Alright take this and hand it to Amy when you get there. She'll probably be looking for you." And then I remembered something else. "Oh, yeah. Smile pretty." I pulled open my camera and took a photo of Clarisse and sent it to Amy. "You're all set."

She jumped in the cab. "You can count on me. I won't fail."

"Of course you won't," I scoffed. "The thought that you might never occurred to me." Okay, a slight lie, but. Oh, whatever.

The cab peeled out in a cloud of exhaust. The Fleece was on its way.

"Allie," Luke frowned at me with crossed arms, "that was so—"

"Generous?" Grover offered.

"Stupid," Luke corrected. "You're betting the lives of everybody at camp that Clarisse will get the Fleece safely back by tonight? Are you completely crazy? And who were you on the phone with?"

"Number one," I held up a finger. "Don't call me or my ideas stupid or I'll punch you so hard you'll need surgery. Two," I held up a second finger. "Yes, I am insane, but not about this." I took in a deep breath. "I have connections everywhere. If I need a helicopter at a moment's notice, I'm sure to get one. Amy is simply one of my contacts. And a friend." 

"Angel."

"It's her quest," I insisted. "She deserves a chance. She can do this. I know it."

"Allie is nice," Tyson said.

"Allie is too nice for her own good," Luke grumbled, but I could tell that he had (reluctantly) accepted my reasoning.

"Come on," I told my friends. "Let's find another way home."

That's when I turned and found a sword's point at my throat.

"Hello, Allie," said Annabeth with a cold smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Welcome back to the States."

Her two bear-man thugs appeared on either side of us. One grabbed Luke and Grover by their T-shirt collars. The other tried to grab Tyson, but Tyson knocked him into a pile of luggage and roared at Annabeth.

"Allie," Annabeth said calmly, "tell your pet monster to back down or I'll have Oreius bash your friends' heads together."

Oreius grinned and raised Luke and Grover off the ground, kicking and screaming.

"What do you want, Annabeth?" I growled.

Her vicious smile widened as she gestured toward the end of the dock, and I noticed what should've been obvious. The biggest boat in port was the Princess Andromeda. I was really starting to loathe that damn ship.

"Why, I want to extend my hospitality, of course."

***

The bear twins herded us aboard the Princess Andromeda. They threw us down on the aft deck in front of a swimming pool with sparkling fountains that sprayed into the air. A dozen of Annabeth and Cody's assorted goons— dracaena, Laistrygonians, demigods in full battle armor— had all gathered to watch us get some 'hospitality'. Cody stepped forward to Annabeth's side as we were being manhandled in front of them.

"Now, the Fleece," he mused. "Where is it?" He looked us over, prodding my dress with the tip of his sword and poking Grover's jeans.

"Hey!" Grover yelled. "That's real goat fur under there!"

"Sorry, Grover," Annabeth smiled insincerely at him. "Just give me the Fleece and I'll leave you to return to your nature quest. You're an old friend after all."

"Blaa-ha-ha!" Grover protested. "Some old friend!"

"Maybe you didn't hear me." Cody's voice was dangerously calm. "Where— is— the— Fleece?"

"Not here," I said. I probably shouldn't have told him anything, but it felt good to throw the truth in his face. "We sent it ahead of us. You messed up."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "You're lying. You couldn't have..." Both of their faces reddened as a horrible possibility occurred to them.

"Clarisse?" Cody demanded.

"No way," Annabeth scoffed, shaking her head. "She's a daughter of Ares. That lot are too dumb to be trusted with something like that."

I laughed, making Annabeth blanch in horror.

"You actually trusted... you gave..."

"Yup." I popped the 'p' cheerfully, enjoying how much the thought enraged her.

"Agrius!" Cody barked furiously.

The bear giant flinched. "Y- yes?"

"Get below and prepare my steed. Bring it to the deck. I need to fly to Miami Airport, fast."

"But, boss—"

"Do it!" Cody screamed. "Or I'll feed you to the drakon!"

The bear-man gulped and lumbered down the stairs. Cody paced in front of the swimming pool, cursing in Ancient Greek, gripping his sword so tight his knuckles turned white. Annabeth was rocking back and forth on her heels, muttering furiously and looking completely insane.

The rest of their crew looked uneasy. Maybe they'd never seen their boss so unhinged before.

I started thinking... If I could use their distress, get one of them to talk so everybody could hear what they had done...

I looked at the swimming pool, at the fountains spraying mist into the air, making a rainbow in the sunset. And suddenly I had an idea.

"You've been toying with us all along," I accused, voice slightly louder than normal. "You wanted us to bring you the Fleece and save you the trouble of getting it."

Annabeth scowled. "Of course, you idiot! And now you've gone and messed everything up!"

"Traitor!" I dug my last gold drachma out of my bag and threw it at her. As I expected, she dodged it easily.

The coin sailed into the spray of rainbow-colored water.

I hoped my prayer would be accepted in silence. I thought with all my heart: O goddess, accept my offering.

"You tricked all of us!" I yelled at them. "Even DIONYSUS at CAMP HALF-BLOOD!"

Behind Annabeth, the fountain began to shimmer, but I needed everyone's attention on me, so I summoned Riptide.

Annabeth just sneered. "This is no time for heroics, Allie. Drop your puny little sword, or I'll have you killed sooner rather than later."

"Who poisoned Thalia's tree?"

"Cody and I did, of course," she snarled back. "I already told you that. I used elder python venom, straight from the depths of Tartarus."

"Chiron had nothing to do with it?"

"Ha! You know he would never do that. The old fool wouldn't have the guts."

"You call it guts? Betraying your friends? Endangering the whole camp?"

Cody raised his sword. "You don't understand the half of it. We were going to let you take the Fleece... once we were done with it."

That made me hesitate. Why would they let us take the Fleece? He must've been lying. But I couldn't afford to lose his attention.

"You were going to heal Kronos," I stated.

"Yes! The Fleece's magic would've sped his mending process by tenfold. But you haven't stopped us, Allie. You've only slowed us down a little."

"And so you poisoned the tree, you betrayed Thalia, you set us up— all to help Kronos destroy the gods."

Annabeth gritted her teeth. "You know all that! Why do you keep asking the same things repeatedly?"

I smirked at her triumphantly. I could see Luke and Grover grinning as they watched. "Because I want everybody in the audience to hear you, of course."

"What audience?"

Then their eyes narrowed. They looked back and their goons did the same. They all gasped and stumbled back.

Above the pool, shimmering in the rainbow mist, was an Iris-message vision of Dionysus, Tantalus, and the whole camp in the dining pavilion. They sat in stunned silence, watching us.

"Well," said Dionysus dryly, "some unplanned dinner entertainment."

"Mr. D, you heard them," I replied. "You all did. The poisoning of the tree wasn't Chiron's fault."

Mr. D sighed. "I suppose not."

"The Iris-message could be a trick," Tantalus suggested, but his attention was mostly on his cheeseburger, which he was trying to corner with both hands.

"Bitch," I said, not feeling sorry in the slightest.

"I fear not," Mr. D said, looking with distaste at Tantalus. "It appears I shall have to reinstate Chiron as activities director. I suppose that I do miss the old horse's pinochle games."

Tantalus grabbed the cheeseburger. It didn't bolt away from him. He lifted it from the plate and stared at it in amazement, as if it were the largest diamond in the world. "I got it!" he cackled.

"We are no longer in need of your services, Tantalus," Mr. D announced.

Tantalus looked stunned. "What? But—"

"You may return to the Underworld. You are dismissed."

"No! But— Nooooooooooo!"

As he dissolved into mist, his fingers clutched at the cheeseburger, trying to bring it to his mouth. But it was too late. He disappeared and the cheeseburger fell back onto its plate. The campers exploded into cheering.

Annabeth shrieked in rage. She slashed her knife through the fountain and the Iris-message dissolved, but the deed was done.

I was feeling pretty good about myself, until they both turned and gave me matching murderous looks.

"Kronos was right, Allie," Cody declared. "You're an unpredictable weapon. You need to be replaced."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't have time to think about it. One of his men blew a brass whistle, and the deck doors flew open. A dozen more warriors poured out, making a circle around us, the brass tips of their spears bristling.

Annabeth smiled that awful icy smile at me. "You'll never leave this boat alive."

"You obviously know nothing about me and my stubbornness when confronted with the idea of death."

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #female percy jackson #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.5 we get shipwrecked

warnings : i actually don't think there are any

word count : 1.6k

1.5 If a Ship Sinks With No(body) One Around, Does it Still Make a Sound?

"You'd think he'd run out of rocks at some point," I muttered. "Especially seeing as it's not even a rocky island." I was past being frightened. Now, I was just seriously pissed off.

"Swim for it!" Grover cried.

He and Clarisse plunged into the surf. Luke was now hanging on to Clarisse's neck and he tried to paddle with one hand, the wet Fleece weighing them both down.

But the monster's attention wasn't on the Fleece.

"You, young Cyclops!" Polyphemus roared. "Traitor to your kind!"

Tyson froze.

"Don't listen to him!" I pleaded. "Come on."

I pulled Tyson's arm, but I might as well have been pulling a mountain. He turned and faced the older Cyclops. "I am not a traitor."

"You serve mortals!" Polyphemus shouted. "Thieving humans!"

Polyphemus threw another boulder. Tyson swatted it aside with his fist.

"Not a traitor," Tyson said. "And you are not my kind."

"That's my boy," I muttered approvingly.

"Death or victory!" Polyphemus charged into the surf, but his foot was still wounded. He immediately stumbled and fell on his face. That would've been funny, except he started to get up again, spitting saltwater and growling.

"Allie!" Clarisse yelled. "Come on!"

They were almost to the ship with the Fleece. If I could just keep the monster distracted a little longer...

"Go," Tyson told me. "I will hold Big Ugly."

"No! He'll kill you." I'd already lost Tyson once. I wasn't going to lose him again. "We'll fight him together."

"Together," Tyson agreed.

I pulled my swords from their scabbards and fell into my preferred stance. As much as I could in the water, anyway.

Polyphemus advanced carefully, limping worse than ever. But there was nothing wrong with his throwing arm. He chucked his second boulder. I dove to one side, but I still would've been squashed if Tyson's fist hadn't blasted the rock to rubble.

I willed the sea to rise. A twenty-foot wave surged up, lifting me on its crest. I rode toward the Cyclops and kicked him in the eye, leaping over his head as the water blasted him onto the beach.

"Destroy you!" Polyphemus spluttered. "Fleece stealer!"

"You stole the Fleece first!" I yelled back indignantly. "You've been using it to lure satyrs to their deaths!"

"So? Satyrs good eating!"

"The Fleece should be used to heal! It belongs to the children of the gods!"

"I am a child of the gods!" Polyphemus swiped at me, but I sidestepped. "Father Poseidon, curse this thief!" He was blinking hard now, like he could barely see, and I realized he was targeting me by the sound of my voice.

"Poseidon won't curse me," I said, backing up as the Cyclops grabbed air. "I'm his child, too. He won't play favorites." I really hoped I was right about that. Last summer had to count for something, right? And he'd helped Luke...

Polyphemus roared. He ripped an olive tree out of the side of the cliff and smashed it where I'd been standing a moment before. "Humans not the same! Nasty, tricky, lying!"

"Not moronic?" I suggested. He scrunched his face at that, and I guessed that he didn't know what I meant. I risked a glance back at my friends.

Grover was helping Luke aboard the ship. Clarisse was waving frantically at me, telling me to come on.

Tyson worked his way around Polyphemus, trying to get behind him.

"Young one!" the older Cyclops called. "Where are you? Help me!"

Tyson stopped.

"Tyson don't listen to him!" I called.

"You weren't raised right!" Polyphemus wailed, shaking his olive tree club. "Poor orphaned brother! Help me!"

Tyson ignored my plea and stepped forward, raising his hands defensively. "Don't fight, Cyclops brother. Put down the—"

Polyphemus spun toward his voice.

"Tyson!" I shouted.

The tree struck him with such force it would've flattened me into a pizza with extra-holey cheese. Tyson flew backward, plowing a trench in the sand. Polyphemus charged after him, but I shouted, "No!" and lunged as far as I could with Riptide. I'd hoped to sting Polyphemus in the back of the thigh, but I managed to leap a little bit higher.

"Blaaaaah!" Polyphemus bleated, sounding just like his sheep, and swung at me with his tree.

I dove, but still got raked across the back by a dozen jagged branches. I was bleeding and bruised and exhausted. The smart part of my brain wanted to bolt. But I swallowed down my fear.

Polyphemus swung the tree again, but this time I was ready. I grabbed a branch as it passed, ignoring the pain in my hands as I was jerked skyward, and let the Cyclops lift me into the air. At the top of the arc I let go and fell straight against the giant's face— landing with both feet on his already damaged eye.

Polyphemus yowled in pain. Tyson tackled him, pulling him down. I landed next to them— swords in hand, within striking distance of the monster's heart. But I locked eyes with Tyson, and I knew I couldn't do it. It just wasn't right. Gods, I am such a soft idiot.

"Let him go," I told Tyson. "And run."

With one last mighty effort, Tyson pushed the cursing older Cyclops away, and we ran for the surf.

"I will smash you.'" Polyphemus yelled, doubling over in pain. His enormous hands cupped over his eye.

Tyson and I plunged into the waves.

"Where are you?" Polyphemus screamed. He picked up his tree club and threw it into the water. It splashed off to our right.

I summoned up a current to carry us, and we started gaining speed. I was beginning to think we might make it to the ship, when Clarisse shouted from the deck, "Yeah, Allie! In your face, Cyclops!"

Shut up, I wanted to yell, but I was busy controlling the current.

"Rarrr!" Polyphemus picked up a boulder. He threw it toward the sound of Clarisse's voice, but it fell short, narrowly missing Tyson and me.

"Yeah, yeah!" Clarisse taunted. "You throw like a wimp! Teach you to try marrying me, you idiot!"

"Clarisse!" I yelled, unable to stand it. "Shut up!"

I was too late. Polyphemus threw another boulder, and this time I watched helplessly as it sailed over my head and crashed through the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge.

You wouldn't believe how fast a ship can sink. The Queen Anne's Revenge creaked and groaned and tilted forward like it was going down a playground slide.

I cursed, willing the sea to push us faster, but I could see that the ship's masts were already going under.

"Dive!" I urged Tyson. As another rock sailed over our heads, we plunged underwater.

My friends were sinking fast, trying to swim, without luck, in the bubbly trail of the ship's wreckage.

Not many people realize that when a ship goes down, it acts like a sinkhole, pulling down everything around it. Clarisse was a strong swimmer, but even she wasn't making any progress.

Grover frantically kicked with his hooves. Luke was hanging on to the Fleece, which flashed in the water like a wave of new pennies. His spare arm was flapping in an attempt at doggie paddling, but he was going down faster than the other two. And our prize was going with him.

I swam toward them as fast as I could, knowing all the while that I might not have the strength to pull my friends out.

Worse, pieces of timber were swirling around them; none of my power with water would help if I got whacked unconscious by a beam.

We need help, I thought despairingly as I tried to navigate through the debris.

Yes. It was Tyson's voice, loud and clear in my head.

I looked over at him, startled. I'd heard Nereids and other water spirits speak to me underwater before, but it never occurred to me... Tyson was a son of Poseidon. We could communicate with each other.

Rainbow, Tyson said.

I nodded, then closed my eyes and concentrated, adding my voice to Tyson's: RAINBOW! We need you!

Immediately, shapes shimmered in the darkness below— three horses with fishtails, galloping upward faster than dolphins. Rainbow and his friends glanced in our direction and seemed to read our thoughts. They whisked into the wreckage, and a moment later burst upward in a cloud of bubbles— Grover, Luke, and Clarisse (and, somehow, my duffle bag from Hermes and additional bag from Circe's island) each clinging to the neck of a hippocampus.

Rainbow, the largest, had Clarisse. He raced over to us and allowed Tyson to grab hold of his mane. His friend who was bearing Luke did the same for me.

We broke the surface of the water and raced away from Polyphemus's island. Behind us, I could hear the Cyclops roaring in triumph, "I did it! I finally sank Nobody!"

I sincerely hoped that he never found out he was wrong.

We skimmed across the sea as the island shrank to a dot and then disappeared.

"Did it," Luke muttered in exhaustion. "We..."

He slumped against my back and instantly fell asleep, not even finishing his sentence. I didn't blame him. It was a relief to see the color in his cheeks steadily improving, and I reached back to adjust him to be more comfortable on the hippocampus.

I didn't know how far the hippocampi could take us. I didn't know where we were going. I just propped up Luke so that he wouldn't fall off, covered him in the Fleece that we had been through so much to get, and said a silent prayer of thanks to the gods.

Then I put my head against the mane of the hippocampus, adjusting both of my bags to act as pillows, and before I knew it, I was asleep, too.

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #alliejackson #a story as endless as the ocean #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.4 somebody gets the fleece

warnings : lost of injuries, cussing, allie has an empathetic heart

word count : 2.6k

1.4 Somebody, Not to Be Confused With the Ever-Infamous Nobody, Gets the Fleece

"I got Nobody!" Polyphemus gloated loudly.

We crept to the cave entrance and saw the Cyclops, grinning wickedly, holding Luke by his ankle. Luke was hanging upside down by his legs, and he had an awful looking cut on his forehead. One of his shoes' wings was torn off and lying limply on the ground at Polyphemus' feet.

"Hah!" the Cyclops said. "Nasty flying boy! Gonna grill you with mango chutney!"

Luke struggled, but he looked dazed. His eyes were glassy. A concussion was the best-case scenario. I hoped it was only a concussion, and I suddenly wished that Will was here. He'd know at a glance what was wrong with Luke.

"I'll rush him," I whispered to Clarisse. "Our ship is around the back of the island. You and Grover—"

"No way," they said at the same time. Clarisse had armed herself with a highly collectible rams-horn spear from the Cyclops' cave. Grover had found a sheep's thigh bone, which he didn't look too happy about, but he was gripping it like a club, ready to attack.

"We'll take him together," Clarisse growled.

"Yeah," Grover said. Then he blinked, like he couldn't believe he'd just agreed with Clarisse about something. I could hardly believe either. Grover was a pacifist. He didn't tend to get along with the bloodthirsty Ares children.

"All right," I agreed, as there was no time to argue. "Attack plan Macedonia."

They nodded. We'd all taken the same training courses at Camp Half-Blood. They knew what I was talking about. They would sneak around either side and attack the Cyclops from the flanks while I held his attention in the front. What this meant was that we'd all probably die instead of just me, but I was grateful for the help.

I hefted my sword and shouted, "Hey, Asshole!"

The giant whirled toward me. "Another one? Who are you?"

"Put down my friend. I'm the one who insulted you."

"You are Nobody?"

"That's right, you blind old sot! I'm Nobody! Now, put him down and get over here. I want to stab your eye out again."

"RAAAR!" he bellowed.

The good news: he dropped Luke. The bad news: he dropped him head first onto the rocks, where he lay as motionless as a rag doll, blood pooling around his head in a horrific crimson halo.

The other bad news: Polyphemus barrelled toward me, a thousand smelly pounds of Cyclops that I would have to fight with what suddenly seemed to be a very small sword.

"For Pan!" Grover rushed in from the right. He threw his sheep bone, which bounced harmlessly off the monster's forehead. Clarisse ran in from the left and set her spear against the ground just in time for the Cyclops to step on it. He wailed in pain, and Clarisse dove out of the way to avoid getting trampled. But the Cyclops just plucked out the shaft like a large splinter and kept advancing on me.

I moved in with Riptide and Shaker, feeling myself slip into that zone where my instincts took over and I was focused almost entirely on the fight. Various maneuvers played themselves out rapidly in my mind as I fought.

The monster made a grab for me. I jumped aside and stabbed him in the thigh.

I was hoping to see him disintegrate, but of course, I wasn't that lucky. This particular monster was much too big and powerful.

"Get Luke!" I yelled at Grover, deflecting an attempt to grab my throat. I was pleased to see a line of golden ichor begin leaking from my swipe, though it was only a small amount, and didn't deter him at all. I liked knowing that I had made my enemies bleed before I died.

Grover rushed over and picked him up with effort while Clarisse and I worked together to try and keep Polyphemus distracted.

Clarisse was brave. Unarmed save for her semi-useless spear, she charged the Cyclops again and again. He pounded the ground, stomped at her, grabbed at her, but she was too quick. And as soon as she made an attack, I followed up by stabbing the monster in the toe or the ankle or the hand.

But we couldn't keep this up forever. Eventually, we would tire or the monster would get in a lucky shot. It would only take one hit to kill us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grover carrying Luke in a fireman's hold across the rope bridge. It wouldn't have been my first choice, given the man-eating sheep on the other side, but at the moment that looked better than this side of the chasm, and it gave me an idea.

"Fall back!" I told Clarisse.

She rolled away as the Cyclops's fist smashed the olive tree beside her.

We ran for the bridge, Polyphemus right behind us. He was cut up and hobbling from so many wounds, but all we'd done was slow him down and make him mad.

"Grind you into sheep chow!" he promised. "A thousand curses on Nobody!"

"Faster!" I urged Clarisse.

We tore down the hill. The bridge was our only chance. Grover had just made it to the other side and was setting Luke down. We had to make it across, too, before the giant caught us.

"Grover!" I yelled. "Get Luke's sword!"

His eyes widened when he saw the Cyclops behind us, but he nodded like he understood. And, to my relief, I saw that he did.

As Clarisse and I scrambled across the bridge, Grover began sawing at the ropes.

The first strand went snap!

Polyphemus bounded after us, making the bridge sway wildly.

The ropes were now half cut. Clarisse and I dove for solid ground, landing beside Grover. I made a wild slash with my sword and cut the remaining ropes.

The bridge fell away into the chasm, and the Cyclops howled... with delight, because he was standing right next to us.

"Failed!" he yelled gleefully. "Nobody failed!"

Clarisse and Grover tried to charge him again, but the monster swatted them aside like they were flies. I suppose to someone his size, we were all flies.

My anger swelled. I couldn't believe I'd come this far, lost Tyson, my baby brother, suffered through so much, only to fail— stopped by a big stupid monster in a baby-blue tuxedo kilt. Nobody was going to swat down my friends like that! I mean... nobody, not Nobody. Whatever, you know what I mean.

Strength and anger coursed through my body. I raised my sword and attacked, completely forgetting that I was hopelessly outmatched. I jabbed the Cyclops in the belly. When he doubled over I smacked him in the nose with the hilt of my other sword. I slashed and kicked and bashed in a haze of battle-fury until the next thing I knew, Polyphemus was sprawled on his back, dazed and groaning, and I was standing above him, breathing deeply, the tip of Riptide hovering over his eye and Shaker held out horizontally beside me.

"Uhhhhhhhh," Polyphemus moaned.

"Allie!" Grover gasped. "How did you—"

"Please, noooo!" the Cyclops moaned, pitifully staring up at me. His nose was bleeding. A tear welled in the corner of his half-blind eye. "M-m-my sheepies need me. Only trying to protect my sheep!" He began to sob.

I had won. All I had to do was stab— one quick strike. One strike, our enemy would be gone, and we would be free to grab the Fleece and save the camp. Still, I hesitated, listening to Polyphemus' cries.

"Kill him!" Clarisse yelled. "What are you waiting for?"

The Cyclops sounded so heartbroken, just like... like Tyson.

"He's a Cyclops!" Grover warned. "Don't trust him!"

I knew he was right. I knew Luke would've said the same thing. I remembered the Cyclops the girls and I had fought last winter in an alleyway in Times Square.

But Polyphemus sobbed... and for the first time, it sank in that he was a child of Poseidon, too. Like Tyson. Like me. How could I just kill him in cold blood?

"We only want the Fleece," I told the monster. "Will you agree to let us take it?"

"No!" Clarisse shouted. "Kill him!" I knew that she was right, but I still ignored her. Tyson was stuck in my head.

The monster sniffed. "My beautiful Fleece. Prize of my collection. Take it, cruel human. Take it and go in peace."

"I'm going to step back slowly," I told the monster. "One false move..."

Polyphemus nodded, like he understood.

I stepped back... and as fast as a cobra, Polyphemus smacked me to the edge of the cliff. I flew back, landing hard and swearing in Greek. I could hear Clarisse and Grover crying out from behind the cackling Cyclops.

"Foolish mortal!" he bellowed, rising to his feet. "Want to take my Fleece? Haha! I eat you first."

He opened his enormous mouth, and I knew that his rotten molars were the last things I would ever see. I set my jaw and raised my chin defiantly, determined not to show any fear. As a last-second attempt to save my own life, I heaved a kick to the side of his face.

At the same time, something went whoosh over my head and thump!

A rock the size of a basketball sailed into Polyphemus's throat—a perfect bullseye, even with my kick. The Cyclops choked, trying to swallow the unexpected pill. He staggered backward, but there was no place to stagger. His heel slipped, the edge of the cliff crumbled, and the great Polyphemus made frantic flapping motions with his arms that did nothing to help him fly as he tumbled head-over-heels into the chasm.

I turned.

Halfway down the path to the beach, standing completely unharmed in the midst of a flock of killer sheep, was one of the best sights I had ever seen.

"Bad Polyphemus," Tyson said scoldingly. "Not all Cyclopes as nice as we look."

Tyson gave us the short version: Rainbow the hippocampus— who'd apparently been following us ever since the Long Island Sound, waiting for Tyson to play with him again— had found Tyson sinking beneath the wreckage of the CSS Birmingham and pulled him to safety. He and Tyson had been searching the Sea of Monsters ever since, trying to find us, until Tyson had caught the scent of sheep and found this island.

I desperately wanted to hug him and reassure myself that this was real, except he was standing in the middle of the pack of killer sheep. "Tyson, thank the gods." I took in a gasping breath. "Luke's hurt!"

"You thank the gods that he is hurt?" he asked, puzzled.

"No!" I knelt beside Luke and was horrified by what I saw. The gash on his forehead was worse than I'd realized. His hairline was sticky with blood. His skin was pale and clammy.

Grover and I exchanged nervous looks, and I was conscious of the fact that we had no ambrosia or nectar with us. 

Then an idea came to me. "Tyson, the Fleece. Can you get it for me?"

"Which one?" Tyson said, looking around at the hundreds of sheep.

"In the tree!" I replied, pointing at him urgently. "The gold one! Hurry!"

"Oh. Pretty. Yes."

Tyson lumbered over, careful not to step on the sheep. If any of us had tried to approach the Fleece, we would've been eaten alive, but I guess Tyson smelled like Polyphemus, because the flock didn't bother him at all. They just cuddled up to him and bleated affectionately, as though they expected to get sheep treats from the big wicker basket. Tyson reached up and lifted the Fleece off its branch. Immediately the leaves on the oak tree turned yellow. Tyson started wading back toward me, but I yelled, "There's no time! Just throw it!"

The gold ram skin sailed through the air like a glittering shag Frisbee. I caught it with a grunt.

It was heavier than I'd expected— sixty or seventy pounds of precious gold wool.

I spread it over Luke, covering everything but his face, and prayed silently to all the gods I could think of, even the ones I didn't like.

Please. Please.

The color returned to his face. His eyelids fluttered open. The cut on his forehead began to close, though his hair was still dark with crimson blood. 

He saw Grover and grinned weakly. "You're not... married?"

Grover grinned. "No. My friends objected. Said they wouldn't give me any presents if I said I do." 

Luke let out a weak laugh at that, and a smile played on my lips as I continued to adjust the Fleece. Luke started trying to push himself up.

"Luke," I said, trying to press him back down. "Just stay still."

But despite our protests he sat up, and I noticed that the cut on his face was almost completely healed now. He looked a lot better, thank the gods. He almost seemed to shimmer with health, as if someone had injected him with glitter.

Meanwhile, Tyson was starting to have trouble with the sheep. "Down!" he told them as they tried to climb him, looking for food. A few were sniffing in our direction. "No, sheepies. This way! Come here!"

They heeded him, but it was obvious they were hungry, and they were starting to realize Tyson didn't have any treats for them. They wouldn't hold out forever with so much fresh meat nearby.

"We have to go," I said, beginning to feel anxious again. "Our ship is..." The Queen Anne's Revenge was a very long way away. The shortest route was across the chasm, and we'd just destroyed the only bridge. The only other possibility was through the sheep. Shit.

"Tyson," I called, "can you lead the flock as far away as possible?"

"The sheep want food."

"I know! They want to have people for food! Just lead them away from the path. Give us time to get to the beach. Then join us there."

Tyson looked doubtful, but he whistled. "Come, sheepies! Um, people for food this way!"

He jogged off into the meadow, the sheep in pursuit.

"Keep the Fleece around you," I told Luke firmly. "Just in case you're not fully healed yet. Can you stand?"

He tried, but his face turned pale again. "Urrgghh. Definitely not fully healed."

Clarisse dropped next to him and felt his chest, making him gasp.

"His ribs are broken," Clarisse diagnosed grimly. "They're mending, but they're definitely broken."

"Fuck," I replied promptly.

"I'll have to carry him," Clarisse declared, as she picked up Luke like a sack of flour and began to lug him down to the beach. Grover and I followed, me holding my sword at the ready, just in case.

As soon as we got to the edge of the water, I concentrated on the Queen Anne's Revenge. I willed it to raise anchor and come to me. After a few anxious minutes, I saw the ship rounding the tip of the island.

"Incoming!" Tyson yelled. He was bounding down the path to join us, the sheep about fifty yards behind, bleating in frustration as their Cyclops friend ran away without feeding them.

"They probably won't follow us into the water," I told the others. "All we have to do is swim for the ship."

"With Luke like this?" Clarisse protested.

"We can do it," I insisted. I was starting to feel confident again. I was back in my home turf— the sea. I could beat anything once I was in the water, I knew it. "Once we get to the ship, we're home free."

We almost made it, too.

We were just wading past the entrance to the ravine, when we heard a tremendous roar and saw Polyphemus, scraped up and bruised but still very much alive, his baby-blue wedding outfit in tatters, splashing toward us with a boulder in each hand.

"You have got to be kidding me," Luke groaned, glaring at the Cyclops as Clarisse and I worked together to pull him through the water.

*    *    *

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#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.3 caribbean post cards

warnings : probably some cussing and mention of a fight

word count : 3.2k

1.3 The Caribbean Death Island that I Expected Doesn't Look Quite So... Death-y

When you think "monster island," you think jagged rocks and bones scattered on the beach like the Island of the Sirens. Right?

Well, Polyphemus' island was nothing like that. I mean, okay, it had a rope bridge across a chasm, which was not a good sign. You might as well put up a billboard that said, SOMETHING EVIL LIVES HERE. But except for that, the place looked like a Caribbean postcard. It had green fields and tropical fruit trees and white beaches. As we sailed toward the shore, Luke breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," he said, his voice almost reverent.

I nodded. I couldn't see the Fleece yet, but I could feel its power. I could believe it would heal anything. Even Thalia's poisoned tree.

"If we take it away, will the island die?"

Luke shook his head. "I don't think so. It should fade. Go back to what it would normally be, whatever that is."

I felt a little guilty about ruining this paradise, (which wasn't good because that just piled on top of the guilt I already felt after Circe's Island), but I reminded myself we had no choice. Camp Half-Blood was in trouble. And Tyson... Tyson would still be with us if it wasn't for this quest. The least I could do was make sure that his sacrifice wasn't in vain.

In the meadow at the base of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge. I mean they were like the size of hippos. Just past them was a path that led up into the hills. At the top of the path, near the edge of the canyon, was the massive oak tree I'd seen in my dreams. Something gold glittered in its branches.

"This is too easy," I said, suspicion oozing from me. "We just hike up there and take it? No way, nothing's ever that simple."

Luke's eyes narrowed. He looked as wary as I felt. "Didn't the Cyclops say something about a pet in your dream?"

That was when a deer emerged from the bushes. It trotted into the meadow, probably looking for grass to eat, when the sheep all bleated at once and rushed the animal. It happened so fast that the deer stumbled and was lost in a sea of wool and trampling hooves.

Grass and tufts of fur flew into the air.

A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones. I felt bile rise in my throat at the horrifying sight.

Luke and I exchanged looks.

"They're like piranhas," he grimaced, looking ill.

"Piranhas with wool. How will we—"

"Angel!" Luke gasped abruptly, grabbing my arm. "Look."

He pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where a small boat had been run aground... the other lifeboat from the CSS Birmingham.

We decided that there was no way we could get past the man-eating sheep. Luke wanted to fly over and grab the Fleece, but in the end, I convinced him that something would go wrong. The sheep would smell him. Another guardian would appear. Something. And if that happened, I'd be too far away to help. And if he tried carrying me with him, it would just take away one of his hands and he'd probably need both. No, we had to figure out another plan.

Besides all of that, our first job was to find Grover and whoever had come ashore in that lifeboat— assuming they'd gotten past the sheep. I was too nervous to say what I was secretly hoping... that Tyson might still be alive.

We moored the Queen Anne's Revenge on the backside of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. I figured the ship was less likely to be seen there. The cliffs looked climbable, barely— about as difficult as the lava wall back at camp. At least it was free of sheep. I hoped that Polyphemus didn't keep carnivorous mountain goats too.

We rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made our way up, very slowly. Luke went first because he was the better climber, and had the flying ability. And, not to mention, I was still in a dress.

We only came close to dying six or seven times, which I thought was pretty good. Once, I lost my grip and I found myself dangling by one hand from a ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But I found another handhold and kept climbing. A minute later Luke hit a slippery patch of moss and his foot slipped. Fortunately, he found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was on my face.

"Sorry," he muttered with a wince.

"Really, I could've done without the matching bruise on my other cheek. You owe me something really spectacular, Castellan," I grumbled back. "Or else everyone in Camp finds out about Luke the Guinea Pig."

"Noted."

Finally, when my fingers felt like molten lead and my arm muscles were shaking from exhaustion, we hauled ourselves over the top of the cliff and collapsed.

"Ugh," I mumbled into the grass. It smelt freshly cut.

"Ouch," moaned Luke.

"Garrr!" bellowed another voice.

If I hadn't been so tired, I would've leaped another two hundred feet. I managed to scramble up and whirled around, but I couldn't see who'd spoken.

Luke clamped his hand over my mouth and pointed, pulling me to his chest with his other arm and dragging me back down to the ground.

The ledge we were sitting on was narrower than I'd realized. It dropped off on the opposite side, and that's where the voice was coming from— right below us.

"You're a feisty one!" the deep voice bellowed.

"Challenge me!" Clarisse's voice, no doubt about it. Thank the gods, she was still alive. Though maybe not for long if she didn't shut up. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

The monster roared with laughter.

Luke and I crept to the edge. We were right above the entrance of the cave.

Below us stood Polyphemus and Grover, still in his wedding dress. Clarisse was tied up, hanging upside down over a pot of boiling water. I was half hoping to see Tyson down there, too. Even if he'd been in danger, at least I would've known he was alive. But there was no sign of him. I forced myself to push it away, and focus on my living friends.

"Hmm," Polyphemus pondered. "Eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

He turned to Grover, who backed up and almost tripped over his completed bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did you say bride?" Clarisse demanded. "Who— Grover?"

"Shut up," I muttered desperately. I loved Clarisse, but did she have to be so damn hot headed? I blamed Ares. "She has to shut up."

Polyphemus glowered. "What 'Grover'?"

"The satyr!" Clarisse yelled.

"Oh!" Grover yelped. "The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water. Pull her down, dear!"

Polyphemus' eyelids narrowed over his baleful milky eye, as if he were trying to see Clarisse more clearly.

The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight than he had been in my dreams. Partly because his rancid smell was now up close and personal, partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit— a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby-blue tuxedos, as if he had skinned an entire wedding party. 

"What satyr?" asked Polyphemus. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"

"No, you big idiot!" bellowed Clarisse. "That satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!"

I wanted to wring Clarisse's neck, as much as I loved her, but it was too late. All I could do was watch as Polyphemus turned and ripped off Grover's wedding veil— revealing his curly hair, his scruffy adolescent beard, his tiny horns.

Polyphemus breathed heavily, trying to contain his anger. "I don't see very well," he growled. "Not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in the eye. But YOU'RE— NO— LADY— CYCLOPS!"

The Cyclops grabbed Grover's dress and tore it away. Underneath, the old Grover reappeared in his jeans and T-shirt. He yelped and ducked as the monster swiped over his head.

"Stop!" Grover pleaded. "Don't eat me raw! I— I have a good recipe!"

I reached for my swords, but Luke stopped me. "Wait!"

Polyphemus was hesitating, a large boulder clutched in his hand, ready to smash his would-be bride into a million furry pieces.

"Recipe?" he asked Grover.

"Oh y-yes! You don't want to eat me raw. You'll get E. coli and botulism and all sorts of horrible things. I'll taste much better grilled over a slow fire. With mango chutney! You could go get some mangos right now, down there in the woods. I'll just wait here."

The monster pondered this. My heart hammered against my ribs. I figured I'd die if I charged.

But I couldn't let the monster kill Grover and Clarisse.

"Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked back at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. "You a satyr, too?"

"No, you overgrown pile of dung!" she yelled. "I'm a girl! The daughter of Ares! Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!"

"Rip my arms off," Polyphemus repeated.

"And stuff them down your throat!"

"You got spunk."

"Let me down!"

Polyphemus snatched up Grover as if he were a wayward puppy. "Have to graze sheep now. Wedding postponed until tonight. Then we will eat satyr with mango chutney for the main course!"

"But... you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. I slammed my head on the ground in frustration and Luke muttered a prayer as we both realized where this was going. "Who's the bride?"

Polyphemus looked toward the boiling pot.

Clarisse made a strangled sound. "Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not—"

Before Luke or I could do anything, Polyphemus plucked her off the rope like she was a ripe apple, and tossed her and Grover deep into the cave. "Make yourself comfortable! I come back at sundown for big event!"

Then the Cyclops whistled, and a mixed flock of goats and sheep— smaller than the man-eaters— flooded out of the cave and past their master. As they went to pasture, Polyphemus patted some on the back and called them by name— Beltbuster, Tammany, Lockhart, etc.

When the last sheep had waddled out, Polyphemus rolled a boulder in front of the doorway as easily as I would close a refrigerator door, shutting off the sound of Clarisse and Grover screaming inside.

"Mangos," Polyphemus grumbled to himself. "What are mangos?"

He strolled off down the mountain in his baby-blue groom's outfit, leaving us alone with a pot of boiling water and a six-ton boulder.

We tried for what seemed like hours, but it was no good. The boulder wouldn't move. We yelled into the cracks, tapped on the rock, did everything we could think of to get a signal to Grover, but if he heard us, we couldn't tell.

Even if by some miracle we managed to kill Polyphemus, it wouldn't do us any good. Grover and Clarisse would die inside that sealed cave. The only way to move the rock was to have the Cyclops do it.

In total frustration, I stabbed Riptide against the boulder. Sparks flew, but nothing else happened. A large rock is not the kind of enemy you can fight with a magic sword. That seriously pissed me off. I mean come on, what am I supposed to do with a boulder as an enemy? That's just not fair!

Luke and I sat on the ridge in despair and watched the distant baby-blue shape of the Cyclops as he moved among his flocks. He had wisely divided his regular animals from his man-eating sheep, putting each group on either side of the huge crevice that divided the island. The only way across was the rope bridge, and the planks were much too far apart for sheep hooves.

We watched as Polyphemus visited his carnivorous flock on the far side. Unfortunately, they didn't eat him. In fact, they didn't seem to bother him at all. He fed them chunks of mystery meat from a great wicker basket, which made me feel like I should join Grover and become a vegetarian.

"Trickery," Luke decided. "We can't beat him by force, so we'll have to use trickery." Easy for him to say. His father was literally the god of tricks.

"Okay," I agreed. "What trick?" If anyone was making a plan for tricks, it would have to be Luke, because I was more of an on-the-spot thinker. Besides, there's that quote 'No plan survives first contact with the enemy.' I'm really better off just going with my instincts.

"Uh, gimme a moment."

"Oh, go ahead. We've got time, after all. Not like our friends' lives and virtues are at stake, or anything. Go on, why not have a nap for a while?"

Luke shot me a half-annoyed, half-embarrassed look, which I met with my typical expression of defiance.

"Polyphemus will have to move the rock to let the sheep inside," he mused.

"At sunset," I confirmed. "Which is when he'll marry Clarisse and have Grover for dinner. I'm not sure which is more horrifying."

"The sheep," Luke muttered. He gave me one of those sly looks that always made me wary. "How much do you like sheep?"

***

"Just don't let go!" Luke urged me from wherever it was that he was hidden. Easy for him to say, he wasn't hanging upside down from the belly of a sheep.

Oh, I was so going to tell everybody about the guinea pig thing. At least if we lived. If we didn't, I'd at least tell Grover and Clarisse.

Now, I'll admit that it wasn't as hard as I'd thought it would be. I'd crawled under a car before to— well, for various reasons, and this wasn't too different. The sheep didn't care. Even the Cyclops's smallest sheep were big enough to support my weight, and they had thick wool. I just twirled the stuff into handles for my hands, hooked my feet against the sheep's thigh bones, and presto— I felt like a baby wallaby, riding around against the sheep's chest, trying to keep the wool out of my mouth and my nose.

In case you're wondering, the underside of a sheep doesn't smell that great. Imagine a winter sweater that's been dragged through the mud and left in the laundry hamper for a week.

Something like that. Gods, I hate my life.

The sun was starting to go down, and no sooner was I in position than the Cyclops roared, "Oy! Goaties! Sheepies!"

The flock dutifully began trudging back up the slopes toward the cave.

"Good luck," Luke muttered to me.

"Right back atcha," I replied as my sheep taxi started plodding up the hill. After a hundred yards, my hands and feet started to hurt from holding on. I gripped the sheep's wool more tightly, and the animal made a gurgling sound. I didn't blame it. I wouldn't want anybody rock climbing in my hair either. But if I didn't hold on, I was sure I'd fall off right there in front of the monster.

"Hasenpfeffer!" the Cyclops said, patting one of the sheep in front of me. "Einstein! Widget— eh there, Widget!"

Polyphemus patted my sheep and nearly knocked me to the ground. "Putting on some extra mutton there?"

Shit, I thought. Here it comes.

But Polyphemus just laughed and swatted the sheep's rear end, propelling us forward. "Go on, fatty! Soon Polyphemus will eat you for breakfast!"

And then, just like that, I was in the cave.

I could see the last of the sheep coming inside. If Luke didn't pull off his distraction soon...

The Cyclops was about to roll the stone back into place, when from somewhere outside Luke shouted, "Hey, ugly!"

Polyphemus stiffened. "Who said that?"

"Nobody!" Luke yelled.

That got exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. The monster's face turned a splotchy red with rage.

"Nobody!" Polyphemus yelled back. "I remember you!"

"You're too stupid to remember anybody," Luke taunted. "Much less Nobody."

I hoped to the gods that he was already moving when he said that, because Polyphemus bellowed furiously, grabbed the nearest boulder (which happened to be his front door) and threw it with all his strength (at least I hoped it was all of his strength). I heard the rock smash into a thousand fragments.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Luke shouted, "You haven't learned to throw any better, either!"

Polyphemus howled. "Come here! Let me kill you, Nobody!"

"You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf," he taunted, voice full of mockery. "Come find me!"

Polyphemus barrelled down the hill toward his voice.

Now, the "Nobody" thing wouldn't have made sense to most people, but Luke had reminded me that it was the name Odysseus had used to trick Polyphemus centuries ago, right before he poked the Cyclops's eye out with a large hot stick. We both figured that Polyphemus would still have a grudge about that name, and we were right.

In his frenzy to find his old enemy, he forgot about resealing the cave entrance. Apparently, he didn't even stop to consider that Luke's voice was coming from above him, not level with. On the other hand, he'd wanted to marry Grover, so he couldn't have been all that bright.

I just hoped that Luke could stay alive and keep distracting him long enough for me to find Grover and Clarisse.

I dropped off my ride, patted Widget on the head, and apologized. I searched the main room, but there was no sign of Grover or Clarisse. I pushed through the crowd of sheep and goats toward the back of the cave.

Even though I'd dreamed about this place, I had a hard time finding my way through the maze. I ran down corridors littered with bones, past rooms full of sheepskin rugs and life-size cement sheep that I recognized as the work of Medusa. There were collections of sheep T-shirts; large tubs of lanolin cream; and wooly coats, socks, and hats with ram's horns. Finally, I found the spinning room, where Grover was huddled in the corner, trying to cut Clarisse's bonds with a pair of safety scissors.

"It's no good," Clarisse said. "This rope is like iron!"

"Just a few more minutes!"

"Grover," she cried, exasperated. "You've been working at it for hours!"

And then they saw me.

"Allie?" Clarisse said. "You're alive!"

"Good to see you, too. Now hold still while I—"

"Aaalllliiieeee!" Grover bleated and tackled me with a goat-hug. "You heard me! You came!"

"Yeah, buddy," I said, patting him fondly on the back. "Of course I came."

"Where's Luke?"

"Outside," I said. "But there's no time to talk. Clarisse, hold still."

I drew Riptide and sliced off her ropes. She stood stiffly, rubbing her wrists. She glared at me for a moment, then looked at the ground and mumbled, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I said. "Now, was anyone else onboard your lifeboat?"

Clarisse looked surprised and a bit confused at the question. "No. It was just me. Everybody else aboard the Birmingham... well, I didn't even know you guys made it out."

I looked down, trying not to believe that my last hope of seeing Tyson alive had just been crushed. "Okay. Come on, then. We have to help—"

An explosion echoed through the cave, followed by a scream that told me we might be too late. It was Luke crying out.

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#alliejackson #asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.2 swimming with sirens

warnings : cussing, injury (minor), some angst for the heart

word count : 4.2k

1.2 The Worst Part Isn't the Dream; It's the Fact that a Dream is All it Will Ever Be

Save for sword fighting, nothing had ever come to me so naturally before. It was almost as second-nature to me as breathing underwater. 

The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to my every command. I knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer. We plowed through the waves at what I figured was about twenty-five knots. I even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty damn fast. In fact, if I hadn't been on it, the old ship would have broken into a million pieces from the strain of moving so quickly.

It all felt perfect— the wind in my face, the waves breaking over the prow.

But now that we were out of danger, all I could think about was how much I missed Tyson, and how worried I was about Grover.

And I couldn't get over how badly I'd messed up on Circe's Island. Yes, I had saved Luke, but at what cost? I thought of Reyna and Hylla, and how I'd just destroyed their lives and their homes, all in one day. I doubted they knew how to fight properly. Even if they were demigods, you still needed a certain amount of training to overcome strong opponents. What would the pirates, the worst crew to ever sail, do to a pair of pretty young girls? The dark thoughts ran through my mind, and I forced myself to concentrate on controlling the ship instead of Circe's island.

We sailed all through the night. Luke fell asleep after a few hours, but the energy I got from the sea kept me wide awake. I watched the horizon. More than once I spotted monsters, bracing myself to be attacked each time. I stayed at the very front of the ship, the wind blowing my dress and legs getting sprayed by saltwater every so often.

A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spewed into the moonlight. A row of green spines slithered across the waves— something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian. I didn't really want to know.

Once I saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. I tried to wave at them, because I genuinely liked water spirits, regardless of Silena's feud with them. But they disappeared into the depths of the ocean, leaving me unsure of whether or not they had seen me.

Sometime after midnight, Luke woke up again. We were just passing a smoking volcano island. The sea bubbled and steamed around the shore.

"One of the forges of Hephaestus," Luke said, pointing at it and effectively scaring the shit out of me. "Where he makes his metal monsters."

"Automatons?"

He nodded. "Go around. Far around."

I didn't need to be told twice. We steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind us.

I looked at Luke, who was already staring at me, making me blush. "The reason you hate Cyclopes so much... the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?"

It was hard to see his expression in the dark. But I knew Luke, and I knew how he got when it came to his taboo subjects, so I could give a pretty good guess.

"I guess you deserve to know," he said finally. "When Grover was taking us to camp, he got confused, ended up taking some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?"

I nodded, staying silent.

"Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops's lair in Brooklyn."

"Damn," I said frankly. I thought his lips might have twitched slightly, but it was hard to tell in the dark.

"No kidding, but anyway. This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone, Allie. Just like Tyson did aboard the Princess Andromeda. He lured us, one at a time. Thalia thought she was running to save me. I thought that I heard Annabeth scream for help. And Annabeth... she was alone in the dark. She was seven years old. None of us could find the exit."

He looked away, running a hand through his gold curls. I could imagine the pained anger on his face as he told me. 

"Thalia, Grover, and I were tied up and gagged, hanging from the ceiling like smoked hams in a butcher's shop, or something. Annabeth stumbled on the main room, and gods, Allie. I was so terrified for her. The Cyclops was starting a fire in the middle of the floor. She drew her knife, but he heard her. He turned and smiled. He spoke, and somehow he knew her dad's voice. I guess he just plucked it out of her mind. He said, 'Now, Annabeth, don't you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. You can stay forever.'"

I shivered. It was a horrifying picture, but one that I could easily imagine. I had been in a Cyclops' lair myself, after all. During Christmas. It had been stupid of me, but I had wanted the girls— Silena, Nessa, Clarisse, Katie, and a new girl, Lou Ellen— to have a normal-ish Christmas. I'd taken them with me out of the borders of Camp to go Christmas shopping around Manhattan. We'd taken a wrong turn down an alleyway and found out the hard way why a whole bunch of high-powered (and therefore heavily scented) half-bloods shouldn't wander around a big city together with little concern. Chiron had warned me heavily against taking the girls on that trip, so we never told anyone that it happened. I hadn't even told Luke.

"What happened?"

"Annabeth stabbed him in the foot."

I stared at him in shock. "Are you kidding? She was seven-years-old and she stabbed a grown Cyclops in the foot?"

"Oh, he would've killed her. But she surprised him. It gave her just enough time to run to Thalia and cut the ropes on her hands. Thalia took it from there."

"Still," I murmured. "That was impressive."

He gave a bitter smile. "We barely got out alive. I still have nightmares, Allie. It was his fault we took so long getting to camp. All the monsters who'd been chasing us had time to catch up, and I was wounded. That's really why Thalia died. If it hadn't been for that Cyclops, she'd still be alive today."

There was nothing else to be said, so we just sat on the deck, watching the Hercules constellation rise in the night sky.

Luke reached out and smoothed my curls down. "Go to bed, Angel," Luke told me eventually, his tone gentle. "You need some rest."

I nodded. My eyes were heavy, and I needed energy to fight Polyphemus tomorrow. But when I got below and found a hammock, it took me a long time to fall asleep. I took off the stilettos, but the dress was so comfortable, I had to keep it on. Plus, it was a lot cleaner than my other clothes. 

I kept thinking about Luke's story. I wondered what would have happened if Thalia had survived. Would I still be the Prophecy Child? For one single, selfish moment, I wished that the daughter of Zeus was the one forced to hold the weight of the world on her shoulders. I sure as hell didn't feel up to saving the world, no matter that I had technically done so already, last summer.

For the first time in days, I didn't dream about Grover.

Instead, I found myself back in the stateroom aboard the Princess Andromeda. The curtains were open. It was night-time outside. The air swirled with shadows. Voices whispered all around me— spirits of the dead.

Beware, they whispered. Traps. Trickery.

My fingers itched for Riptide and Shaker, even though I knew that it was a dream, and I could do nothing to affect my surroundings. Kronos's golden sarcophagus glowed faintly— the only source of light in the room.

A cold laugh startled me. It seemed to come from miles below the ship. You don't have the courage, pretty, little one. You can't stop me.

I knew what I had to do. I had to open that coffin.

I summoned Riptide. Ghosts whirled around me like a tornado. Beware!

My heart pounded. I couldn't make my feet move, but I had to stop Kronos. I had to destroy whatever was in that box.

Then a girl spoke right next to me: "Well, Kelp Head?"

I looked over, inhaling sharply as I recognized her. She wore punk-style clothes with silver chains on her wrists. She had spiky black hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy blue eyes, and a spray of freckles across her nose. I had seen her in one of Luke's old photos. Thalia, Daughter of Zeus.

"Well?" she asked. "Are we going to stop him or not?"

I couldn't answer. I couldn't move.

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Fine. Leave it to me and Aegis."

She tapped her wrist and her silver chains transformed— flattening and expanding into a huge shield. It was silver and bronze, with the monstrous face of Medusa protruding from the center. It looked like a death mask, as if the gorgon's real head had been pressed into the metal. Luke had mentioned that Thalia had a replica of it, once.

I didn't know if that was true, or if the shield could really petrify me, but I looked away. Just being near it made me cold with fear. I got a feeling that in a real fight, the bearer of that shield would be almost impossible to beat. Any sane enemy would turn and run.

Thalia turned her mace canister into a spear and advanced on the sarcophagus. The shadowy ghosts parted for her, scattering before the terrible sight and aura of her shield.

"No," I tried to warn her.

But she didn't listen. She marched straight up to the sarcophagus and pushed aside the golden lid.

For a moment she stood there, gazing down at whatever was in the box.

The coffin began to glow.

"No." Thalia's voice trembled. "It can't be."

From the depths of the ocean, Kronos laughed so loudly the whole ship trembled.

"No!" Thalia screamed in horror, just as the sarcophagus engulfed her in a blast of a golden light.

"Ah!" I sat bolt upright in my hammock.

Luke was shaking me. "Angel, you were having a nightmare. You need to get up."

"Wh— what is it?" I rubbed my eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Land," he said grimly, running his hands over my soulders. "We're approaching the island of the Sirens."

I could barely make out the island ahead of us— just a dark spot in the mist.

I remembered stories about the Sirens. They sang so sweetly their voices enchanted sailors and lured them to their death.

"It's no problem," I assured him. "We can just stop up our ears. There's a big tub of candle wax below deck—"

"I want to hear them."

I blinked, staring at him like he was a lunatic. "Why?"

"They say the Sirens sing the truth about what you desire," he pointed out. I remembered Chiron's lecture. "They tell you things about yourself you didn't even realize. That's what's so enchanting. I want to hear them. How often will I get that chance?"

"Luke," I groaned. "This is insane. Do you have a death wish?"

"I want to do this," he insisted. "You're my friend, you should respect my decisions."

"As your friend, I should prevent you from committing suicide," I retorted.

He glared at me, setting his jaw in a stubborn position and making me swear. 

He told me his plan and, reluctantly, I helped him get ready.

As the rocky coastline of the island came into view, I gagged him and used one of the ropes to tie him to the foremast.

"I'll make sure that you stay there," I promised. Then I took two large wads of candle wax, kneaded them into earplugs, and stuffed my ears.

He made a face at me and I rolled my eyes and turned to the pilot's wheel.

At first, there was an eerie silence. I couldn't hear anything but the waves, slapping against the boat. As we approached the island, jagged rocks loomed out of the fog. I willed the Queen Anne's Revenge to skirt around them. If we sailed any closer, those rocks would shred our hull like blender blades.

I glanced back. At first, Luke seemed totally normal. Then he got a puzzled look on his face. His eyes widened. He strained against the ropes. He called my name— I could tell just from reading his lips. His expression was clear: He had to get out. This was life or death. I had to let him out of the ropes right now. 

He seemed so miserable it was hard not to cut him free. I forced myself to look away. I urged the Queen Anne's Revenge to go faster. I still couldn't see much of the island— just mist and rocks— but floating in the water were pieces of wood and fiberglass, the wreckage of old ships, even some flotation cushions from airplanes. How could music cause so many lives to veer off course? I mean, sure, there were some Top Forty songs that made me want to take a fiery nosedive, but still... What could the Sirens possibly sing about? 

For one very dangerous moment, I understood Luke's curiosity. I was tempted to take out the earplugs, just to get a taste of the song. I could feel the Sirens' voices vibrating in the timbers of the ship, pulsing along with the roar of blood in my ears. Luke was pleading with me. He strained against the ropes, as if they were holding him back from everything he cared about. How could you be so cruel? He seemed to be asking me. I thought you were my friend. 

I glared at the misty island. I wanted to uncap my sword, but there was nothing to fight. How do you fight a song? I tried hard not to look at Luke. I managed it for about five minutes. That was my big mistake. 

When I couldn't stand it any longer, I looked back and found... a heap of cut ropes. An empty mast. A swiss army knife lay on the deck. Somehow, he'd managed to wriggle it into his hand. I'd totally forgotten to check if he had more weapons aside from his sword. I rushed to the side of the boat and saw him, paddling madly for the island, the waves carrying him straight toward the jagged rocks.

I screamed his name, but if he heard me, it didn't do any good. He was entranced, swimming toward his death. I looked back at the pilot's wheel and yelled, "Stay!" Then I jumped over the side. 

I sliced into the water and willed the currents to bend around me, making a jet stream that shot me forward. I came to the surface and spotted Luke, but a wave caught him, sweeping him between two razor-sharp fangs of rock. I had no choice. I plunged after him. I dove under the wrecked hull of a yacht, wove through a collection of floating metal balls on chains that I realized afterward were mines. 

I had to use all my power over water to avoid getting smashed against the rocks or tangled in the nets of barbed wire strung just below the surface. I jetted between the two rock fangs and found myself in a half-moon-shaped bay. The water was choked with more rocks and ship wreckage and floating mines. The beach was black volcanic sand. I looked around desperately for Luke. There he was. 

Luckily or unluckily, at that very moment, he was a strong swimmer, unlike most other times he'd tried. He'd made it past the mines and the rocks. He was almost to the black beach. Then the mist cleared and I saw them— the Sirens. Imagine a flock of vultures the size of people— with dirty black plumage, gray talons, and wrinkled pink necks. Now, imagine human heads on top of those necks, but the human heads keep changing. 

I couldn't hear them, but I could see they were singing. As their mouths moved, their faces morphed into people I knew— my mom, Poseidon, Grover, Tyson, Chiron. All the people I most wanted to see. They smiled reassuringly, inviting me forward. But no matter what shape they took, their mouths were greasy and caked with the remnants of old meals. Like vultures, they'd been eating with their faces, and it didn't look like they'd been feasting on Monster Donuts. Luke swam toward them. I knew I couldn't let him get out of the water. The sea was my only advantage. It had always protected me one way or another. I propelled myself forward and grabbed his ankle. 

The moment I touched him, a shock went through my body, and I saw the Sirens the way Luke must've been seeing them.

Four people sat on a picnic blanket in Central Park. A feast was spread out before them. I recognized Luke's mom from a photo he'd shown me— a frail-looking, brown-haired woman in her forties. She was holding hands with a handsome man who I knew to be Hermes. Next to them sat Thalia and Annabeth. The whole scene glowed in a warm, buttery light. The four of them were talking and laughing, and when they saw Luke, their faces lit up with delight. Luke's mom and dad held out their arms invitingly. Annabeth grinned and gestured for Luke to sit next to her— as if she'd never betrayed him, as if she were still his friend. 

Behind the trees of Central Park, a city skyline rose. I caught my breath, because it was Manhattan, but not Manhattan. It had been totally rebuilt from dazzling white marble, bigger and grander than ever— with golden windows and rooftop gardens. It was better than New York. Better than Mount Olympus. I knew immediately that Annabeth had designed it all. Luke once told me how much she loved architecture. Luke had reunited his parents. He'd saved Annabeth and Thalia. His family was complete. He had done everything he'd ever wanted. 

I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes, all I saw were the Sirens— ragged vultures with human faces, ready to feed on another victim. Another siren walked over to the rest and I knew it would be a great time to get us out of this situation. I pulled Luke back into the surf. I couldn't hear him, but I could tell he was screaming. He kicked me in the face, which didn't feel great, but I refused to let go. 

I willed the currents to carry us out into the bay. Luke pummeled and kicked me, making it hard to concentrate. He thrashed so much we almost collided with a floating mine. I didn't know what to do. I'd never get back to the ship alive if he kept fighting. We went under and Luke stopped struggling. His expression became confused. Then our heads broke the surface and he started to fight again. 

The water! Sound didn't travel well underwater. If I could submerge him long enough, I could break the spell of the music. Of course, Luke wouldn't be able to breathe, but in the moment, that seemed like a minor problem. I grabbed him around the waist and ordered the waves to push us down. We shot into the depths— ten feet, twenty feet. I knew I had to be careful because I could withstand a lot more pressure than Luke. He fought and struggled for breath as bubbles rose around us. Bubbles. I was desperate. I had to keep Luke alive. I imagined all the bubbles in the sea— always churning, rising. I imagined them coming together, being pulled toward me.

The sea obeyed. There was a flurry of white, a tickling sensation all around me, and when my vision cleared, Luke and I had a huge bubble of air around us. Only our legs stuck into the water.

I panted from the exertion. He gasped and coughed. His whole body shuddered, but when he looked at me, I knew the spell had been broken. He started to sob— I mean horrible, heartbroken sobbing. He burrowed his head into the crook of my neck and shoulder, gripping onto the fabric of my dress as though it was the only thing that could tether him to the Earth. I wrapped my arms around him in turn, one hand traveling up to his hair to smooth down the wet strands. 

Fish gathered to look at us— a school of barracudas, some curious marlins. 

Scram! I told them. They swam off, but I could tell they went reluctantly. I could've sworn I understood their intentions. They were about to start rumors flying around the sea about the daughter of Poseidon and some dude at the bottom of Siren Bay. 

"I'll get us back to the ship," I told him. "It's okay. Just hang on." Luke nodded to let me know he was better now, then he murmured something I couldn't hear because of the wax in my ears and held onto me a little tighter. 

I made the current steer our weird little air submarine through the rocks and barbed wire and back toward the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge, which was maintaining a slow and steady course away from the island. We stayed underwater, following the ship, until I judged we had moved out of earshot of the Sirens. 

Then, I surfaced and our air bubble popped. I ordered a rope ladder to drop over the side of the ship, and we climbed aboard. I kept my earplugs in, just to be sure. 

We sailed until the island was completely out of sight. Luke sat huddled in a blanket on the forward deck. Finally, he looked up, dazed and sad, and mouthed, safe. I took out the earplugs. No singing. The afternoon was quiet except for the sound of the waves against the hull. 

The fog had burned away to a blue sky, as if the island of the Sirens had never existed. "You okay?" I asked, walking over and sitting next to him. The moment I said it, I realized how stupid that sounded. Of course, he wasn't okay. 

"I didn't realize," he murmured. 

"What?" 

His eyes were the same deep blue color as the water in Sirens' Bay. "How powerful the temptation would be." 

I didn't want to admit that I'd seen what the Sirens had promised him. I felt like a trespasser. I was about to start, but he beat me to saying something.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sitting up and reaching out to touch my face, rubbing his thumb over a sore spot on my cheekbone. "I think I got you pretty good. There's a huge red mark forming on your cheek. Looks like you're gonna have a pretty bad bruise in the morning."

"I'm fine," I said, nodding shortly, grabbing gently onto his wrist that hadn't moved from my face.

"How did you manage to catch up to me so fast?"

"Daughter of Poseidon, remember? I think the real question is: How did you not die?" 

"I don't know. I know I was about to, but the waves kept pushing me back but also keeping me from hitting stuff."

He gave me a knowing look, but I couldn't meet his gaze. My father had helped me save Luke's life. How in Tartarus was I supposed to react to something like that? It put me completely off-balance.

My hair was still dry, thank the gods, and I tugged on the elegant curls. Thankfully, Luke didn't push. The afternoon was quiet except for the sound of the waves against the hull. The fog had burned away to a blue sky, as if the island of the Sirens had never existed.

"I saw," I admitted suddenly. He looked at me sharply and I felt my blood run cold. "What the Sirens showed you. I saw it when I touched you."

He stood up sharply, moving to pick up the knife he'd used to cut himself free. For a moment I thought he was going to gut me like a fish, but he just put it back on his belt, near his sword. "Yeah, well, it's a pipe dream," he said harshly. "Thalia is still dead and Annabeth isn't coming back. None of that's ever gonna happen. And you—"

"Me?" I asked, not knowing what he was talking about. 

His gaze turned sharper but seemed to realize my confusion was real. "Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Nothing."

I didn't reply for a moment, not really knowing how. "Was it worth it?" I asked.

He bit his lip and dropped his hand from my face. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice soft.

We were quiet for a while after that. I kept a lookout, while Luke leaned against the mast, brooding over what he'd seen. 

Suddenly Luke's eyes widened. "Angel."

I looked up.

Up ahead was another blotch of land— a saddle-shaped island with forested hills and white beaches and green meadows— just like I'd seen in my dreams.

My nautical senses confirmed it. 30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west.

We had reached the home of Polyphemus.

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.1 and lead us not into temptation

warnings : cussing, nudity, pirates, luke being a man, implied/off-screen violence

word count : 4.9k

1.1 I Get a Full-Body Spa Treatment and Luke Gets... Well

I woke up in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform fabric. Luke sat next to me, attempting to paddle.

I tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy.

"Rest," he said, reaching out to stop me seconds too late. Like I'd been too late to help my baby brother. Only my one was way worse. "You're going to need it."

"Tyson...?"

He shook his head, looking genuinely upset, reaching over to me and smoothing the hair at the top of my head down. "Angel, I'm sorry. So sorry, baby."

We were silent while the waves tossed us up and down.

"He may have survived," he suggested half-heartedly, though he obviously doubted it. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

I nodded, but I had no reason to feel hopeful. I'd seen that explosion rip through solid iron. If Tyson had been down in the boiler room, there was no way he could've lived.

He'd given his life for us, and all I could think about was how I'd been so irritated by his need for my comfort around the ghosts aboard the CSS Birmingham. And Clarisse, what about her? Had she managed to survive the explosion?

Waves lapped at the boat. Luke showed me some things he had managed to salvage from the wreckage— Hermes's thermos (now empty), a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. He'd fished me out of the water and found my duffle bag, the only one of the three that had survived. I still had Hermes's bottle of multivitamins, and of course, I had Riptide and Shaker. Plus, my phone and credit card were there, which I was immensely glad for. I had no battery and nowhere to use my card, but at least I wouldn't have to get new ones.

We sailed for hours, barely speaking as I focused on directing the boat. Now that we were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too— as if a thunderstorm were coming. Or something even more dangerous. I knew what direction we needed to go. I knew we were exactly one hundred thirteen nautical miles west by northwest of our destination. But that didn't make me feel any less lost.

No matter which way we turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into my eyes. We took turns sipping from the Dr. Pepper, shading ourselves with the sail as best we could. And we talked about my latest dream of Grover.

Our best guess gave us less than twenty-four hours to find Grover. And that was assuming that my dream was accurate and that Polyphemus didn't change his mind and try to marry Grover earlier.

"Yeah," I said bitterly when Luke pointed that out. "Because you can never trust a Cyclops, right?"

Luke sighed and stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Angel," he admitted. "I was wrong about Tyson, okay? He was a good kid. I wish that I could apologize and tell him that."

I wanted to stay mad at him, but it wasn't easy. We'd been through so much together. He'd saved my life more times than I could count. It was stupid of me to resent him, especially when it was really myself that I was upset with.

I looked down at our measly possessions— the empty wind thermos, the bottle of multivitamins, a useless phone and credit card. I thought about Tyson's innocent sweetness. He had trusted me, and I had let him down when he needed me most. Why did the people I love always get killed? First my mother, then my brother.

Maybe the Fates had cursed me for some reason. Maybe I had been reborn, but I was such an awful person in my first life, the Fields of Punishment weren't enough suffering, so they had given me a life of tragedy to ensure I repented. Well, if that was the case, it had worked out perfectly.

"Why do the gods even let me live?" I wondered. "If I'm prophesied to destroy the world, it would be safer just to kill me."

Luke sighed and raked a hand through his windswept blond curls. He looked as worn out as I felt.

"Allie, I don't know," he shrugged. "I guess some of the gods would like to kill you, but they're probably afraid of offending Poseidon. Other gods... maybe they're still watching you, trying to decide what kind of hero you're going to be. You could be a weapon for their survival, after all. The real question is... what will you do in a little over two years? What decision will you make?"

"Did the prophecy give any hints?"

Luke hesitated. Neither of us mentioned the prophecy much, mostly because the pressure tended to make me feel like I was going to have a panic attack. But I was feeling masochistic, so I brought it up anyway.

Maybe he would've told me more, but just then a seagull swooped down out of nowhere and landed on our makeshift mast. Luke looked startled as the bird dropped a small cluster of leaves into his lap.

"Land," he declared, pointing. "There's land nearby!"

I sat up. Sure enough, there was a line of blue and brown in the distance. Another minute and I could make out an island with a small mountain in the center, a dazzling white collection of buildings, a beach dotted with palm trees, and a harbor filled with a strange assortment of boats.

The current was pulling our rowboat toward what looked like a tropical paradise.

"This is so definitely a trap," I stated, rising and squinting at it.

"Yes," Luke agreed. "But we need more supplies and a faster boat, so we might as well trip it, anyway."

I sighed, and gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

We sailed past into the dock, and were greeted by a sign saying we had arrived at 'CC's Spa and Resort.'

"Why would a spa be out in the middle of the Sea of Monsters?" Luke asked suspiciously. 

I ignored him, focusing on a much more important fact. "Shower," I cooed. 

He gave me an exasperated look. "Trap, Angel," he reminded me.

I waved him off irritably, giving him a look that said I was not going to budge on this topic. "After I'm clean," I insisted. 

He huffed and gave in, rolling his eyes. 

Oddly enough, our rowboat wasn't the weirdest ship in port. Along with a bunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugout canoes, a helipad with a "Channel Five Fort Lauderdale" helicopter on it, a short runway with a Learjet and a propeller plane that looked like a World War II fighter. Finally, there was an old-fashioned three-masted sailing ship.

After a moment of investigating the docks, we followed the sounds of habitation, as well as the smell of food. We passed through a sort of outdoor lounge, and that's when I noticed something odd.

There were a lot of women, ranging from their teens to their thirties. They were all stunning, swimming in a pool, kicking back in a tub, sipping drinks on lawn chairs. But there were no guys around. It made me feel suspicious. I supposed that it could be a women's only spa, which was typical enough, but. This was the Sea of Monsters, and we were demigods. That would be too easy.

"Where are all the guys?" I asked Luke in a low tone.

"Huh?" he mumbled back. When I glanced at him, he blatantly gaping at the half-naked women we were passing. I shoved him as hard as I could, glaring at him. My peeve of getting sexualized creeping up on me.

"Hey, Pretty Boy!" I snapped. "I'm right here, you know."

"And?" he shrugged, and I went to punch him, but was interrupted.

"Welcome!" a woman exclaimed, coming up to us. She looked like a flight attendant— blue business suit, perfect makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She shook our hands, wearing a bright 'business person' smile. For some reason, her demeanor seemed off. Something about her stance made me think she would make a better warrior than a businesswoman.

And, honestly, she just gave me a sense of unease. Like she was an enemy, and I had to get away as quickly as possible. When I glanced at Luke, he didn't seem to pick up the same feeling. But then again, he was still staring at the women in bikinis. I bit back an angry growl of frustration at that, stepping on his foot to draw his attention.

"My name is Hylla," she continued. "I'm a manager here at the resort. Is this your first time with us?"

Luke and I exchanged looks.

"Uh, yeah," I gave a hesitant nod.

"First— time— at— spa," Hylla said with a nod as she wrote on her clipboard. "Let's see then..." She looked us up and down critically. "Mmm. An herbal wrap to start for the stunning young lady. And of course, a complete makeover for the young gentleman."

"Oh, please." A herbal wrap sounded perfect. But then I remembered the deadline.

She was busy jotting down notes, but she smiled nonetheless.

"Right!" she said with a breezy smile. "Well, I'm sure CC will want to speak with you personally before the luau. Come, please."

"Uh, we can't stay," I replied quickly.

"Why not?" she frowned.

"Well, we have this thing soon," Luke explained vaguely, finally following my lead. "And it's kind of got a deadline, you know? We have to hurry."

"Well, at least stay for a few hours," she insisted. "Meet CC and have something to eat."

Something in her eyes told me if we didn't submit, we would end up in a fight, and I was way too exhausted for that to go well. We exchanged quick looks, before reluctantly nodding.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," I muttered, making Hylla smile brightly.

I had to admit it. The place was amazing. There was white marble and blue water everywhere I looked. Terraces climbed up the side of the mountain, with swimming pools on every level, connected by water slides and waterfalls and underwater tubes you could swim through. Fountains sprayed water into the air, forming impossible shapes, like flying eagles and galloping horses.

Tyson loved horses, and I knew he'd love those fountains. I almost turned around to see the expression on his face before I remembered: Tyson was gone.

"You okay?" Luke asked me. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," I replied. "Just... let's keep walking."

We passed all kinds of tame animals. A sea turtle napped in a stack of beach towels. A leopard stretched out asleep on the diving board. The resort guests— still only young women, as far as I could see— lounged in deck chairs, drinking fruit smoothies or reading magazines while herbal face masks dried on their faces and manicurists in white uniforms did their nails.

As we headed up a staircase toward what looked like the main building, I heard a woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like a lullaby. Her words were in some language other than Ancient Greek, but just as old— Minoan, maybe, or something like that. I could understand what she sang about— moonlight in the olive groves, the colors of the sunrise. And magic. Something about magic. Her voice seemed to lift me off the steps and carry me toward her.

We came into a big room where the whole front wall was windows. The back wall was covered in mirrors, so the room seemed to go on forever. There was a bunch of expensive-looking white furniture, and on a table in one corner was a large wire pet cage. The cage seemed out of place, but I didn't think about it too much, because just then I saw the lady who'd been singing... and whoa.

She sat at a loom the size of a big-screen TV, her hands weaving colored thread back and forth with amazing skill. The tapestry shimmered like it was three dimensional— a waterfall scene so real I could see the water moving and clouds drifting across a fabric sky.

"It's beautiful," I breathed.

The woman turned. She was even prettier than her fabric. Her long dark hair was braided with threads of gold. She had piercing green eyes and she wore a silky black dress with shapes that seemed to move in the fabric: animal shadows, black upon black, like deer running through a forest at night.

I'd never been particularly insecure, not when it came to my face or body, but a couple more minutes and that could've very well changed. 

"You appreciate weaving, my dear?" the woman asked me with a friendly smile.

"I appreciate pretty things," I replied honestly.

Our hostess smiled at that. "You have good taste, my dear. I'm so glad you've come. My name is CC. You'll fit right in here, what with looks like those. Have you ever had a blemish in your life?"

The animals in the corner cage started squealing. They must've been guinea pigs, from the sound of them. Meanwhile, CC looked us over with a frown, irritating me a bit.

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "You do need my help."

"Ma'am?" Luke asked. He looked like a kicked puppy, which just made me more annoyed at the woman.

CC called to the lady in the business suit. "Hylla, take Allie on a tour, will you? Show her what we have available. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I've spoken with this young gentleman."

I bristled at that. "What's wrong with my hair?" I demanded. Sure, some hair was falling out of the braids, but it wasn't that bad, was it? And, I frowned. She wanted to separate us? That seemed like a bad idea. We didn't have time to spare. Who did this woman think she was, anyway? I noticed how entranced Luke was by her, and it made me even more pissed off for reasons I refused to admit to. 

"I really don't think—" I began, but she stopped me.

"Go with Hylla, dear. She'll sort you out, nice and quickly. You don't have to worry about a thing."

"Go on, Angel," Luke added, waving me off without looking away from CC's revealing top. "You said that you wanted a shower."

I scoffed, but reluctantly, I followed Hylla out the door, and was bustled off to some sort of make-over area. There, I met her younger sister, Reyna, and received a make-over. It reminded me of getting ready to film for a movie or do a shoot for the cover of a magazine. All in all, I felt pretty at home. I got along with the girls fantastically, and they restored me back to my regular self.

I had been waxed, plucked, buffed, and polished for almost two hours before they finally declared me finished. I stared at myself in the floor-length mirror, feeling like a Barbie doll, but still myself.

I wore a single-strap, very low neckline, floor-length, white-and-gold-colored dress with a long slit up to my mid-thigh. Underneath, I wore a pair of six-inch golden stilettos. I ran my fingers through my curtain bangs at the front of my hair and tossed them out of my fierce-looking face. I hadn't done a shoot for a few weeks, and this felt right up my alley. 

My hair was done up with golden strands that twisted down my perfected curls and a diadem that Hylla told me had been passed down from an old Spartan Queen— Aerla, if the legends had told her right. It was encrusted with diamonds and had a sentence engraved on the back in Ancient Greek saying: And this to hold my promise to my people. 

The girls had let me keep my usual jewelry that hid Riptide and Shaker, which wasn't hard to convince them of, as they mostly matched anyway. Even though my face looked airbrushed from the makeup, I almost couldn't even feel the difference. 

Reyna and Hylla clapped and looked me over, making sure there was nothing else they could add. Finally, to top off the whole outfit, they'd given me a gold purse that had my old clothes and shoes in it as well as a new bikini for the pool, a pair of Gucci sunglasses, a spare dress and shoes, and extra lip gloss. 

Although I was feeling great and the impulse to stay was growing by the minute, I decided very firmly that it was time to find Luke, and get the hell out of there. Grover and Camp awaited us, after all. I didn't have time to play dress-up forever.

"You look beautiful," Reyna told me. 

I smiled back. "Thank you," I returned politely. "Listen, can I go and talk to CC, please?"

"Of course," Hylla cheered. "You can tell her that you want to stay now."

I gave her an appraising nod, but held my true emotions to myself. They were so nice to me, I'd hate to hurt them by letting them know that I had no intentions of staying. 

As we walked down the hallway, Hylla praised me and my talent of not walking harshly while in heels, which, like many other things I did, was achieved from many years of wearing stilettos for premieres, red carpets, and runways. 

We arrived back at the same place that we had first met CC in, and Hylla left me. When I entered, CC was humming at her loom once again, but Luke was nowhere to be seen. A sick feeling turned in my stomach, and I cursed both of us for being so stupid as to go into a trap deliberately. How arrogant were we? Hadn't we learned any common sense over our lives? Morons, both of us.

Especially Luke. I bet that he had been too distracted by CC's breasts to notice that she was about to kill him. This was all his fault. He'd known about the Greek world a lot longer than me, after all. I would've left earlier if he hadn't pressed me into going with Hylla to the damn make-over. At least the stilettos would be handy to stab someone with, if needed.

"Ah, Allie! You look absolutely stunning!" CC exclaimed as I entered. 

I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. "How do you know my name?" I demanded, but with a light enough tone to keep her from suspecting how much I knew. "I never told it to you."

She faltered for a second before quickly rallying, giving me a familiar smile. It was the 'I'm innocent, not a monster. Lower your guard so I can kill you, demigod' smile. I had become very acquainted with that smile, and I cursed our foolishness again when I saw it.

"Your friend, Luke, told it to me," she claimed. 

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh?" I asked curtly. "Where is Luke, by the way? We really have to get going, you know. We have a deadline." In the corner, the guinea pigs squealed for attention, giving me a headache.

"Why would you want to go, my dear?" CC asked, ignoring my question about Luke. "You have so much potential!"

"Potential for what?"

"Potential to be a sorceress, my dear," CC leaned into me. She waved her wrist, causing a small flame to dance over her hand.

I took a wary step back. "A sorceress?"

"Yes, my dear." CC held up her hand. A flame appeared in her palm and danced across her fingertips. "My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a demigod when I see one. And the world is full of gossip about you, since your claiming last summer. We are not so different, you and I. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men. We are both drop-dead gorgeous. You'll fit right in!"

"I don't understand," I said slowly. A guinea pig squealed again, and I made to rub my forehead, but went back on it, after remembering I was wearing makeup. 

"Stay with me," CC urged. "Study with me. You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!"

"But—"

"You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes," CC insisted. I bristled at the insult to my home as she continued dismissively. "How many great female half-blood heroes can you name?"

"Um, Atalanta, Amelia Earhart, Harriet—" I listed, but CC cut me off.

"Bah! Men get all the glory." CC closed her fist and extinguished the magic flame. "The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now there were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all."

Realization dawned me. CC. "You're Circe!"

"Yes, my dear."

I backed up, twitching for my sword, and Circe laughed. "You need not worry. I mean you no harm."

"What'd you do to Luke?" I demanded harshly. Circe smirked and waved at the cage of rodents in the corner.

"Only helped him to realize his true form."

My eyes widened in realization. In the Ancient days, Circe had turned men into actual pigs. Apparently, she had modernized, like most of the Greek world.

"Forget him," Circe said. "Join me and learn the ways of sorcery."

"I—"

"Astraea, think about it!" Circe rose to her feet, clapping sharply.

I hate being called by my full name. If she hadn't turned me against her by turning Luke into a rodent, she would have by using that damn name. Talk about bitches.

"You're the first mortal daughter of Poseidon in history," she continued, pacing back and forth while waving her hands. "Your power and potential are undoubtedly unmatched. As the child of the Great Prophecy, you can bring the world to its knees. Bend it to your will. No more gods expecting everything from you. No more all work and no play. No more men seeing you as a toy. Be a goddess. Accept my offer and become my apprentice! Nothing will stand in your way of gaining whatever you desire!"

I glanced away, thinking furiously. I had to figure out a way to get Luke and get off this dumb island of brainwashed women. But I had to keep the dress. That was my exception. 

"Can I have a moment to think in private?" I asked innocently, keeping my eyes wide. "It's a lot to take in. I would never have guessed that someone as famous and amazing as you would offer me a chance like this."

Maybe I was over-doing it a bit, but, well, Circe was an immortal. In my experience, they had high opinions of themselves, and had the impression that having their attention was every mere mortal's heart's desire.

"Of course," Circe smiled. "I know how honored you must be that I would deign to offer you my aid. Take your time." She waited, folding her hands, and I bit back a growl of frustration.

"In private," I added.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, of course. I'll go and check on dinner while you think it over." With that, she strode out of the room. 

I breathed a sigh of relief despite hearing the sound of the lock being engaged, and I rushed over to the cage of guinea pigs. "All right, which one is you?" I groaned and then cursed. There were at least a dozen, and all of them looked the same! How in all of the Fates' names was I supposed to figure out which one was Luke?

They all squealed, making it worse. 

"That isn't helping," I complained, fighting the urge to run my hands through my beautifully done-up hair. 

I scanned the room and spotted the cuff of Luke's jeans sticking out from under the loom. An idea sparked, and I rushed over and began rummaging through his pockets. Finally, I yanked out the bottle of vitamins and scrambled back over to the cage.

"Oh, this is gonna go so badly," I groaned to myself, unscrewing the top and dumping the entire jar into the cage. I saved one, shoving it into my mouth, just in case it could help at all. A second later, the door opened and Circe, Hylla, and Reyna all entered.

Circe's eyes widened at the scene that greeted her. "You stupid girl!" she cried. "What have you just done?"

I scrambled up, summoning my swords, but before I could say or do anything else, the cage broke. The guinea pigs all grew into various men. Naked men, to be more specific. Which was about to go as well as you could imagine, considering most of them were pirates.

"You witch!" One of the men roared. "You are going to pay for what you've done! I am Blackbeard, and I will have my revenge!"

Holy fuck. The Blackbeard?

"N- now, Edward," Circe stammered, waving her hands at him. I caught Hylla's eye, knowing I'd feel awful if anything happened to either of them. They had treated me perfectly. I didn't want this to be my 'thank you.' 

Run, I mouthed. Hylla nodded and grabbed her sister and pulled her out of the room as the sorceress backed away.

"Arrgghh!" the pirates yelled. They began to race towards Circe, somehow holding swords, and she turned to run, tripping over her dress.

I was still looking away, so I nearly beheaded Luke when he grabbed my arm without warning me. "Woah, Angel," he chuckled. "Relax. Thanks for the save, by the way."

"No problem," I mumbled. It was a little funny, since with the stilettos, I was almost as tall as he was. He obviously wasn't used to it, as his eyes settled on my collarbones, where my head normally was.

"They didn't do anything to you, right?" he asked, sounding worried. 

"You do realize you're naked, right?"

He was silent for a moment, before he moved away, and I heard him grabbing his clothes. "Uh, I have a wonderful suggestion, Angel," he chuckled nervously. "Let's never, ever, tell my siblings about this. Like, ever. Okay, safe to look now."

"We should go," I said, making no promises not to tell the whole camp about this particular adventure.

He gave me, or rather, my outfit, a skeptical once over. "Dressed like that?"

I stopped in my tracks and turned toward him angrily, my previous fury at him for getting us in this mess in the first place doubling. "I know the hell you did not just utter the words 'dressed like that.' I don't exactly have time to change," I snapped back, not caring for his shocked expression. "Now, c'mon. I don't want to have to fight a couple dozen pirates, do you?"

"Good point," he nodded. "Let's go."

We ran down the hillside through the terraces, past the screaming spa residents and the pirates ransacking the resort. Blackbeard's men broke the tiki torches for the luau, threw various herbal wraps into the swimming pool, and kicked over the tables piled with sauna towels.

I almost felt bad letting the unruly pirates out, but I guessed that they deserved something more entertaining than the exercise wheel after being cooped up in a cage for three centuries.

"Which ship?" Luke said as we reached the docks.

I looked around desperately. We couldn't very well take our rowboat. We had to get off the island fast, but what else could we use? A sub? I didn't know if I could control one of those, and no way in Punishment was I going on a jet, even if one of us could manage to fly it. And then I saw it.

"There," I said firmly, pointing it out.

Luke looked doubtful. "But—"

"I can make it work."

"How?"

I couldn't explain. I just somehow knew that an old sailing vessel was the best bet for me. I grabbed Luke's hand and pulled him toward the three-mast ship. Painted on its prow was the name that I would only manage to decipher later: The Queen Anne's Revenge. One of the most famous ships in history.

"Argggh!" Blackbeard yelled somewhere behind us. "Those scalawags are a-boarding me vessel! Get 'em, lads!"

"We'll never get going in time!" Luke yelled as we climbed aboard.

I looked around at the hopeless maze of sail and ropes. The ship was in great condition for a three-hundred-year-old vessel, but it would still take a crew of fifty several hours to get underway.

There were two of us and we didn't have several hours. I could see the pirates running down the stairs, waving tiki torches and sticks of celery.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the waves lapping against the hull, the ocean currents, the winds all around me. Suddenly, the right word appeared in my mind. "Mizzenmast!" I yelled.

"Bless you!" Luke yelled back as the air was filled with whistling sounds of ropes being snapped taut, canvases unfurling, and wooden pulleys creaking.

Luke ducked a cable that flew over his head and wrapped itself around the bowsprit.

"Allie, how the fuck..."

I didn't have an answer, but I could feel the ship responding to me as if it were part of my body. I willed the sails to rise as easily as if I were flexing my arm. I willed the rudder to turn.

The Queen Anne's Revenge lurched away from the dock, and by the time the pirates arrived at the water's edge, we were already underway, sailing into the Sea of Monsters.

*    *    *

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#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

1.0 it's a bird, it's a plane

warnings : cussing, monster attack, abusive language, dead people/ghosts, minor suicidal thoughts at the very very end

word count : 4.5k

1.0 The Entrance to the Sea of Monsters Contains— Guess What... Monsters

"You guys are in so much trouble," Clarisse said, looking grim.

We'd just finished a ship tour we didn't want, through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors. We'd seen the coal bunker, the boilers, and engine, which huffed and groaned like it would explode any minute. We'd seen the pilothouse and the powder magazine and gunnery deck (Clarisse's favorite) with two Dahlgren smoothbore cannons on the port and starboard sides and a Brooke nine-inch rifled gun fore and aft— all specially refitted to fire celestial bronze cannonballs.

Everywhere we went, dead Confederate sailors stared at us, their ghostly bearded faces shimmering over their skulls. They cursed at Luke's Connecticut accent, which although it sounded normal to me, around a whole bunch of southerners, I could hear the difference. Then they cursed at me, because I was from New York and had a New York accent. My surname of Jackson seemed to offend them, too. Probably because of the Confederate general named Jackson, during the war. A Yank with the name most likely insulted them somehow. They all hissed and muttered curses about Yankees a lot, too. You'd think that almost two centuries would be enough to get them to let go of old grudges, but apparently not. Go figure.

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted that I hold his hand. It was a bit annoying. As much as I loved my baby brother, I was not born with an endless supply of patience, and indulging him all the time was beginning to get frustrating. What if I needed to fight? I'd be stuck soothing Tyson's ghost phobia instead, and that was just not acceptable. But, I decided I'd leave it be, just for the moment. Later, I'd explain that his clinging to me for now wasn't going to work out, but I'd wait until the more important things were dealt with.

Finally, we were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham captain's quarters were about the size of a medium-sized walk-in closet, but it was still a hell of a lot bigger than any other room on board. The table was set with white linen and china. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and Dr. Peppers were served by skeletal crewmen. I didn't want to eat anything served by ghosts, but my hunger overruled my fear.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse continued. "Mr. D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV. We tried to argue in your favor, but it just made it worse."

"Thanks for trying, anyway," I sighed. "Anyway, if we live, Chiron will come back. No need to worry. And if we live, but Tantalus stays, I don't want to go back. I'll take my chances out and about in the world."

Clarisse smirked, but underneath her confidence, I could see that she was as worried about Camp as I was. I decided to change the subject. Sort of, anyway.

"Did they give you this ship?" I asked.

Clarisse shook her head. "Can you imagine Tantalus being helpful? No, my father gave it to me."

"Ares?" It was hard to tell who was more surprised, me or Luke.

Clarisse nodded. "The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares," she explained. "That's their curse for being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them. Won't you, Captain?"

The captain stood behind her looking stiff and angry. His glowing green eyes fixed me with a hungry stare. "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma'am, peace, at last, we'll do anything. Destroy anyone."

Did they think the Civil War was still going on, or something? They needed to switch on a T.V. sometime. Get updated on the modern affairs of the world. Or maybe they should just see a T.V. and know the times have changed. Would my phone work...?

Clarisse smiled. "Destroy anyone. I like that." 

Well, I'd never met a half-blood pacifist at any rate. And Clarisse certainly wouldn't be the first, that was for sure.

I was broken out of my weird imaginings by Tyson gulping. I patted him absently on the arm as Luke leaned into Clarisse.

"Clarisse," he said, "Annabeth and Cody might be after the Fleece, too. We saw them. They've got the coordinates and they're heading south. They have a cruise ship full of monsters—"

"Good! I'll blow it out of the water."

"We have to combine forces," Luke insisted. "Let us help you—"

"No!" Clarisse pounded the table. "This is my quest, Shoe Boy! I won't—"

"Of course it's your quest," I hastily intervened. "No one is arguing about that. You deserve the recognition. But all of us have the same goal and same destination. It makes more sense if we work together, rather than act separately and risk getting the other killed, or worse, losing our chance at the Fleece. We need to think of what's best for the camp, Clarisse. And you know that all of us working together is the best chance we have of getting that Fleece home."

Clarisse sighed bitterly, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I dunno if I hate or love your ability to get people on your side, Princess," she huffed. "But, you're right. Just remember, I'm in charge."

"Of course, and you'll do an amazing job at it," I replied without batting an eyelash. Luke looked sick at the thought of following Clarisse's orders, but he gave a reluctant agreement after I elbowed him sharply in the gut.

Clarisse propped her feet up on the white linen tablecloth and opened another Dr. Pepper. "It's late, you should get some sleep. We can plan in the morning. Captain, take them below. Assign them hammocks on the berth deck. Then bring me the maps. I wanna take another look at them."

***

The dream came as soon as I fell asleep.

Grover was sitting at his loom, desperately unraveling his wedding train, when the boulder door rolled aside and the Cyclops bellowed, "Aha!"

Grover yelped. "Dear! I didn't— you were so quiet!"

"Unraveling!" Polyphemus roared. "So that's the problem!"

"Oh, no. I— I wasn't—"

"Come!" Polyphemus grabbed Grover around the waist and half carried, half dragged him through the tunnels of the cave. Grover struggled to keep his high heels on his hooves. His veil kept tilting on his head, threatening to come off.

The Cyclops pulled him into a warehouse-size cavern decorated with sheep junk. There was a wool-covered La-Z-Boy recliner and a wool-covered television set, crude bookshelves loaded with sheep collectibles— coffee mugs shaped like sheep faces, plaster figurines of sheep, sheep board games, and picture books and action figures. The floor was littered with piles of sheep bones, and other bones that didn't look exactly like sheep— the bones of satyrs who'd come to the island looking for Pan. It was a nightmare version of a bachelor's pad, and I had the urge to clean it, it was that awful.

Polyphemus set Grover down only long enough to move another huge boulder. Daylight streamed into the cave, and Grover whimpered with longing. Fresh air!

The Cyclops dragged him outside to a hilltop overlooking the most beautiful island I'd ever seen (and considering my job, I'd seen a lot. Trés pittoresque, as the French say).

It was shaped kind of like a saddle cut in half by an ax. There were lush green hills on either side and a wide valley in the middle, split by a deep chasm that was spanned by a rope bridge.

Beautiful streams rolled to the edge of the canyon and dropped off in rainbow-colored waterfalls.

Parrots fluttered in the trees. Pink and purple flowers bloomed on the bushes. Hundreds of sheep grazed in the meadows, their wool glinting strangely like copper and silver coins.

And at the center of the island, right next to the rope bridge, was an enormous twisted oak tree with something glittering in its lowest bough.

The Golden Fleece.

Even in a dream, I could feel its power radiating across the island, making the grass greener, the flowers more beautiful. I could almost smell the nature magic at work. I could only imagine how powerful the scent would be for a satyr.

Grover whimpered.

"Yes," Polyphemus said proudly. "See over there? Fleece is the prize of my collection! Stole it from heroes long ago, and ever since— free food! Satyrs come from all over the world, like moths to a flame. Satyrs good eating! And now—"

Polyphemus scooped up a wicked set of bronze shears.

Grover yelped, but Polyphemus just picked up the nearest sheep like it was a stuffed animal and shaved off its wool. He handed a fluffy mass of it to Grover.

"Put that on the spinning wheel!" he said proudly. "Magic. Cannot be unraveled."

"Oh... well..."

"Poor Honeypie!" Polyphemus grinned. "Bad weaver. Ha-ha! Not to worry. That thread will solve problem. Finish wedding train by tomorrow!"

"Isn't that... thoughtful of you!"

"Hehe."

"But— but, dear," Grover gulped, "what if someone were to rescue— I mean attack this island?" Grover looked straight at me, and I knew he was asking for my benefit. "What would keep them from marching right up here to your cave?"

"Wifey scared! So cute! Not to worry. Polyphemus has state-of-the-art security system. Have to get through my pets."

"Pets?"

Grover looked across the island, but there was nothing to see except sheep grazing peacefully in the meadows.

"And then," Polyphemus growled, "they would have to get through me!"

He pounded his fist against the nearest rock, which cracked and split in half. "Now, come!" he shouted. "Back to the cave."

Grover looked about ready to cry— so close to freedom, but so hopelessly far. It broke my heart to watch helplessly as the tears welled in his eyes while the boulder door rolled shut, sealing him once again in the stinky torch-lit dankness of the Cyclops's cave.

That's when I woke to alarm bells ringing throughout the ship.

The captain's gravelly voice: "All hands on deck! Find Lady Clarisse! Where is that girl?" Then his ghostly face appeared above me. "Get up, Yankee. Your friends are already above. We're approaching the entrance to the Sea of Monsters."

I grabbed the duffle bag from Hermes and slung it over my shoulder. I had learned the hard way to always be ready to run, and I wasn't sure if the ghost ship would be able to withstand the Sea of Monsters itself. It might capsize, and if I lost the gifts he gave me, Hermes would probably curse me with bad Internet for the rest of eternity, or something like that, anyway. Or maybe he'd just made me combust. Who really knows?

I was on my way upstairs when something made me freeze. A presence nearby— something familiar and unpleasant. For no particular reason, I felt like picking a fight. I wanted to punch someone. The last time I'd felt that kind of anger...

Instead of going up, I crept to the edge of the ventilation grate and peered down into the boiler deck.

Clarisse was standing right below me, talking to an image that shimmered in the steam from the boilers— a muscular man in black leather biker clothes, with a military haircut, red-tinted sunglasses, and a knife strapped to his side.

My fists clenched at the sight. It was Ares, the god of war.

"I don't want excuses, little girl!" he growled.

"Y- yes, father," Clarisse mumbled.

"You don't want to see me mad, do you?"

"No, father."

"No, father," Ares mimicked. "You're pathetic. I should've let one of my sons take this quest."

I bit back an angry growl. How dare Ares treat anyone, let alone one of my closest friends, his own child, like that? Gods, how I loathed him. I should have left, because I knew that Clarisse, proud as she was, would hate being seen like this. But, for whatever reason, I didn't. I stayed and watched.

"I'll succeed!" Clarisse promised, her voice trembling. "I'll make you proud."

"You'd better," he warned. "You asked me for this quest, girl. If you let that bitch Jackson steal it from you—"

"But the Oracle said—"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IT SAID!" Ares bellowed so forcefully his image shimmered. "You will succeed. And if you don't..."

He raised his fist. Even though he was only a figure in the steam, Clarisse flinched.

"Do we understand each other?" Ares growled.

The alarm bells rang again. I heard voices coming toward me, officers yelling orders to ready the cannons.

I crept back from the ventilation grate and made my way upstairs to join Luke and Tyson on the spar deck.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked me. As usual, he could tell I was upset with a glance. "Another dream?"

I nodded, but I didn't say anything. I wasn't about to mention what I'd seen downstairs. It bothered me as much as the dream about Grover.

Clarisse came up the stairs right after me. I tried not to look at her, or let on what I had seen. She would never forgive me if she found out that I'd eavesdropped.

She grabbed a pair of binoculars from a zombie officer and peered toward the horizon. "At last. Captain, full steam ahead!"

I looked in the same direction as she was, but I couldn't see much. The sky was overcast.

The air was hazy and humid, like steam from an iron. If I squinted really hard, I could just make out a couple of dark fuzzy splotches in the distance.

My nautical senses told me we were somewhere off the coast of northern Florida, so we'd come a long way overnight, farther than any mortal ship would've been able to travel.

The engine groaned as we increased speed.

Tyson muttered nervously, "Too much strain on the pistons. Not meant for deep water."

I wasn't sure how he knew that, but it made me nervous. I adjusted my bag, reassured by its weight, and moved closer to my boys. The closer they were, the easier it would be for me to use my powers to shield them when everything inevitably went to shit.

After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of us came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea— an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.

"Hurricane?" Luke asked. He sounded hopeful.

"No," Clarisse said. "Charybdis."

Luke paled in horror. "You're crazy!"

"Only way into the Sea of Monsters," she replied stoically. "Straight between Charybdis and her sister Scylla."

Clarisse pointed to the top of the cliffs, and I got the feeling something lived up there that I did not want to meet.

"Why not just sail around them?" I asked.

Clarisse shook her head. "If we tried to sail around them, they would just appear in our path again. If you want to get into the Sea of Monsters, you have to sail through them."

"What about the Clashing Rocks?" Luke pointed out. "That's another gateway. Jason used it."

"I can't blow apart rocks with my cannons," Clarisse said. "Monsters, on the other hand..."

"You are a completely suicidal lunatic," Luke decided. "She is!" he added when I slapped him over the head.

"Just watch and learn, Messenger Boy." Clarisse turned to the captain. "Set course for Charybdis!"

"Aye, m'lady."

The engine groaned, the iron plating rattled, and the ship began to pick up speed. I bit my lip, a sick feeling stirring in my mind as my knowledge of Charybdis, limited though it was, began to creep in.

"Clarisse," I said, carefully. "Charybdis sucks up the sea. Isn't that the story?"

"And spits it back out again, yeah."

"What about Scylla?"

"She lives in a cave, up on those cliffs. If we get too close, her snaky heads will come down and start plucking sailors off the ship."

"Choose Scylla then," I said. "Everybody goes below deck and we chug right past."

"No!" Clarisse insisted. "If Scylla doesn't get her easy meat, she might pick up the whole ship. Besides, she's too high to make a good target. My cannons can't shoot straight up. Charybdis just sits there at the center of her whirlwind. We're going to steam straight toward her, train our guns on her, and blow her to Tartarus!"

She said it with such relish I could almost believe her.

The engine hummed. The boilers were heating up so much I could feel the deck getting warm beneath my feet. The smokestacks billowed. The red Ares flag whipped in the wind.

As we got closer to the monsters, the sound of Charybdis got louder and louder— a horrible wet roar that nearly made my eardrums burst. Every time Charybdis inhaled, the ship shuddered and lurched forward. Every time she exhaled, we rose in the water and were buffeted by ten-foot waves.

I tried to time the whirlpool. As near as I could figure, it took Charybdis about three minutes to suck up and destroy everything within a half-mile radius. To avoid her, we would have to skirt right next to Scylla's cliffs. And as bad as Scylla might be, those cliffs were looking awfully good to me.

Undead sailors calmly went about their business on the spar deck. I guess they'd fought a losing cause before, so this didn't bother them. Or maybe they didn't care about getting destroyed because they were already deceased. Neither thought made me feel any better.

Luke stood next to me, gripping the rail tightly in a white-knuckled grip. "You still have your thermos full of wind?"

I nodded. "But it's too dangerous to use with a whirlpool like that. More wind might just make things worse."

"What about controlling the water?" he asked. "You're Poseidon's daughter. You've done it before."

Without replying, I closed my eyes and tried to calm the sea, but I couldn't concentrate. Charybdis was too loud and powerful. The waves responded, but I'd need it to get a lot quieter if I wanted things to go my way.

"I— I kinda can," I said miserably. "It's strong and if it was quieter I'd do a lot better."

"I know that I sound like an Athena kid, but we need a backup plan," Luke insisted. "This isn't going to work."

"Luke is right," Tyson said. "Engine's no good."

"What do you mean?" I asked quickly.

"Pressure. Pistons need fixing."

Before he could explain, there was a mighty roar! The ship lurched forward and I was thrown to the deck. We were in the whirlpool.

"Full reverse!" Clarisse screamed above the noise. The sea churned around us, waves crashing over the deck. The iron plating was now so hot it steamed. "Get us within firing range! Make ready starboard cannons!"

Dead Confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller grinded into reverse, trying to slow the ship, but we kept sliding toward the center of the vortex.

A zombie sailor burst out of the hold and ran to Clarisse. His gray uniform was smoking. His beard was on fire. "Boiler room overheating, ma'am! She's going to blow!"

"Well, get down there and fix it!"

"Can't!" the sailor yelled. "We're vaporizing in the heat."

Clarisse pounded the side of the casemate. "All I need is a few more minutes! Just enough to get in range!"

"We're going in too fast," the captain said grimly. "Prepare yourself for death."

How, I wondered, did you 'prepare yourself for death?' Was there a form to fill out? I had written my will shortly after my first quest, and updated it a few weeks ago, so that was 'prepared.' I stuck my hand in my pocket, feeling my drachma pouch. It was there, so at least we would be able to pay for passage to the Underworld. I wouldn't want to spend the next few centuries stuck in that horribly decorated waiting room.

"I can fix it!" Tyson declared, breaking me from my morbid plans. Horror gripped me at the suggestion, and I shook my head desperately.

Clarisse looked at him incredulously. "You?"

"He's a Cyclops," Luke said. "He's immune to fire. And he knows mechanics."

"Go!" yelled Clarisse.

"Tyson, no!" I grabbed his arm. "It's too dangerous!"

He patted my hand. "Only way, sister." His expression was determined— confident, even. I'd never seen him look like this before. "I will fix it. Be right back."

As I watched him follow the smoldering sailor down the hatch, I had a terrible feeling. I wanted to run after him, but the ship lurched again, forcing me to concentrate on the current situation. That's when I saw Charybdis.

She appeared only a few hundred yards away, through a swirl of mist and smoke and water.

The first thing I noticed was the reef— a black crag of coral with a fig tree clinging to the top, an oddly peaceful thing in the middle of a maelstrom. All around it, water curved into a funnel, like light around a black hole. Then I saw the horrible thing anchored to the reef just below the waterline— an enormous mouth with slimy lips and mossy teeth the size of rowboats. And worse, the teeth had braces, bands of corroded scummy metal with pieces of fish and driftwood and floating garbage stuck between them.

Charybdis was an orthodontist's nightmare. She was nothing but a huge black maw with bad teeth alignment and a serious overbite, and she'd done nothing for centuries but eat without brushing after meals. As I watched, the entire sea around her was sucked into the void— sharks, schools of fish, a giant squid. And I realized that in a few seconds, the CSS Birmingham would be next.

"Lady Clarisse," the captain shouted. "Starboard and forward guns are in range!"

"Fire!" Clarisse ordered.

Three rounds were blasted into the monster's maw. One blew off the edge of an incisor.

Another disappeared into her gullet. The third hit one of Charybdis' retaining bands and shot back at us, snapping the Ares flag off its pole (giving me a vindictive sense of pleasure as I imagined Ares' expression at the sight of his ripped flag).

"Again!" Clarisse ordered. The gunners reloaded, but I knew it was hopeless. We would have to pound the monster a hundred more times to do any real damage, and we didn't have that long. We were being sucked in too fast. I hooked my leg around the railing and made sure I wouldn't die if I stopped concentrating on that. The current started slowing and at the same time the vibrations in the deck changed. The hum of the engine got stronger and steadier. The ship shuddered and we started pulling away from the mouth.

"Tyson did it!" Luke exclaimed.

"Wait!" Clarisse said. "We need to stay close!"

"We'll die!" I snapped back. "We have to move away."

I gripped the rail as the ship and I fought against the suction. The broken Ares flag raced past us and lodged in Charybdis' braces. We weren't making much progress, but at least we were holding our own. Tyson had somehow given us just enough juice to keep the ship from being sucked in.

Suddenly, the mouth snapped shut. The sea died to absolute calm. Water washed over Charybdis.

Then, just as quickly as it had closed, the mouth exploded open, spitting out a wall of water, ejecting everything inedible, including our cannonballs, one of which slammed into the side of the CSS Birmingham with a ding like the bell on a carnival game.

We were thrown backward on a wave that must've been forty feet high. I used all of my willpower to keep the ship from capsizing, but we were still spinning out of control, hurtling toward the cliffs on the opposite side of the strait.

Another smoldering sailor burst out of the hold. He stumbled into Clarisse, almost knocking them both overboard. "The engine is about to blow!"

"Where's Tyson?" I demanded.

"Still down there," the sailor said. "Holding it together somehow, though I don't know for how much longer."

"We have to abandon ship," the captain said urgently.

"No!" Clarisse yelled.

"We have no choice, m'lady. The hull is already cracking apart! She can't—"

He never finished his sentence. Quick as lightning, something brown and green shot from the sky, snatched up the captain, and lifted him away. All that was left were his leather boots.

"Scylla!" a sailor yelled, as another column of reptilian flesh shot from the cliffs and snapped him up. It happened so fast it was like watching a laser beam rather than a monster. It was so fast, I couldn't even make out the thing's face, just a flash of yellow teeth and scales.

I pulled out Riptide and Shaker and tried to swipe at the monster as it carried off another deckhand, but I was way too slow.

"Everyone get below!" I yelled.

"We can't!" Clarisse drew her own sword. "Below deck is in flames."

"Lifeboats!" Luke called. "Quick!"

"They'll never get clear of the cliffs," Clarisse said. "We'll all be eaten."

"We have to try. Allie, the thermos."

"I'm not leaving Tyson!"

"We have to get the boats ready!"

Clarisse took Luke's command, shockingly. She and a few of her undead sailors uncovered one of the two emergency rowboats while Scylla's heads rained from the sky like a meteor shower with teeth, picking off Confederate sailors one after another.

"Get the other boat." I threw Luke the thermos. "I'll get Tyson."

"You can't!" she said. "The heat will kill you!"

I didn't listen. I ran for the boiler room hatch, when suddenly my feet weren't touching the deck anymore. I was flying straight up, the wind whistling in my ears, the side of the cliff only inches from my face.

Scylla had somehow caught me by the duffle bag, and she was now lifting me up toward her lair.

Without thinking, I swung my sword behind me and managed to jab the thing in her beady yellow eye. She grunted and dropped me.

The fall would've been bad enough, considering I was a hundred feet in the air. But as I fell, the CSS Birmingham exploded below me.

KABOOM!

The engine room blew, sending chunks of ironclad flying in either direction like a fiery set of wings.

"Tyson!" I yelled.

The lifeboats had managed to get away from the ship, but not very far. Flaming wreckage was raining down. Clarisse and Luke would either be smashed or burned or pulled to the bottom by the force of the sinking hull, and that was thinking optimistically, assuming they got away from Scylla.

Then I heard a different kind of explosion— the sound of Hermes's magic thermos being opened just a little bit too far. White sheets of wind blasted in every direction, scattering the lifeboats, lifting me out of my free fall and propelling me across the ocean.

I couldn't see anything. I spun in the air, got hit on the head by something hard, and hit the water with a crash that would've broken every bone in my body if I was anything but the daughter of the Sea God.

The last thing I remembered was sinking in a burning sea, knowing that Tyson was gone forever, and wishing I were able to drown.

*    *    *

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#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

0.9 out of sight, not out of mind

warnings : injury, cussing, monster attack, some tragic backstory reveal

word count : 3.6k

0.9 Finding A Powdered Donut Shop in the Middle of the Wilderness Run By Monsters? It's More Likely Than You'd Think

"Thermos!" I shrieked as we hurtled toward the water.

"What?" Luke must've thought that I had lost my mind. He was holding on to the boat straps for dear life, his hair flying all around and making him look like an evil scientist or something.

But, thank the gods, Tyson understood. He managed to open my duffel bag and take out Hermes's magical thermos without losing his grip on it or the boat.

Arrows and javelins whistled past us. An arrow stuck itself in my thigh, but I was a little too preoccupied to care.

I grabbed the thermos and hoped I was doing the right thing. "Hang on!"

"I am hanging on!" Luke yelled back.

"Tighter!"

I hooked my feet under the boat's inflatable bench, and as Tyson grabbed Luke and I by the backs of our shirts, I gave the thermos cap a quarter turn.

Instantly, a white sheet of wind jetted out of the thermos and propelled us sideways, turning our downward plummet into a forty-five-degree crash landing.

The wind seemed to laugh as it shot from the thermos, like it was glad to be free. As we hit the ocean, we bumped once, twice, skipping like a stone, then we were whizzing along like a speed boat, salt spray in our faces and nothing but sea ahead.

I heard a wail of outrage from the ship behind us, but we were already out of weapon range.

The Princess Andromeda faded to the size of a white toy boat in the distance, and then it was gone, out of sight, but certainly not out of mind.

Now that we were out of immediate danger, the pain in my thigh registered and Luke's eyes widened as he saw the two-and-a-half-foot-long arrow sticking out of me. Without any thought, I shoved the thermos into Luke's hands and I pulled the arrow out. Ignoring the blood now gushing from my leg, I simply stuck my leg into the water until the wound healed. 

"Well, damn. That's one way to do it, Angel." 

I just nodded. 

As we raced over the sea, Luke and I tried to send an Iris-message to Chiron. We figured it was important we let somebody know what Annabeth and Cody were doing, and we didn't know who else to trust.

The wind from the thermos stirred up a nice sea spray that made a rainbow in the sunlight— perfect for an Iris-message— but our connection was still poor. When Luke threw a gold drachma into the mist and prayed for the rainbow goddess to show us Chiron, his face appeared all right, but there was some kind of weird strobe light flashing in the background and rock music blaring, like he was at a dance club. Impossible, of course. I mean, it's Chiron. He literally has four left feet.

We told him about sneaking away from camp, and the Traitors and the Princess Andromeda and the golden box for Kronos' 'remains', but between the noise on his end and the rushing wind and water on our end, I'm not sure how much he managed to hear.

"Allie," Chiron shouted, "you have to watch out for—"

His voice was drowned out by loud shouting behind him— a bunch of voices whooping it up like Comanche warriors.

"What?" I called back.

"Curse my relatives!" Chiron ducked as a plate flew over his head and shattered somewhere out of sight. "Luke, you shouldn't have let Allie leave camp! But if you do get the Fleece—"

"Yeah, baby!" somebody behind Chiron yelled. "Woo-hoooooo!"

The music got cranked up, subwoofers so loud it made our boat vibrate.

"—Miami," Chiron was yelling. "I'll try to keep watch—"

Our misty screen smashed apart like someone on the other side had thrown a bottle at it, and Chiron was gone.

An hour later we spotted land— a long stretch of beach lined with high-rise hotels. The water became crowded with fishing boats and tankers. A coast guard cruiser passed on our starboard side, then turned like it wanted a second look. I guess it isn't every day that they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour, manned by three kids.

Ah, the lives of mortals. Envious. I'm truly envious. 

"That's Virginia Beach!" Luke exclaimed as we approached the shoreline. "How in Hermes' name did the Princess Andromeda travel so far overnight? That's like—"

"Five hundred and thirty nautical miles," I said without thinking.

He stared at me in shock. "How did you know that?"

"I— I'm not sure."

Luke frowned for a moment. "Angel, what's our position?"

"36 degrees, 44 minutes north, 76 degrees, 2 minutes west," I said immediately. Then I shook my head. "Whoa. How did I know that?"

"Because of your dad," Luke guessed. "Some of my older siblings that have left camp can do something similar, on land. It'll be damn handy in finding the island, at least."

Before I could say anything about my opinion on being used as a living GPS, Tyson tapped my shoulder. "Other boat is coming."

I looked over my shoulder, tensing up. The coast guard vessel was definitely on our tail now. Its lights were flashing and it was gaining speed.

"We can't let them catch us," I said. "They'll ask too many questions."

"Keep going into Chesapeake Bay," Luke ordered. "I know a place where we can lay low for a while."

I didn't ask what he meant, or how he knew the area so well. I risked loosening the thermos cap a little more, and a fresh burst of wind sent us rocketing around the northern tip of Virginia Beach into Chesapeake Bay. The coast guard boat fell farther and farther behind. We didn't slow down until the shores of the bay narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered the mouth of a river.

I could feel the change from saltwater to freshwater. It didn't affect me very much, but I could tell I wasn't in the ocean anymore and my body didn't really know what to do about it, so it just stayed (mostly) how it did in saltwater. Although, I suddenly didn't know where we were. It was a good thing Luke was directing me, otherwise, we'd have gotten so lost.

"There," he pointed. "It's just a little past that sandbar."

We veered into a swampy area choked with marsh grass. I beached the lifeboat at the foot of a giant cypress.

Vine-covered trees loomed above us. Insects chirred in the woods. The air was muggy and hot, and steam curled off the river. Basically, I didn't like it.

"Come on," Luke swung himself out of the boat. "It's just down the bank."

"What is?" I asked grumpily. I wished that we'd had a chance to shower before having to run for our lives. That's the worst thing about quests— not being clean, which I just adore.

"Just follow me." He grabbed a duffel bag. I could see a certain look had come into his eyes, and I knew that this had something to do with Thalia. "And we'd better cover the boat. We don't want to draw attention."

After burying the lifeboat with branches, Tyson and I followed Luke along the shore, our feet sinking in red mud. A spider crawled past my shoe and disappeared into the grass.

"Not a good place," Tyson said. He swatted the mosquitoes that were forming a buffet line on his arm.

After another few minutes, Luke stopped and said, "Here."

All I saw was a patch of brambles. Then, Luke moved aside a woven circle of branches, like a door, and I realized I was looking into a camouflaged shelter.

The inside was big enough for three, even with Tyson being the third. The walls were woven from plant material, like a Native American hut, but they looked pretty waterproof. Stacked in the corner was everything you could want for a campout— sleeping bags, blankets, an ice chest, and a kerosene lamp. There were demigod provisions, too— bronze javelin tips, a quiver full of arrows, an extra sword, and a box of ambrosia. The place smelled musty, like it had been vacant for a long time.

"A half-blood hideout." I looked at Luke in awe. "You made this place?"

"Thalia and I," he replied quietly, a pained look in his eyes. "And Annabeth."

I bit my lip. I never knew what to say, when the topic of Thalia or Annabeth came up. In Luke's eyes, Thalia seemed to be this perfect person, who could do anything. And, well, her name said enough about Annabeth.

"So..." I said. "You don't think that she'll look for us here?" There was no need to elaborate on who 'she' was.

He shook his head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this, and she was pretty young. I doubt Annabeth even remembers where they are. Or cares."

He threw himself down on the blankets and started to rifle through his duffel bag. His body language made it pretty clear that he didn't want to talk, but I knew him on a deeper level than that. He needed to vent. 

"Um, Tyson?" I said, glancing at him. "Would you mind scouting around outside? Like, look for a wilderness convenience store or something?"

"Convenience store?"

"Yeah, for snacks. Powdered donuts or something. Just don't go too far."

"Powdered donuts," Tyson said earnestly. "I will look for powdered donuts in the wilderness." He headed outside and started calling, "Here, donuts!"

Once he was gone, I sat down beside Luke, and rested a hand on his knee delicately. "Hey, I'm sorry about, you know, seeing Annabeth."

"It's not your fault." He unsheathed his sword and started to clean the blade with a dirty rag.

"Well if I hadn't followed Hermes' suggestion of boarding the Murder Cruise of Doom," I tried to joke. 

Luke gave a bitter smile. "Yeah, well, neither our fathers are ever gonna get 'Parent of the Millennia Award'," he scoffed. I nodded in silent agreement, surprised when the sky didn't boom angrily. I supposed the gods just weren't listening. Or maybe they knew that it was true.

No, they just weren't listening.

"They let us go too easily," I said, deciding to switch the subject.

Luke nodded in agreement, switching from cleaning to sharpening his blade. "I was thinking the same thing. What we overheard them say about a gamble, and 'they'll take the bait'... I think that they were talking about us."

"The Fleece is the bait? Or Grover?" I pulled on one of my braids in frustration.

He studied the edge of his sword. "I don't know, Allie. Maybe they want the Fleece for themselves. Maybe they're hoping that we'll do the hard work and then they can steal it from us."

"Do you think," I began tentatively, a horrifying thought dawning, "that they could use the Fleece to help speed up..." 

I trailed off, and Luke set down his sword. His expression was dark and grim. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe. I just can't believe that Annabeth would poison the tree."

"What did she mean," I asked. "Thalia would've been on her side?"

"She's wrong."

"You don't sound sure," I pointed out bluntly.

Luke glared at me, but I kept my gaze steady. He huffed and looked away first, starting to sharpen his sword again. "Allie, you know who you remind me of most? Thalia. You guys are so alike it's actually scary. I mean, either you would've been best friends or you would've strangled each other."

"If our father's are any indication to go by, I'd say Option B."

"Thalia got angry with her dad sometimes. So do you. Would you turn against Olympus because of that?"

"No, those half-bloods are idiots," I snorted. "Demigods can't exist without gods to conceive us, traumatizing as that thought is. I can't believe they don't realize that. It's so obvious."

Luke blinked, shook his head, and gave a dry laugh. "Jeez, Angel. Your mind works in mysterious ways. I hadn't even thought of that, but yeah, you're right. Anyway, Annabeth was wrong. Thalia would never have supported any of this."

"So what did Annabeth mean about Cyclopses?" I asked. "She said that you of all people—"

"I know what she said. She... she was talking about the real reason Thalia died."

I waited, not sure what to say.

Luke drew in a shaky breath. "You can never trust a Cyclops, Allie. Remember what I told you last year, six years ago, when Grover was leading us to Half-Blood Hill—"

He was interrupted when the door of the hut creaked open. Tyson crawled in.

"Powdered donuts!" he said proudly, holding up a pastry box.

Luke and I stared at him in bewilderment. "Where did you get that?" Luke demanded. "We're in the middle of the wilderness. There's nothing around for—"

"Fifty feet," Tyson cut in. "Monster Donut shop— just over the hill!"

"This is bad," Luke muttered.

We were crouching behind a tree, staring at the donut shop in the middle of the woods. It looked brand new, with brightly lit windows, a parking area, and a little road leading off into the forest, but there was nothing else around, and no cars parked in the lot. We could see one employee reading a magazine behind the cash register. That was it. On the store's marquis, in huge black letters that even I could read, it said:

MONSTER DONUT

A cartoon ogre was taking a bite out of the O in MONSTER. The place smelled good, like fresh-baked chocolate donuts. I'd seen a few of them around New York, but had never actually gone to one.

"Damn, what are the chances?"

Luke shot me one of those fondly exasperated looks that he always gave me when he thought I was being ditzy. "This shouldn't be here," he whispered. "It's wrong."

"What?" I asked doubtfully. "It's a donut shop." 

Though, this was the Greek world. Maybe the secret ingredient was Gorgon poison, or something.

"Shhh!"

"Why are we whispering? Tyson went in and bought a dozen. Nothing happened to him."

"He's a monster."

"Aw, c'mon, Luke. Monster Donut doesn't mean monsters! It's a chain. We've got them in New York."

"A chain," he agreed. "And don't you think it's strange that one appeared immediately after you told Tyson to get donuts? Right here in the middle of the woods?"

I bit my lip. "Possibly," I grudgingly admitted. "But no one said anything to me about chain restaurants being run by monsters! Is that, like, an all-chain-restaurants thing, or...?"

He snorted and shook his head. "Nah, most of them are safe. But some of the chains multiply so fast because all their locations are magically linked to the life force of a monster. Some of my half-siblings figured out how to do it back in the 1950s. They breed—"

He froze, staring over my shoulder. 

I tensed. "What?" I demanded quietly.

"No— sudden— moves," Luke warned, like his life depended on it. "Very slowly, turn around."

Then I heard it: a scraping noise, like something large dragging its belly through the leaves. Which, of course, is exactly what was happening.

I turned and saw a rhino-size thing moving through the shadows of the trees. It was hissing, its front half writhing in all different directions. I couldn't understand what I was seeing at first.

Then I realized the thing had multiple necks— at least seven, each topped with a hissing reptilian head. Its skin was leathery, and under each neck, it wore a plastic bib that read: I'M A MONSTER DONUT KID!

I began to slowly reach for Riptide, but Luke locked eyes with me, sending a silent warning. Not yet.

I understood. A lot of monsters have terrible eyesight. It was possible the Hydra might pass us by. But if I pulled out my sword now, the bronze glow would certainly get its attention.

We waited.

The Hydra was only a few feet away. It seemed to be sniffing the ground and the trees like it was hunting for something. 

My heart pounded. I'd seen a stuffed Hydra-head trophy at camp before, as well as in books, but those did nothing to prepare me for the real thing. Each head was diamond-shaped, like a rattlesnake's, but the mouths were lined with jagged rows of shark-like teeth.

Tyson was trembling. He stepped back and accidentally snapped a twig. Immediately, all seven heads turned toward us and hissed.

"Scatter!" Luke yelled. He dove to the right.

I rolled to the left. One of the Hydra heads spat an arc of green liquid that shot past my shoulder and splashed against an elm. The trunk smoked and began to disintegrate. The whole tree toppled straight toward Tyson, who still hadn't moved, petrified by the monster that was now right in front of him.

"Tyson!" I tackled him with all my might, somehow managing to defy the laws of physics and knock him aside with my whole 115-pound body, just as the Hydra lunged and the tree crashed on top of two of its heads.

The Hydra stumbled backward, yanking its heads free then wailing in outrage at the fallen tree. All seven heads shot acid, and the elm melted into a steaming pool of muck.

"Move!" I told Tyson. I ran to one side and grabbed my swords, hoping to draw the monster's attention.

It worked.

The sight of celestial bronze is hateful to monsters and I don't think they like steel much better. As soon as my glowing blades were in my hands, the Hydra whipped toward me with all its heads, hissing and baring its teeth.

The good news: Tyson was momentarily out of danger. The bad news: I was about to be melted into a puddle of goo. And my braids were a complete wreck. Goddamnit, I hate my life. What'd I ever do to the Fates?

One of the heads snapped at me experimentally. Forgetting my lessons on Hydras, I automatically swung my sword. I tried to pull my arm back, or at least lessen the blow, but I already had too much momentum.

"No!" Luke cried.

Too late. I sliced the Hydra's head clean off. It rolled away into the grass, leaving a flailing stump, which immediately stopped bleeding and began to swell like a balloon.

In a matter of seconds the wounded neck split into two necks, each of which grew a full-size head. Now I was looking at an eight-headed Hydra.

"Shit!" I snapped, jumping back.

"Angel, you okay?" Luke called.

"Fine! How the hell do we kill this thing? I can't remember!"

"Fire!" Luke answered. "We have to have fire!"

As soon as he said that, I remembered the story. The Hydra's heads would only stop multiplying if we burned the stumps before they regrew. That's what Heracles had done, anyway.

But we had no fire, and I was a water half-blood. I avoided fires as much as I could, as a matter of principle. I could totally see myself being extra vulnerable to being burned alive. It'd be just my luck.

I went with my instincts and began to back up toward the river. The Hydra followed.

Luke moved in on my left and tried to distract one of the heads, parrying its teeth with his sword, but another head swung sideways like a club and knocked him, swearing, into the muck.

"No hitting my friends!" Tyson charged in, putting himself between the Hydra and Luke's prone body.

As Luke scrambled to his feet, Tyson started smashing at the monster heads with his fists so fast it reminded me of the whack-a-mole game at the arcade. But not even Tyson could fend off the Hydra forever.

We kept inching backward, dodging acid splashes and deflecting snapping heads without cutting them off, but I knew that we were only postponing our deaths. Eventually, we would make a mistake and the thing would kill us. And Grover and Clarisse would die, before Camp too, fell under an onslaught of monsters.

Then I heard a strange sound— a chug-chug-chug that at first I thought was my heartbeat. It was so powerful that it made the riverbank shake.

"What's that noise?" Luke shouted, keeping his eyes fixed on the Hydra.

"Steam engine," I replied and assumed it was my wacky powers that were allowing me that knowledge.

Then from the river behind us, a familiar female voice shouted: "There! Prepare the thirty-two-pounder!"

I didn't dare look away from the Hydra, but if that was who I thought it was behind us, I figured we now had a 60% to 40% chance of survival, depending on how pissed she was.

A gravelly male voice said, "They're too close, m'lady!"

"Damn it!" Clarisse snapped. "Full steam ahead!"

60% then. 

"Aye, m'lady."

"Fire at will, Captain!"

Luke understood what was happening a split second before I did.

"Hit the dirt!" he warned, and tackled me to the ground, covering my body with his, just as an earth-shattering BOOM echoed from the river. There was a flash of light, a column of smoke, and the Hydra exploded right in front of us, showering us with nasty green slime that vaporized as soon as it hit, the way monster guts tended to do.

"Gross!" I screamed. I almost wished it was still alive, just to pay it back for my hair. Do you have any clue how hard it is to get monster guts out of curls?

"Steamship!" yelled Tyson.

I let Luke help me up, coughing from the cloud of gunpowder smoke that was rolling across the banks.

Chugging toward us down the river was the strangest ship I'd ever seen. It rode low in the water like a submarine, its deck plated with iron. In the middle was a trapezoid-shaped casemate with slats on each side for cannons. A flag waved from the top— a wild boar and spear on a bloodred field. Lining the deck were zombies in gray uniforms— dead soldiers with shimmering faces that only partially covered their skulls, like the ghouls I'd seen in the Underworld guarding Hades' palace.

The ship was an ironclad. A Civil War battle cruiser. I could just make out the name along the prow in moss-covered letters: CSS Birmingham.

And standing next to the smoking cannon that had almost killed us, wearing full Greek battle armor, was Clarisse.

"Damn it Castellan!" She snapped, glaring at Luke, even though I was fairly sure she knew that it was more my fault than his. They didn't get along. "Come aboard, you godsdamned morons."

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

0.8 an offer i can refuse

warnings : cussing, monster attack, some psychotic ideology

word count : 3.3k

0.8 "You're So Vain" Except I'm Really Not, Certain People Just Expect Me to Be

Luke wanted to go alone since he was the sneakiest of us, but I refused, saying that it was too dangerous and it'd be bad if we got split up. Either we all went together, or nobody went.

"Nobody!" Tyson voted. "Please?"

But in the end he came along, nervously chewing on his huge fingernails. He stopped after I gave him a stern look, wary that the loud crunching noises he was making would draw unwanted attention.

We stopped at our cabin long enough to gather our stuff. We figured whatever happened, we would not be staying another night aboard the muder-zombie-enchanted cruise ship, even if they did have an all-you-can-eat buffet.

I kept Riptide and Shaker in the scabbards and the vitamins and thermos from Hermes were at the top of my bag. I didn't want Tyson to carry everything, but he insisted, and Luke pointed out that it would be easier to fight without the straps of the bag constricting my movements.

Besides, Tyson could carry three full duffel bags over his shoulder as easily as I could carry a single backpack.

We sneaked through the corridors, following the ship's YOU ARE HERE signs toward the admiralty suite. We hid whenever someone passed by, but most of the people we saw were just glassy-eyed zombie passengers.

It was seriously creepy, seeing people look right through us, like we were invisible, and at the same time state those programmed responses mechanically. So creepy.

As we came up the stairs to deck thirteen, where the admiralty suite was supposed to be, Luke hissed, "Hide!" and roughly dragged us into a supply closet.

A second later, I heard a couple of guys coming down the hall.

"You see that Aethiopian drakon in the cargo hold?" one of them said.

The other laughed. "Yeah, it's awesome."

Luke squeezed my arm hard. I frowned, getting a vague feeling of recognition towards the first guy's voice.

"I hear they got two more coming," the second voice said. "They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man— no contest!"

The voices faded down the corridor.

"That was Brian Jennings!" Luke exclaimed when they were gone, looking stricken. "He was in my Cabin, but he didn't come back this summer."

I sort of recalled Brian from the summer before. He was one of those undetermined campers who got stuck in the Hermes cabin because his Olympian dad or mom never claimed him. Kind of standoffish.

"I guess we know why, now," I replied slowly, frowning deeply. "But what's another half-blood doing here?"

"I don't know," Luke said, shaking his head. "It makes no sense."

We kept going down the corridor. I didn't need maps anymore to know I was getting close to Annabeth and/or Cody. I sensed something cold and unpleasant— the presence of evil.

"Angel, wait." Luke stopped suddenly. "Look at this."

He stood in front of a glass wall looking down into the multi-story canyon that ran through the middle of the ship. At the bottom was the Promenade— a mall full of shops— but that's not what had caught Luke's attention.

A group of monsters had assembled in front of the candy store: a dozen Laistrygonian giants like the ones who'd attacked me with dodgeballs, two hellhounds, and a few even stranger creatures— humanoid females with twin serpent tails instead of legs. I recognized them a second before Luke said their names, his voice grim.

"Scythian Dracaenae," he whispered, his breath warm on my ear. "Dragon women."

The monsters made a semicircle around a young guy in Greek armor who was hacking on a straw dummy. My stomach churned and I leaned away slightly when I realized the dummy was wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. As we watched, the guy in armor stabbed the dummy through its belly and ripped upward. Straw flew everywhere. The monsters cheered and howled. I shuddered in horror.

Luke stepped away from the window. Both of our faces were ashen, I could tell from the window's reflection.

"Come on," I urged him, trying to sound braver than I felt. "The sooner we find Annabeth and Cody the better."

At the end of the hallway were double oak doors that looked like they must lead somewhere important. When we were thirty feet away, Tyson stopped. "Voices inside."

"You can hear that far?" I asked.

Tyson closed his eye like he was concentrating hard. Then his voice changed, becoming a disturbing approximation of Cody's. "— the prophecy ourselves. The fools won't know which way to turn."

Before I could react, Tyson's voice changed again, becoming deeper and gruffer, like the other guy we'd heard talking to Annabeth outside the cafeteria. "You really think the old horseman is gone for good?"

Tyson laughed Annabeth's laugh, and spoke again in Cody's voice. "They can't trust him. Not with the skeletons in his closet. The poisoning of the tree was the final straw."

Luke shivered. "Stop that, Tyson! How are you doing that? It's freaky."

Tyson opened his eye, looking puzzled. "Just listening," he claimed. I supposed that it was just a Cyclopes thing.

"Keep going," I told him firmly. This was useful. "What else are they saying?"

Tyson closed his eye again. He hissed in the gruff man's voice: "Quiet!" Then Annabeth's voice, whispering: "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Tyson said in the gruff voice. "Right outside."

Too late, I realized what was happening.

I just had time to cry, "Run!" when the doors of the stateroom burst open and there was Cody, flanked by two hairy giants armed with javelins, their bronze tips aimed right at our chests.

"Well," Cody said with a crooked smile. "If it isn't my old friend, Luke, and his girlfriend. Come right in." Given the weapons pointed at our hearts, we couldn't exactly refuse the kind offer.

***

The stateroom was beautiful, and it was horrible.

The beautiful part: Huge windows curved along the back wall, looking out over the stern of the ship. The green sea and blue sky stretched all the way to the horizon. A Persian rug covered the floor. Two plush sofas occupied the middle of the room, with a canopied bed in one corner and a mahogany dining table in the other. The table was loaded with food— pizza boxes, bottles of soda, and a stack of roast beef sandwiches on a silver platter.

If it were just that, minus the monsters and terrifying parts, I would be tempted to like the room.

But the awful part completely overshadowed any nice parts. On a velvet dais at the back of the room lay a ten-foot-long golden casket, with an unnatural coldness radiating from it.

A sarcophagus, engraved with Ancient Greek scenes of cities in flames and heroes dying grisly deaths. Despite the sunlight streaming through the windows, the casket made the whole room feel cold.

"Well," Annabeth said, gesturing around herself proudly and grinning broadly at Luke. "A little nicer than Cabin Eleven, huh, Luke?"

She and Cody had both changed since last summer. Instead of shorts and a T-shirt, Cody wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His dark hair, which used to cover his eyes, was now clipped short. He looked like he was showing off what the fashionable college-age villain was wearing to Harvard this year.

Annabeth was dressed in a long pair of cargo pants, a red blouse made of silk, and a pair of black ballet flats. Her blonde curls were tied back in a plait, and the knife Luke had given her when they first met hung from her hip. I saw Luke cast it a bitter glare, his expression the darkest I'd ever seen it, save for when I had first told him and Chiron of Annabeth and Cody's betrayal.

"Sit," Annabeth told us with a smug smile. She waved her hand and three dining chairs scooted themselves into the center of the room.

None of us sat.

Her large friends were still pointing their javelins at us. They looked like twins, but they weren't human. They stood about eight feet tall, for one thing, and wore only blue jeans, probably because their enormous chests were already shag-carpeted with thick brown fur. They had claws for fingernails, feet like paws. Their noses were snoutlike, and their teeth were all pointed canines.

"Where are our manners?" Cody said smoothly. "These are our assistants, Agrius and Oreius. Perhaps you've heard of them."

I said nothing. Despite the javelins pointed at me, it wasn't the bear twins who scared me.

I'd contemplated what would happen when I inevitably met Annabeth and Cody again many times since they'd tried to kill me last summer. I wanted to kill them both, so badly for everything that they had done. Everything that they had almost done. But now that we were face-to-face, I had to clench my hands into fist to stop them from shaking.

"You don't know Agrius and Oreius's story?" Annabeth asked. "I'm not surprised, wisdom has never been your strong suit."

"Clearly it isn't yours either," I interjected coolly, in a typical display of my inability to keep my mouth shut. "Given the company that you keep nowadays."

She glared coldly at me, but Cody's grip restrained her from attacking. She continued telling the story of the Bear Twins. "Their mother... Well, it's sad, really. Aphrodite ordered the young woman to fall in love. She refused and ran to Artemis for help. Artemis let her become one of her maiden huntresses, but Aphrodite got her revenge. She bewitched the young woman into falling in love with a bear. When Artemis found out, she abandoned the girl in disgust. Typical of the gods, wouldn't you say? They fight with one another and the poor humans get caught in the middle. The girl's twin sons here, Agrius and Oreius, have no love for Olympus."

"They like half-bloods well enough, though," Cody added with a sly smile.

"For lunch," Agrius growled. His gruff voice was the one I'd heard talking with Annabeth earlier.

"Hehe! Hehe!" His brother Oreius laughed, licking his fur-lined lips. He kept laughing like he was having an asthmatic fit until The Traitors and Agrius all stared at him.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Agrius growled. "Go punish yourself!"

Oreius whimpered. He trudged over to the corner of the room, slumped onto a stool, and banged his forehead against the dining table, making the silver plates rattle. I felt kinda bad for him, actually. He seemed like he needed a hug.

Annabeth and Cody both acted like this was perfectly normal behavior.

"So, I hope that you enjoyed your last year of life, Allie," Cody smirked. "What have you been doing with it?"

"Not much. Few movies and T.V. shows here and there. Fashion week was pretty fun— I always love a good trip to Milan. Performed at the Grammys, and a few other award shows," I replied coldly, not wanting to make it obvious how difficult it was to think about that Grammys performance. "Though, I know what you've been doing. You poisoned Thalia's tree."

For a second, I thought that I saw regret flash over Annabeth's face. But it disappeared too quickly for me to be sure.

"Right to the point, eh?" Cody sighed. "Okay, sure I poisoned the tree. So what?"

"How could you, Annabeth?" Luke sounded so furious I thought that he might run straight forward and attack her. "Thalia sacrificed herself to save your life! Our lives! How could you just poison her tree and dishonor her—"

"I didn't dishonor her!" Annabeth snapped, standing and glaring at him. "The gods dishonored her, Luke! If Thalia were alive, she'd be on my side."

"You're wrong!"

"If you knew what was coming, you'd understand—"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" he yelled. "You're a traitor!"

Annabeth shook her head. "The gods have blinded you. Can't you imagine a world without them, Luke? What good is that ancient history you study? Three thousand years of baggage! The West is rotten to the core. It has to be destroyed. Join me! We can start the world anew. We could use your experience, Luke."

"Because you have none of your own!"

Her eyes narrowed. Annabeth had always resented not being allowed on quests, and only once tried going back to her father. It hadn't ended well.

"I know you, Luke," she insisted. "You deserve better than tagging along on some hopeless quest to save the camp. Half-Blood Hill will be overrun by monsters within the month. The heroes who survive will have no choice but to join us or be hunted to extinction. You really want to be on a losing team... with company like this?" She pointed at Tyson.

"Hey!" I snapped, temper flaring as I stepped in front of my brother defensively.

"Traveling with a Cyclops," she spat. "Talk about dishonoring Thalia's memory! You of all people—"

"Shut up!" he shouted.

"Leave him alone," I ordered. "And leave Tyson out of this."

Cody laughed scornfully. "Oh, yeah, we heard. Your father claimed him." I must have looked surprised, because he smiled smugly. "Yes, Allie, we know all about that. And about your plan to find the Fleece. What were those coordinates, again... 30, 31, 75, 12? You see, we still have friends at camp who keep the two of us posted."

"Spies, you mean."

He shrugged. "How many insults from your father can you stand, Allie? You think he's grateful for you? You think Poseidon cares for you any more than he cares for this monster? You're far too pretty to be treated like that." 

I gave a very dramatic scoff and eye roll while Luke just got angrier. Tyson clenched his fists and made a rumbling sound down in his throat.

"'Far too pretty.' Why the hell do people keep saying that? What does me being pretty have to do with anything? My good looks have already gotten me all of the power in the world that I could ever need," I snapped back. "Or do you keep mentioning that because you think I actually care about shit like that? I'm not so vain, you know." 

Annabeth chuckled bitterly, turning away from her and Luke's staring contest. "The gods are using you, Allie. Do you have any idea what's in store for you if you reach your twenty-first birthday? Has Chiron even told you the prophecy?"

I hated that she knew just how to throw me off balance.

Twenty-first birthday?

I mean, I knew Chiron had received a prophecy from the Oracle about the possible destruction of the world many years ago. I knew that part of it was probably about me. I knew it would happen sometime during my twenties. But, on my twenty-first birthday (if I even made it there)? I didn't like the sound of that.

"I know what I need to know," I managed. "Like who my enemies are."

"Then you're a fool."

Tyson smashed the nearest dining chair to splinters. "Allie is not a fool!"

Before I could stop him, he charged Cody. His fists came down toward Cody's head— a double overhead blow that would've knocked a hole in titanium— but the bear twins intercepted.

They each caught one of Tyson's arms and stopped him cold. They pushed him back and Tyson stumbled. He fell to the carpet so hard the deck shook.

"Too bad, Cyclops," Annabeth said, voice filled with spite. "Looks like my grizzly friends together are more than a match for your strength. Maybe I should let the two of them—"

"What's in the sarcophagus?" I demanded, frantic to distract her.

Both of their expressions grew maniacal, and if I had held any illusions as to them being insane before, that would have dealt with it swiftly.

"He is re-forming," Cody declared. "Little by little, we're calling his life force out of the pit. With every recruit who pledges our cause, another small piece appears—"

"You're insane," Luke said, as disgusted as I was at the very thought.

"Join us and you'll be rewarded. We have powerful friends, sponsors rich enough to buy this cruise ship and much more. Allie, you can have more than you have now— whatever you want. Live the life you live, just without people sexualizing you. You too, Luke, anything your heart desires!"

"Go to Tartarus," he spat in reply. 

I simply glared, hoping that erased any illusions of my being tempted by his suggestion. "I'm rich enough to buy this whole ship and more, sponsors not needed."

Cody sighed. "A shame." Annabeth looked away, hiding her face from Luke's betrayed, bitter glare. "Allie, you could be queen over everyone in the world. Make them do whatever you want. Respect you the way you should be respected. You won't have to be objectified anymore. Just say yes."

I hated that he knew how much I hated being sexualized. It was pretty much the only thing I hated about my job. Still, if this wackjob thought I was about to marry the fucking Lord of Time, he was about to be very disappointed.

"I've lived with it all these years, what's a few more? I'm sure as hell not about to be bribed into joining your little pity party against Olympus. So you both can go ahead and fuck yourselves." 

Cody shook his head and picked up something that looked like a TV remote and pressed a red button. Within seconds the door of the stateroom opened and two uniformed crew members came in, armed with nightsticks. They had the same glassy-eyed look like the other mortals I'd seen, but I had a feeling this wouldn't make them any less dangerous in a fight.

"Ah, good, security," Cody said, "I'm afraid we have some stowaways."

"Yes, sir," they said dreamily.

Cody turned to Oreius. "It's time to feed the Aethiopian drakon. Take these fools below and show them how it's done."

Oreius grinned stupidly. "Hehe! Hehe!"

"Let me go, too," Agrius grumbled. "My brother is worthless. That Cyclops—"

"Is no threat," Annabeth said. She glanced back at the golden casket, frowning as if something were troubling her. "Agrius, you're staying here. We have important matters to discuss."

"But—"

"Oreius, don't fail me. Stay in the hold to make sure the drakon is properly fed."

Oreius prodded us with his javelin and herded us out of the stateroom, followed by the two human security guards.

As I walked down the corridor with Oreius's javelin poking me in the back, I thought about what Annabeth had said and completely ignored Cody's offer— that the bear twins together were a match for Tyson's strength. But maybe separately...

We exited the corridor amidships and walked across an open deck lined with lifeboats. I knew the ship well enough to realize this would be our last look at the sunlight. Once we got to the other side, we'd take the elevator down into the hold, and that would be it.

I looked at Tyson and said, "Now."

Thank the gods, he understood. He turned and smacked Oreius thirty feet backward into the swimming pool, right into the middle of the zombie tourist family.

"Ah!" the kids yelled in unison. "We are not having a blast in the pool!"

One of the security guards drew his nightstick, but Luke knocked the wind out of him with a well-placed kick. The other guard ran for the nearest alarm box.

"Stop him!" Luke yelled, but it was too late.

Just before I banged him over the head with a deck chair, he hit the alarm.

Red lights flashed. Sirens wailed.

"Lifeboat!" I cried.

We ran for the nearest one.

By the time we got the cover off, monsters and more security men were swarming the deck, pushing aside tourists and waiters with trays of tropical drinks. A guy in Greek armor drew his sword and charged, but slipped in a puddle of piña colada. Laistrygonian archers assembled on the deck above us, notching arrows in their enormous bows.

"How do you launch this thing?" screamed Luke.

A hellhound leaped at me, but Tyson slammed it aside with a fire extinguisher.

"Get in!" I yelled. I pulled out Riptide and slashed the first volley of arrows out of the air. Any second now we would be overwhelmed.

The lifeboat was hanging over the side of the ship, high above the water. Luke and Tyson were having no luck with the release pulley.

I jumped in beside them.

"Hold on!" I yelled, and I cut the ropes.

A shower of arrows whistled over our heads as we free-fell toward the ocean.

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lullie #lukecastellan #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

0.7 the princess andromeda

warnings : none ( from what i can remember lol lmk if i need to add any )

word count : 4.0k

0.7 We Board the Most Murder-Boat Murder Boat to Ever Murder Boat

I was staring at the waves with crossed arms and a brooding expression when Luke and Tyson found me.

"What's going on?" Luke asked, pulling me to him with one arm and giving me a worried once-over. His sword was out and once he established that I wasn't hurt, he scanned the area for threats. "I heard you calling for help!"

"Me, too!" Tyson agreed. "Heard you yell, 'Bad things are attacking!'" 

Okay, I loved Tyson, but surely he knew that I would never phrase anything like that? Maybe he was paraphrasing, not quoting me.

"I didn't call you guys," I told them reassuringly, though distantly, still trying to figure out what I was going to do. "I'm fine."

"But then who..." Luke noticed the three yellow duffel bags, then the thermos and the bottle of vitamins I was holding. "What—"

"Just listen," I cut him off. "We don't have much time."

I told them about my conversation with Hermes (Luke's expression went tight as soon as I mentioned him). By the time I was finished, I could hear screeching in the distance— patrol harpies picking up our scent.

"Allie," Luke said seriously. "We have to do the quest. Travis and Conner overheard Mark and Sherman talking about how Tantalus wouldn't let Clarisse select any companions. She needs our help."

That made my decision for me. If there was one thing about me everyone could agree on, it was my fierce loyalty towards my friends. I couldn't stand back and let Clarisse be hurt, or Camp be destroyed. I nodded, but Luke didn't notice, and was still trying to convince me.

"Camp is our home, we can't let it be destroyed, and that's what'll happen if we don't go, not to mention Grover! Tyson can stay behind and tell them—"

"I want to go," Tyson said suddenly.

"No!" Luke's voice sounded close to panic. "I mean... Angel, come on. You know that's impossible. Three people per quest, that's the rule. You, me and Clarisse make three. Tyson can't come."

I bit my lip in thought. Somewhere over the past year, I had noticed that the campers had cast in me the role of a leader for them. It was a heavy weight, and I often felt lost in it. But I wasn't going to let them down, not if I could help it. Part of that meant making decisions properly, with my head and not my heart. Even if I hated to think things through.

Luke and Tyson both looked at me, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, the cruise ship was getting farther and farther away and the Harpies were getting closer.

The thing was, part of me didn't want Tyson along. I loved him, and quests were dangerous. I didn't know how much help he'd be, or how I'd keep him safe. Sure, he was strong, but Tyson was a little kid in Cyclops terms, maybe seven or eight years old, mentally. I could picture him freaking out and starting to cry while we were trying to sneak past a monster or something. He'd get us all killed.

On the other hand, Hermes had evidently intended for Tyson to come too, otherwise, he wouldn't have called him over to me. 

"We can't leave him," I decided. "Tantalus will punish him for us being gone."

"Angel," Luke said, trying to keep his cool. "we're going to Polyphemus's island! Polyphemus is an S-i-k ... a C-y-k..." He flung his hands up in frustration. Luke was dyslexic, too. We could've been there all night while he tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!"

"Tyson can go," I insisted, "if he wants to. But we're about to get eaten, so we can argue later."

Tyson clapped his hands. "Want to!"

Luke scowled bitterly, but he knew me well enough to know that once I made up my mind, I never changed it. Or maybe he just knew that we didn't have time to argue.

"All right," he huffed. "How do we get to that ship?"

I faltered, doubt flashing over my face and coming out in my tone when I replied after a second's pause. I pursed my lips and tried not to let my doubts show. "Hermes said my father would help."

Luke looked as wary as me at the thought of pinning our hopes on a god, but he gestured for me to go ahead.

Reluctantly, I stepped into the waves.

"Ah, my lord," I called out awkwardly, feeling like a fool for both talking to the air, and hoping that my father, of all people (or gods, whatever), would help me. "We need your help. We need to get to that ship, like, before the harpies eat us, so, uh, a little help would be very appreciated. Please. Sir."

At first, nothing happened. Waves crashed against the shore like normal. The harpies sounded like they were right behind the sand dunes, and I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. Then, about a hundred yards out to sea, three white lines appeared on the surface. They moved fast toward the shore, like claws ripping through the ocean.

As they neared the beach, the surf burst apart and the heads of three white stallions reared out of the waves.

"He actually answered!" I exclaimed and breathlessly laughed in shock.

"Fish ponies!" Tyson declared reverently, at the same time.

He was right. As the creatures pulled themselves onto the sand, I saw that they were only horses in the front; their back halves were silvery fish bodies, with glistening scales and rainbow tail fins.

"Hippocampi!" I realized, remembering my lessons. "They're beautiful."

"No kidding," Luke whistled in agreement. The nearest one whinnied in appreciation and nuzzled me.

Another screech broke me from my awe, and I hastily snatched up a bag, Luke copying me.

"We'll admire them later," I said. "Come on!"

"There!" a voice screeched behind us. "Bad children out of cabins! Snack time for lucky harpies!"

Five of them were fluttering over the top of the dunes— plump little hags with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies. They weren't very fast, thank the gods, but they were vicious if they caught you.

"Tyson!" I snapped. "Grab a duffel bag!"

He was still staring at the hippocampi with his mouth hanging open.

"Tyson!"

"Uh?"

"Come on!"

With Luke's help, I got him moving. We gathered the bags and mounted our steeds.

Poseidon must've known Tyson was one of the passengers, because one hippocampus was much larger than the other two— just right for carrying a Cyclops.

"Let's go!" I urged. My hippocampus turned and plunged into the waves. Luke's and Tyson's followed right behind. 

The harpies cursed at us, wailing for their snacks to come back, but the hippocampi raced over the water at the speed of Jet Skis. The harpies fell behind, and soon the shore of Camp Half-Blood was nothing but a dark smudge. I wondered if I'd ever see the place again. But right then, I had other problems.

The cruise ship was now looming in front of us— our ride toward Florida and the Sea of Monsters.

Riding the hippocampus was even easier than riding a pegasus. We zipped along with the wind in our faces, speeding through the waves so smooth and steady I hardly needed to hold on at all.

As we got closer to the cruise ship, I realized just how huge it was. I felt as though I were looking up at a building in Manhattan. The white hull was at least ten stories tall, topped with another dozen levels of decks with brightly lit balconies and portholes. The ship's name was painted just above the bowline in black letters, lit with a spotlight. It took me a few seconds to decipher it:

PRINCESS ANDROMEDA

Attached to the bow was a huge masthead— a three-story-tall woman wearing a white Greek chiton, sculpted to look as if she were chained to the front of the ship. She was young and beautiful, with flowing black hair, but her expression was one of absolute terror. Why anybody would want a screaming princess on the front of their vacation ship, I had no idea.

I shivered uncomfortably as I remembered the myth about Andromeda and how she had been chained to a rock by her own parents as a sacrifice to a sea monster. The monster had been sent to terrorize their kingdom as a punishment from one of the gods for something. Perseus, a son of Zeus I would've been named after had I been male according to my mom, had saved her just in time and turned the sea monster to stone using the head of Medusa. Perseus had also been both the half-brother and grandfather of Heracles, which I always thought was really weird. Seriously, Zeus had no boundaries. It was kind of ridiculous, really.

"How do we get aboard?" Luke shouted over the noise of the waves, but the hippocampi seemed to know what we needed. They skimmed along the starboard side of the ship, riding easily through its' huge wake, and pulled up next to a service ladder riveted to the side of the hull.

"You first," I told Luke.

He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed the bottom rung. Once he'd hoisted himself onto the ladder, his hippocampus whinnied a farewell and dove underwater.

Luke began to climb. I let him get a few rungs up, then I began to follow him. Compared to the climbing wall at camp, this was easier than leaning down to touch my toes.

After that, it was just Tyson in the water. His hippocampus was treating him to 360° aerials and backward ollies, and Tyson was laughing so hysterically, the sound echoed up the side of the ship.

"Tyson, shhh!" I ordered, glancing back down at him sternly. "Come on, bub! We gotta hurry."

"Can't we take Rainbow?" he asked, his smile fading.

I stared at him for a second. "Rainbow?"

The hippocampus whinnied as if he liked his new name.

"Um, we have to go," I said carefully, hoping the answer wouldn't make him cry. "Rainbow... Well, he can't climb ladders."

Tyson sniffled. He buried his face in the hippocampus's mane. "I will miss you, Rainbow!"

The hippocampus made a neighing sound I could've sworn was crying.

"Maybe we'll see him again sometime," I suggested, desperate to get him up the ladder and onto the ship. Luke was already clambering over the rails.

"Oh, please!" Tyson said, perking up immediately. "Tomorrow!"

I didn't make any promises, but I finally convinced Tyson to say his farewells and grab hold of the ladder. With a final sad whinny, Rainbow the hippocampus did a back-flip and dove into the sea.

The ladder led to a maintenance deck stacked with yellow lifeboats. There was a set of locked double doors, which Luke used his own abilities to unlock. It was seriously cool to watch him simply touch the handle, close his eyes for a second, and then hear the lock click.

"Holy shit, that's cool," I muttered to him.

He gave me a slightly melancholy smile. "Thalia used to say the same thing," he told me wistfully. I bit my lip and didn't say anything else. I wondered if Thalia's tree dying made it feel like he was losing her for the second time. I wouldn't have been surprised if it was.

I had expected that we'd need to sneak around, being stowaways and all, but after checking a few corridors and peering over a balcony into a huge central promenade lined with closed shops, I began to realize there was nobody to hide from. I mean, sure it was the middle of the night, but we walked half the length of the boat and met no one. We passed forty or fifty cabin doors and heard no sound behind any of them. It sent shivers up my spine, and the feel of my necklace and bracelet were incredibly reassuring.

"It's a ghost ship," I murmured.

"No," Tyson said, fiddling with the strap of his duffel bag nervously. "Bad smell."

Luke frowned. "I don't smell anything."

"Cyclopes are like satyrs," I explained. "They can smell monsters. Isn't that right, Tyson?"

He nodded nervously.

"Okay," Luke said, tapping his sheathed sword tensely. "So what exactly do you smell?"

"Something bad," Tyson answered.

"Wow," Luke mumbled. "That was helpful. Oof!"

The breath left him in a gush as I jammed my elbow firmly into his ribs. We exchanged sharp looks, before Luke scowled and looked away. I smiled triumphantly and continued to creep along, taking my necklace off, though I didn't summon my sword just yet (by the way, I guess now would be a good time to mention I can't break either of those jewelry pieces if I tried. I could break the chain of my necklace, turn it into Riptide and then change it back and it'd be fine. Plus, none of the jewels ever fell off, which was immensely helpful). The boys followed me, Tyson in the middle and Luke at the back. A good formation, the two skills fighters in the lead and back positions, while the most vulnerable was shielded by us.

We came outside on the swimming pool level. There were rows of empty deck chairs and a bar closed off with a chain curtain. The water in the pool glowed eerily, sloshing back and forth from the motion of the ship.

Above us, fore and aft were more levels— a climbing wall, a putt-putt golf course, a revolving restaurant, but no sign of life.

And yet... I sensed something familiar. Something dangerous. I had the feeling that if I weren't so tired and burned out on adrenaline from our long night, I might be able to put a name to what was wrong. The fact that I couldn't, pissed me off more than I wanted to admit.

"We need a hiding place," I decided. "Somewhere safe to sleep."

"Sleep sounds good," Luke agreed wearily.

We explored a few more corridors until we found an empty suite on the ninth level. The door was open, which struck me as weird. There was a basket of chocolate goodies on the table, an iced-down bottle of sparkling cider on the nightstand, and a mint on the pillow with a handwritten note that said: Enjoy your cruise! It definitely felt like a trap, but I was so exhausted that I decided as long as I got a few hours of rest, I didn't give a damn if we were attacked or not.

We opened our duffel bags for the first time and found that Hermes really had thought of everything— extra clothes, toiletries, camp rations, a Ziploc bag full of cash, a leather pouch full of golden drachmas. He'd even managed to pack Tyson's oilcloth with his tools and metal bits, Luke's flying shoes, and my phone and credit card, which made all of us feel a lot better.

"I'll be next door," Luke told me. "You guys don't drink or eat anything. Come wake me up if you get another nightmare, Angel."

"I will. Do you think this place is enchanted?" I asked seriously.

He frowned. "I don't know. Something isn't right. Just... be careful."

We locked our doors.

Tyson crashed on the couch. He tinkered for a few minutes on his metalworking project— which he still wouldn't show me— but soon enough he was yawning. He wrapped up his oilcloth and passed out.

I lay on the bed and stared out the glass door out to the balcony. I thought I heard voices out in the hallway, like whispering, despite having seen no one all over the ship. The voices kept me awake. They reminded me of my trip to the Underworld— the way the spirits of the dead sounded as they drifted past. It was not a fond memory.

Finally, my weariness got the best of me. I fell asleep... and then I had my worst dream yet.

I was standing in a cavern at the edge of an enormous pit. I knew the place far too well for my comfort. The entrance to Tartarus. And I recognized the cold laugh that echoed from the darkness below.

"If it isn't the young heroine," The voice was like a knife blade scraping across stone. "On her way to another great victory."

I wanted to shout at Kronos to leave me alone. I wanted to draw my sword and attack him. But I couldn't move. And even if I could, how could I kill something that had already been destroyed— chopped to pieces and cast into eternal darkness?

"Oh, don't let me stop you," the titan said mockingly. "Perhaps this time, when you fail, you'll wonder if slaving for the gods is worthwhile. How exactly has your father shown his appreciation lately?"

His laughter filled the cavern, and suddenly the scene changed.

It was a different cave— Grover's bedroom prison in the Cyclops's lair.

Grover was sitting at the loom in his soiled wedding dress, madly unraveling the threads of the unfinished bridal train.

"Honeypie!" the monster shouted from behind the boulder.

Grover yelped and began weaving the threads back together.

The room shook as the boulder was pushed aside. Looming in the doorway was a Cyclops so huge he made Tyson look about three feet tall. He had jagged yellow teeth and gnarled hands as big as my whole body. He wore a faded purple T-shirt that said WORLD SHEEP EXPO 2001. He must've been at least fifteen feet tall, but the most startling thing was his enormous milky eye, scarred and webbed with cataracts. If he wasn't completely blind, he had to be pretty damn close.

Made sense, I guess. I think it was Odysseus who stabbed him in the eye, on his way back from Troy. "What are you doing?" the monster demanded.

"Nothing!" Grover said in his falsetto voice. I winced at the sound. "Just weaving my bridal train, as you can see."

The Cyclops stuck one hand into the room and groped around until he found the loom. He pawed at the cloth. "It hasn't gotten any longer!"

"Oh, um, yes it has, dearest. See? I've added at least an inch."

"Too many delays!" the monster bellowed. Then he sniffed the air. "You smell good! Like goats!"

"Oh." Grover forced a weak giggle. My heart broke at my poor friend's fear, and a fierce hatred sprang into my heart for his tormentor. I would kill Polyphemus for this, I vowed silently as I watched. "Do you like it? It's Eau de Chèvre. I wore it just for you." 

Goat water. What the fuck? What the hell kind of perfume name is that? You can't just say something in French and call it perfume, Grover.

"Mmmm!" The Cyclops bared his pointed teeth. "Good enough to eat!"

"Oh, you're such a flirt!"

"No more delays!"

"But dear, I'm not done!"

"Tomorrow!"

"No, no. Ten more days."

"Five!"

"Oh, well, seven, then. If you insist."

"Seven! That is less than five, right?"

"Certainly. Oh yes."

The monster grumbled, still not happy with his deal, but he left Grover to his weaving and rolled the boulder back into place.

Grover closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"Hurry, Allie," he muttered. "Please, please, please!"

I woke to a ship's whistle and a voice on the intercom— some guy with an Australian accent who sounded way too happy for the morning.

"Good morning, passengers! We'll be at sea all day today. Excellent weather for the poolside mambo party! Don't forget million-dollar bingo in the Kraken Lounge at one o'clock, and for our special guests, disemboweling practice on the Promenade!"

I bolted upright in my bed. "What did he say?"

Tyson groaned, still half asleep. He was lying face-down on the couch, his feet so far over the edge they were in the bathroom. "The happy man said... bowling practice?"

There was an urgent knock on the suite's interior door and Luke stuck his head in— his blond hair messy in a cute way and his blue eyes wide with panic. "Disembowelling practice?"

Once we were all dressed, we ventured out into the ship and were surprised to see other people. A dozen senior citizens were heading to breakfast. A dad was taking his kids to the pool for a morning swim. Crew members in crisp white uniforms strolled the deck, tipping their hats to the passengers.

Nobody asked who we were. Nobody gave us much attention. But there was something wrong.

As the family of swimmers passed us, the dad told his kids: "We are on a cruise. We are having fun."

"Yes," his three kids said in unison, their expressions blank. "We are having a blast. We will swim in the pool."

They wandered off.

Luke and I exchanged disturbed expressions, both of us grasping our weapons tightly for comfort.

"Good morning," a crew member told us, his eyes glazed. "We are all enjoying ourselves aboard the Princess Andromeda. Have a nice day." He drifted away.

"Angel, something is seriously wrong," Luke whispered to me under his breath. "They're all in some kind of trance."

"Wonder how you found that one out, Sherlock." Before we'd left I'd hooked my scabbards to my belt, just in case I needed them and I conducted an experiment. Before Luke could stop me, I turned my jewelry into swords. No one gave me a sideways glance. Except for Luke, who looked ready to decapitate me. I stuck them into their sheaths and we kept walking.

Then we passed a cafeteria and saw our first monster. It was a hellhound— a black mastiff with its front paws up on the buffet line and its muzzle buried in the scrambled eggs. It must've been young, because it was small compared to most— no bigger than a grizzly bear. Still, my blood turned cold.

The weird thing was: a middle-aged couple was standing in the buffet line right behind the devil dog, patiently waiting their turn for the eggs. They didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Even with the Mist, they should have seen a dog in front of them, and that wasn't normal.

"Not hungry anymore," Tyson murmured.

"Me either," Luke and I both agreed, backing out of the cafeteria. 

We began to head away from it, when a reptilian voice came from down the corridor, "Ssssix more joined yesssterday."

I gestured frantically toward the nearest hiding place— the women's room— and all three of us ducked inside.

Something— or more like two somethings— slithered past the bathroom door, making sounds like sandpaper against the carpet.

"Yesss," a second reptilian voice said, making me shiver. "He drawssss them. Ssssoon we will be sssstrong."

The things slithered into the cafeteria with a cold hissing that might have been snake laughter.

Luke looked at me. "We have to get out of here."

"Good idea, genius," I snapped, tension making me bitchy. "I hadn't figured that out. Really, Pretty Boy, you're a genius."

He shot me an irritated look, but another voice kept him from replying.

I recognized this voice, and it was one that chilled me worse than any monster's.

"— only a matter of time. Don't push me, Agrius!"

It was Annabeth, beyond a doubt. I could never forget her voice. My palm itched in phantom pain. Luke twitched, and I jumped on his back and shoved a hand over his mouth to keep him from doing something stupid. He had gone from being hurt to being furious with Annabeth's betrayal, and I didn't want him to jump out and attack her. Not yet, at any rate.

"I'm not pushing you!" a guy growled. His voice was deeper and even angrier than Annabeth's. "I'm just saying, if this gamble doesn't pay off—"

"It'll pay off," she snapped. "They'll take the bait. Now, come, we've got to get to the admiralty suite and check on the casket."

Their voices receded down the corridor, and I slowly released Luke, feeling the familiar sensation of adrenaline flooding me.

Tyson whimpered. "Leave now?"

Luke and I exchanged looks and came to a silent agreement.

"We can't," I told Tyson firmly.

"We have to find out what Annabeth is up to," Luke agreed. "And if possible, we're going to beat her and Cody up, bind them in chains, and drag them both to Mount Olympus."

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lullie #lukecastellan #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

0.6 decisions, decisions

warnings : snakes, cussing, mention of being eaten by harpies

word count : 4.7k

0.6 A Decision that Concerns the Fate of the World is Once Again Placed in the Palm of My Hands

The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Luke, Tyson, and I hadn't disturbed them with our bad chariot driving.

It was so completely unfair, especially because neither Tyson nor I drove a chariot, so I told him what my mind had immediately thought. 

"Oh, go chase a fucking donut, asshole." 

That didn't seem to help his mood. 

He sentenced us to kitchen patrol— scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so Luke and I had to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.

Tyson didn't mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and started scrubbing, but Luke and I had to suffer through hours of hot, dangerous work, especially since there were tons of extra plates. Tantalus had ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory— a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.

The only good thing about our punishment was that it gave Luke and me lots of time to talk.

"If he's really found it," he murmured after listening to my explanation of my dream again. "And if we could retrieve it—"

"Hold on," I said. "You act like this... whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save camp. What is it?"

"You know this, Angel," he insisted. "What do you think of when you think of sheep?"

"How completely uncomfortable 100% fleece sweaters are," I replied seriously. 

He rolled his eyes, grinning at my biting humor. "Seriously, Angel," he pressed. "What story do you think of?"

I huffed, dried another plate, put it on the rack, and ran through my mental list of Greek Tales That Will Probably Come Back to Bite Me In The Ass One Way or Another.

"Jason and the Argonauts," I finally guessed. "You seriously think that Grover's found the Golden Fleece, and that it can save Thalia's tree?"

Luke nodded, a hint of desperation in his bright eyes. "It's our only chance," he insisted. "And Grover's, too." Then he paused before continuing reluctantly. "But still, it's all very convenient. What if it's a trap?"

I bit my lip, but then I shrugged. "Then we spring it," I replied briskly. "Saving the Camp and Grover, that's what's important."

Luke glanced at Tyson, who'd lost interest in our conversation and was happily making toy boats out of cups and spoons in the lava.

"Angel," he muttered to me softly. "We'll have to fight a Cyclops. Polyphemus, the worst of the Cyclopes. And there's only one place his island could be. The Sea of Monsters."

"Sea of Monsters. Right, where is that, by the way?"

He gave me a fondly exasperated look. "We covered that, you know," he pointed out, making me shrug indifferently. Surely he knew better than to expect me to pay attention to geography? He rolled his eyes. "Formerly in the Mediterranean, now in the Bermuda Triangle. Remember now?"

"Nope," I replied. "But okay, to the Bermuda Triangle, then. Good thing I'm a daughter of the Sea God, huh?"

He frowned thoughtfully, crossing his arms. "Tantalus will never let us go," he mused. "We need to figure out how to force him to issue a quest."

"We could just kill him," I suggested wistfully, a dreamy smile on my lips as I thought of the bastard trying (and failing) to fill Chiron's position, dying painfully in various ways. 

Luke cast me an amused glance. "Anyone ever tell you, you can be really scary for a girl who doesn't even weigh 120?" he asked. 

I flashed him a cheerful smile, nodding. "You, Grover, the Stolls. Lots of people say my acting is really good, so I guess that kinda counts. Especially when I do my marvel movies as Celeste Stark. And Wonder Woman. And Aeverlynne Targaryen... Oh! And when I played Katniss Everdeen and Sapphire Golden in The Hunger Games. Plus Meredith Spades in The Walking Dead and Aphrodite Bennett in Criminal Minds, and— well, all the others," I answered, listing the rolls off on my fingers. "Anyway, seeing as you seem to have dismissed my idea of trying to murder a dead man as a possibility, what's your idea?"

"We tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody," Luke said. "The whole camp will hear. They'll pressure him. He won't be able to refuse."

"Right then." I gave a sharp nod. "We'd better get these dishes done. Hand me the lava spray gun, will you?"

***

That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. We all sat around a semicircle of stone steps, singing half-heartedly and watching the bonfire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.

We did all the standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land," etc. The bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, I'd seen it fifty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallows burst into the flames. Tonight, the fire was only two feet high, barely warm, and the flames were the color of lint.

Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Then he gave Tantalus a distasteful look and headed back toward the Big House. I hoped that his look meant that he was getting as fed up with Tantalus as the rest of us, and then Chiron would come back. And Tantalus would go back to suffering for eternity in the Fields of Punishment.

The lovely thought made a canary grin stretch over my face, and earned me several nervous looks from the people around, who all knew that such expressions on any half-blood (especially me) signaled impending destruction. I tried to tone down my smirk a bit after that.

When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!" He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames. Several snickers emanated from the crowd, including myself, but Tantalus valiantly ignored us. He turned back toward us, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."

"Hold up," I said, blatantly and happily interrupting him.

Tantalus' eye twitched. If I was doing my self-appointed job right, he was getting as sick of me as I was of him. Maybe then he'd even leave willingly. 

"Our celebrity-turned-kitchen girl has something to say?"

Some of the more asshole-ish campers snickered, but I wasn't going to let anybody embarrass me into silence. I stood and looked at Luke. Thank the gods, he stood up with me.

"We have an idea to save the camp," I announced.

Dead silence, but I could tell that I'd gotten everybody's interest, because the campfire flared bright yellow.

"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—"

"The Golden Fleece," I said, specifically enunciating the correct syllables. That was something I picked up after years and years of acting: how to get people's attention just with words. "We know where it is."

The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop me, I blurted out my dream about Grover and Polyphemus's island. After I finished, Luke stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do.

"The Fleece can save the camp," he concluded. "I'm certain of it."

"Nonsense," said Tantalus dismissively. "We don't need saving."

Everybody stared at him in an incredulous silence until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.

"Besides," he added quickly, "the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."

"Yes, I would," I cut him off again, taking sadistic pleasure in the irritation that flashed across his face. Oh, yeah. I was doing my job perfectly.

Luke leaned toward me and whispered, "You would?"

I nodded, because my memory had been directed to our taxi drive with the Grey Sisters. At the time, the information they'd given me made no sense. But now...

"30, 31, 75, 12," I said.

"Ooo-kay," Tantalus said. "Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers."

"Bitch, they're sailing coordinates," I cut him off. "Latitude and longitude. Simple geography. You learn it in, like, the sixth grade."

"30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west," Malcolm elaborated, looking excitedly. "She's right! That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!"

"Wait just a minute," Tantalus began.

But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"

The flames rose higher.

"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted. But we didn't stop, continuing our chant and stamping our feet.

"Fine!" Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. "You brats want me to assign a quest?"

"YES!"

"Very well," he agreed. "I shall authorize a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying."

My heart filled with excitement and I waited eagerly for him to finish.

"I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!" Tantalus announced. "And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champion is obvious." Tantalus looked at Luke and me as if he wanted to flay us alive. "The champion should be one who has earned the camp's respect." 

My expression stalled. Earned the camp's respect? Maybe I'd done that, but Tantalus was too proud to ever admit that. I clenched my teeth, realizing where this was probably going. 

"Someone who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. You shall lead this quest... Clarisse!"

The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering, "CLARISSE! CLARISSE!"

Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chest swelled with pride. "I accept the quest!"

Part of me was less than pleased, because I believed firmly in the phrase 'if you want something done right, do it yourself.' But Clarisse was one of my best friends. I knew how dedicated she was to the safety of the camp, and I trusted her to find the Fleece. And Clarisse deserved the chance to prove herself.

She cast a quick glance in my direction as she passed me by, heading to the Big House, and I shot her a bright grin and two thumbs up. When I looked over at Tantalus, he was glaring furiously at me, and I knew that he had deliberately chosen Clarisse in the hopes of pissing me off. My thumbs up had turned to two middle fingers as I jumped in excitement with the rest of the camp. 

"Fuck you, asshole," I mouthed silently, and he turned away with a scowl. I smirked, knowing that I had won another round.

"Let me remind everyone— no one leaves this camp without my permission," he announced, glaring particularly at me.

I realized what it meant immediately. Luke and I, even if Clarisse chose us as her companions, wouldn't be leaving camp. 

"Anyone who tries... Well, if they survive the attempt, they will be expelled forever, but it won't come to that. The harpies will be enforcing the curfew from now on, and they are always hungry! Goodnight, my dear campers. Sleep well."

With a wave of Tantalus's hand, the fire was extinguished, and the campers trailed off toward their cabins in the dark.

As I lay in bed, my worry for Grover and my home began intensifying again. I couldn't explain things to Tyson, of course. He wouldn't understand. He knew I was upset. He knew I wanted to go on a trip and Tantalus wouldn't let me.

"You will go anyway?" he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "It would be hard. Very hard."

"I will help."

"No. I couldn't ask you to do that, bub. Too dangerous."

Tyson looked down at the pieces of metal he was assembling in his lap— springs and gears and tiny wires. Beckendorf had given him some tools and spare parts, and now Tyson spent every night tinkering, though I wasn't sure how his huge hands could handle such delicate little pieces.

"What are you building?" I asked gently.

Tyson didn't answer. Instead, he made a whimpering sound in the back of his throat. "Luke doesn't like Cyclopeses. You... don't want me along?"

"Oh, that's not it," I lied, though truthfully, Tyson was too young for me to want him on a dangerous quest. "Luke likes you. Really."

He had tears in the corners of his eye. I remembered that Grover, like all satyrs, could read human emotions. I wondered if Cyclopes had the same ability.

Tyson folded up his tinkering project in an oilcloth. He lay down on his bunk bed and hugged his bundle like a teddy bear. When he turned toward the wall, I could see the weird scars on his back, like somebody had plowed over him with a tractor. I wondered for the millionth time how he'd gotten hurt.

"Daddy always cared for m-me," he sniffled. "Now... I think he was mean to have a Cyclops boy. I should not have been born."

"Don't talk that way! Poseidon claimed you, didn't he? So... he must care about you... a lot..."

My voice trailed off as I thought about all those years Tyson had lived on the streets of New York in a cardboard refrigerator box. How could Tyson think that Poseidon had cared for him? What kind of father let that happen to his kid, even if his kid was a monster? The Ancient Laws only applied to demigods, after all.

"Tyson... camp will be a good home for you. The others will get used to you. I promise."

Tyson sighed. I waited for him to say something. Then I realized he was already asleep.

I lay back on my bed and tried to close my eyes, but I just couldn't. I was afraid I might have another dream about Grover. If the empathy link was real... if something happened to Grover... would I ever wake up?

The full moon shone through my window. The sound of the surf rumbled in the distance. I could smell the warm scent of the strawberry fields, and hear the laughter of the dryads as they chased owls through the forest. But something felt wrong about the night— the sickness of Thalia's tree, spreading across the valley.

Could Clarisse save Half-Blood Hill? I had faith in her ability, but I also knew Tantalus would be strict on who Clarisse could bring with her. And I also knew that multiple people went on quests for a reason. And one of those reasons was that there would be someone to continue on if the leader fell.

I got out of bed and pulled on some clothes. I grabbed a beach blanket, a bag of M&Ms, and a couple of pre-made cold coffees from under my bunk. The snacks were against the rules. No outside food or drinks were allowed, but I almost always stretched that rule. Not only for me, but the Hermes Cabin and I had come to an agreement that, as long as I kept the snacks going their way, I was safe from any and all pranks. 

Sneaking out after curfew was against the rules, too. If I got caught I'd either get in big trouble or be eaten by the harpies. But I wanted to see the ocean. I always felt better there. My thoughts were clearer. Plus, I knew I could outrun the Harpies— I had before. I left the cabin and headed for the beach.

I spread my blanket near the surf and popped open the lid of one of the caramel flavored coffees. For some reason, a coffee always helped me think more clearly. It was something weird my brain had gotten used to. I tried to decide what to do to save the camp, but nothing came to me. I wished I could talk to my mother. She would've been able to make me break out of my spiral of despair.

The sky was clear and starry. I was looking up at the constellations that I recognized and naming them silently— Sagittarius, Hercules, Corona Borealis— when somebody said, "Beautiful, aren't they?"

I shot to my feet immediately, pressing the diamonds on my necklace and bracelet and summoning my swords.

Standing right next to me was a guy in nylon running shorts and a New York City Marathon T-shirt. He was slim and fit, with salt-and-pepper hair and a sly smile. 

"May I join you?" he asked. "I haven't sat down in ages."

Now, I know— a strange guy in the middle of the night. Common sense: I was supposed to run away, yell for help, etc. Or at least attack him. But the guy acted so calm about the whole thing that I found it hard to be worried. Besides, whatever he reminded me of was a good thing, that much I knew.

"Uh, sure," I shrugged.

He smiled. "Your hospitality does you credit. Oh, and coffee! May I?"

I shrugged again, not saying anything.

He sat at the other end of the blanket, popped open one of the other coffees, and took a drink. "Ah... that hits the spot. Peace and quiet at—"

A cell phone went off in his pocket.

The jogger sighed. He pulled out his phone and my eyes widened in shock, because it glowed with a bluish light. When he extended the antenna, two creatures began writhing around it— green snakes, no bigger than earthworms. 

The jogger didn't seem to notice. He checked his LCD display and cursed. "I've got to take this. Just a sec..." Then into the phone: "Hello?"

He listened. The mini-snakes writhed up and down the antenna right next to his ear. Then I remembered. I'd run into him before I left for the Hamptons. It was Hermes. Fuck.

"Yeah," he said. "Listen— I know, but... I don't care if he is chained to a rock with vultures pecking at his liver, if he doesn't have a tracking number, we can't locate his package... A gift to humankind, great... You know how many of those we deliver— Oh, never mind. Listen, just refer him to Eris in customer service. I gotta go."

He hung up. "Sorry. The overnight express business is just booming. Now, as I was saying—"

"You have snakes on your phone."

"What? Oh, they don't bite. Say hello, George and Martha."

"Hello, George and Martha," a raspy male voice said inside my head.

"Don't be sarcastic," said a female voice.

"Why not?" George demanded. "I do all the real work."

"Oh, let's not go into that again!" The jogger slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Now, where were we... Ah, yes. Peace and quiet." He crossed his ankles and stared up at the stars. "Been a long time since I've gotten to relax. Ever since the telegraph— rush, rush, rush. Do you have a favorite constellation, Allie?"

I was still kind of wondering about the little green snakes he'd shoved into his jogging shorts, as well as wondering whether or not he was going to kill me, but I answered anyway. "Uh, I like Hercules."

"Why?"

"Well... because he had shit luck. Even worse than mine, which almost seems impossible to me. It makes me feel better."

The jogger chuckled. "Not because he was strong and handsome and famous and all that?"

"No. People tell me I can get any guy I want, why go around liking the ones who are already dead? Seems pretty counterproductive. Plus... I'm not shallow. I'm not going to like a guy just because of his looks. That would only be an added bonus... Not to mention, I really don't want to end up with a famous guy. Being famous is stressful and awful as it is. Having another person by my side that just adds more light to the spotlight? I'd rather jump off a bridge."

"You're an interesting young lady, Allie. And so, what now?"

I knew immediately what he was asking. What did I intend to do about the Fleece?

Before I could answer, Martha the snake's muffled voice came from his pocket: "I have Demeter on line two."

"Not now," the jogger said. "Tell her to leave a message."

"She's not going to like that. The last time you put her off, all the flowers in the floral delivery division wilted."

"Just tell her I'm in a meeting!" The jogger rolled his eyes. "Sorry again, Allie. You were saying..."

"You're just bitter because Hermes likes me best." Martha's voice echoed in my head

"He does not!"

"Does too!"

"Behave, you two," Hermes warned, "or I'll set you on vibrate! Now, Allie, you still haven't answered my question. What do you intend to do about the quest?"

"I don't have permission to go. And I doubt I'll get it."

"No, indeed. Will that stop you?"

"No, indeed. I want to go. I have to save Grover."

Hermes smiled. "I knew a boy once... oh, younger than you by far. A mere baby, really."

"Here we go again," George said. "Always talking about himself."

"Quiet!" Martha snapped. "Do you want to get set on vibrate?"

Hermes ignored them. "One night, when this boy's mother wasn't watching, he sneaked out of their cave and stole some cattle that belonged to Apollo."

"Did he get blasted to tiny pieces?" I asked dryly, knowing what happens when you piss off gods.

"Hmm... no. Actually, everything turned out quite well. To make up for his theft, the boy gave Apollo an instrument he'd invented— a lyre. Apollo was so enchanted with the music that he forgot all about being angry."

"So what's the moral?"

"The moral?" Hermes asked. "Goodness, you act like it's a fable. It's a true story. Does truth have a moral?"

"Well if there's no moral, what's the point of telling it to me, then?"

"Fine," he sighed. "Let me think for a moment. How about this: stealing is not always bad?"

"I don't think my late mother or Chiron would like that moral. He was really annoyed about me having to bail the Stolls and Luke out of jail last winter after they got caught stealing that BMW in Jersey and then having to mystify the mortals to get it taken off of their records."

"Rats are delicious," suggested George.

"What does that have to do with the story?" Martha demanded.

"Nothing," George replied. "But I'm hungry."

"I've got it," Hermes said, snapping his fingers triumphantly. "Young people don't always do what they're told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes they escape punishment. How's that?"

"You're saying I should go anyway," I said, "even without permission." I supposed it would really piss off Tantalus, which was one of my then main goals in life.

Hermes's eyes twinkled, something I suspected happened every time he influenced mischief. He turned his cell phone into its regular form, a caduceus. "Martha, may I have the first package, please?"

Martha opened her mouth... and kept opening it until it was as wide as my arm. She belched out a stainless-steel canister— an old-fashioned lunch box thermos with a black plastic top. The sides of the thermos were enameled with red and yellow Ancient Greek scenes— a hero killing a lion; a hero lifting up Cerberus, the three-headed dog.

"That's Hercules," I said. "But—"

"Never question a gift," Hermes chided. "This is a collector's item from Hercules Busts Heads. The first season."

"I always question a gift. I'd rather not die from not doing so. But besides that; Hercules Busts Heads?"

"Great show." Hermes sighed. "Back before Hephaestus-TV was all reality programming. Of course, the thermos would be worth much more if I had the whole lunch box—"

"Or if it hadn't been in Martha's mouth," George added.

"I'll get you for that." Martha began chasing him around the caduceus.

"Wait a minute," I said, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "This is a gift?" That sounded very bad for me. Gods always had ulterior motives.

"One of two," Hermes said. "Go on, pick it up."

I almost dropped it because it was freezing cold on one side and burning hot on the other.

The weird thing was, when I turned the thermos, the side facing the ocean— north— was always the cold side...

"It's a compass!" I exclaimed.

Hermes looked surprised. "Very clever. I never thought of that. But its intended use is a bit more dramatic. Uncap it, and you will release the winds from the four corners of the earth to speed you on your way. Please, when the time comes, only unscrew the lid a tiny bit. The winds are a bit like me— always restless. Should all four escape at once... ah, but I'm sure you'll be careful."

He clearly didn't know me very well, because I was a lot of things, and 'careful' was not one that people usually used to describe me. The word 'careful' definitely wasn't mentioned on my IMDb or Wiki page.

"And now my second gift," Hermes continued. "George?"

"She's touching me," George complained as he and Martha slithered around the pole.

"She's always touching you," Hermes said. "You're intertwined. And if you don't stop that, you'll get knotted again!"

The snakes stopped wrestling.

George unhinged his jaw and coughed up a little plastic bottle filled with chewable vitamins.

"You're kidding," I said. "Are those Minotaur-shaped?"

Hermes picked up the bottle and rattled it. "The lemon ones, yes. The grape ones are Furies, I think. Or are they hydras? At any rate, these are potent. Don't take one unless you really, really need it."

"How will I know if I really, really need it?"

"You'll know, believe me. Nine essential vitamins, minerals, amino acids... oh, everything you need to feel yourself again. They don't expire, by the way, so it doesn't really matter how long you have them for. Cool feature those have, among others."

He tossed me the bottle.

"Um, thanks," I said. "But Lord Hermes, why are you helping me?"

"Athena told me to ask if you'll try and get through to Annabeth. She doesn't think you'll be able to, being the Daughter of Poseidon and all, but she wants you to try." 

I nodded stiffly. "Tell her I'll try."

He gave me a melancholy smile. "And can you do me a favor, Allie?"

"What's the favor?" I asked suspiciously. 

He stood. "Give my love to Luke," he replied.

I bit back my instinctive "can gods love?" and nodded silently, watching him through my eyelashes.

He brushed sand off his pants. "Now, I must be going."

"You have sixty calls to return," Martha said.

"And one thousand-thirty-eight e-mails," George added. "Not counting the offers for online discount ambrosia."

"And you, Allie," Hermes said, "have a shorter deadline than you realize to complete your quest. Your friends should be coming right about... now."

I heard Luke's voice calling my name from the sand dunes. Tyson, too, was shouting from a little bit farther away.

"I hope I packed well for you," Hermes said. "I do have some experience with travel."

"Naturally."

He snapped his fingers and three yellow duffel bags appeared at my feet. "Waterproof, of course. If you ask nicely, your father should be able to help you reach the ship. Sorry they aren't the designer bags you're used to."

"I'm not all that picky." Then I thought about what he said. I wasn't sure which word was more confusing. 'Father' or "Ship?"

Hermes pointed. Sure enough, a big cruise ship was cutting across Long Island Sound, its white-and-gold lights glowing against the dark water.

"Wait," I said. "I haven't even agreed to go!"

"I'd make up your mind in the next five minutes, if I were you," Hermes advised. "That's when the harpies will come to eat you. Now, goodnight, little cousin, and dare I say it? May the gods be with you."

He opened his hand and the caduceus flew into it.

"Good luck," Martha told me.

"Bring me back a rat," George said.

"I'll do my best," I agreed, still at a loss as to what had just happened.

The caduceus changed into a cell phone and Hermes slipped it into his pocket.

He jogged off down the beach. Twenty paces away, he shimmered and vanished, leaving me alone with a thermos, a bottle of chewable vitamins, and five minutes to make an impossible decision.

Fuck my life.

*    *    *

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#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

0.5 birds from hell

warnings : monster attack, injuries, chariot races, tantalus is a dick and a creep, cussing

word count : 4.0k

0.5 A Swarm of Aggressive Birds Interrupts Our Already Deadly Activity of Chariot Racing

The next few days were stressful, to say the least. Don't get me wrong, I loved Tyson. What I did not like, however, was people making fun of him and pissing me off when I was already freaked out about Camp and Grover. Thankfully, after I systematically sent nineteen kids to the infirmary within a week (under the guise of teaching swordsmanship classes), the looks and comments all stopped. I was banned from the chariot races for it by Tantalus, but I hadn't really cared about them anyway. After getting banned, he seemed to come to the conclusion that I'd do better as a cheerleader, so for the entirety of the races, I'd have to be stunting and tumbling, uniform, bow, makeup, and all.

Now, normally I wouldn't be mad about that. I was on the Columbia cheer team my Freshman year of college and I had recently gotten the news that I'd made the team again and practices would start near the end of August. However, my anger was fueled and I did not like getting used as entertainment for Tantalus. He made my blood boil and I knew he'd enjoy watching me in the air. 

From the start, my amazing friends never said a word against Tyson (at least where I could hear it). Instead, we all worried together over Grover and the Camp's respective predicaments. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything we could do, save organizing border patrols on the sly (Tantalus insisted that they weren't necessary, and wouldn't let official patrols be organized), so we tended to just get on with everything and pray to the gods for inspiration. That we were resorting to asking our non-responsive parents for help was a mark of how bad things had gotten.

I loathed being helpless, so I tried to keep my mind off my problems as much as I could.

Silena gave me my first riding lesson on a pegasus. She explained that there was only one immortal winged horse named Pegasus, who still wandered free somewhere in the skies, but over the eons he'd sired a lot of children, none quite so fast or heroic, but all named after the first and greatest.

Being the daughter of the sea god, I don't normally enjoy going into the skies. I fly whenever I have to for movies, premiers, photoshoots, tours, and such, but I had to specifically ask Zeus for permission before I could even do that. That didn't mean he didn't like to scare me every so often and would almost crash a plane I was on before letting me fly safely. Poseidon had this rivalry with Zeus, so it was very unusual that I'd gotten that special permission. But riding a winged horse felt different. I had always loved horses, and the pegasi didn't make me nearly as nervous as being on an airplane. Maybe that was because my dad had created horses out of sea foam, so the pegasi were sort of... neutral territory, I suppose.

I could understand their thoughts. I wasn't surprised when my pegasus went galloping over the treetops or chased a flock of seagulls into a cloud.

The problem was that Tyson wanted to ride the "chicken ponies," too, but the pegasi got skittish whenever he approached. I told them telepathically that Tyson wouldn't hurt them, but they didn't seem to believe me. That made Tyson cry.

The only person at camp who had no problem with Tyson was Beckendorf. The blacksmith god had always worked with Cyclopes in his forges, so Beckendorf took Tyson down to the armory to teach him metalworking. He said he'd have Tyson crafting magic items like a master in no time. I honest-to-the-gods threw my arms around him in a hug for his support. My other friends did their best, but their discomfort came across when they were around Tyson.

After lunch, I worked out in the arena with Clarisse and her siblings. Swordplay had always been my strength, from my first day there. And it had only improved over the past year. I'd gotten better at the other things, like archery and hand-to-hand, but swordplay, that's where I excelled. Riptide and Shaker were the best swords I'd ever used and dual-wielding them made me practically indestructible. Thank the gods I was ambidextrous. My hand-to-hand class had even gone better than usual. Clarisse said I was doing better than ever, but she still won. I wasn't surprised. 

Then, I scaled the climbing wall, in full earthquake-and-lava mode and went swimming with the Naiads. Despite what people think, they make excellent conversationalists. And I had border patrol in the evenings, of course. But nothing could break me from my melancholy mood.

And I was stressed enough to find myself on the verge of losing my temper with Tyson several times, despite reminding myself that he was just a child and couldn't help acting the way he did. It was hard to use that helpfully when I remembered that by the time I was six, I was already getting sexualized and was flying in airplanes across the world by myself to film movies. But still. I was an outlier— most people didn't deal with that and Tyson couldn't help that I'd had a fucked up childhood. 

I sat at the top of Half-Blood Hill and watched the dryads come and go, singing to the dying pine tree. Satyrs brought their reed pipes and played nature magic songs, and for a while, the pine needles seemed to get fuller. The flowers on the hill smelled a little sweeter and the grass looked greener. But as soon as the music stopped, the sickness crept back into the air. The whole hill seemed to be infected, dying from the poison that had sunk into the tree's roots. The longer I sat there, the angrier I got.

Annabeth and Cody had done this. I remembered Annabeth's sly smile, the blank expression Cody had worn before I collapsed in pain from the poison coursing through me. Luke had loved them both, and the whole time they'd been Kronos's top servants.

I opened the palm of my hand. The scar Annabeth's conjured scorpion had given me last summer was fading, but I could still see it, a white asterisk-shaped wound where it had stung me.

I thought about what Annabeth had told me right before she'd tried to kill me: 

Good-bye, Allie. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won't be part of it.

At night, I had more dreams of Grover. Sometimes, I just heard snatches of his voice. Once, I heard him say: It's here. Another time: He likes sheep.

I mentioned it to the others, but none of them knew what to think either. It could be actual dreams of Grover, but I could've also been going insane from the stress of everything.

But the night before the chariot race, I had the longest, most worrying dream yet.

In my dream, Grover was wearing a wedding dress.

It didn't fit him very well. The gown was too long and the hem was caked with dried mud. The neckline kept falling off his shoulders. A tattered veil covered his face. I'd quite literally modeled wedding dresses before (and also I just had a taste for all things fashion. Sue me, I guess), so Grover's 'outfit' made me wince in horror and disgust.

He was standing in a dank cave, lit only by torches. There was a cot in one corner and an old-fashioned loom in the other, a length of white cloth half woven on the frame. And he was staring right at me, like I was a TV program he'd been waiting for. "Thank the gods!" he yelped. "Can you hear me?"

My dream-self was slow to respond. I was still looking around, taking in the stalactite ceiling, the stench of sheep and goats, the growling and grumbling and bleating sounds that seemed to echo from behind a refrigerator-sized boulder, which was blocking the room's only exit, as if there were a much larger cavern beyond it.

"Allie?" Grover said, his voice pleading. "Please, I don't have the strength to project any better. You have to hear me!"

"I hear you," I assured him. "Grover, what's going on?"

From behind the boulder, a monstrous voice yelled, "Honeypie! Are you done yet?"

Grover flinched. He called out in falsetto, "Not quite, dearest! A few more days!"

I'm not sure which horrified me the most. The nickname 'honeypie', or the terror on Grover's face. No, actually, it was the nickname. Grover was terrified of everything, from enchilada day being canceled to staring down the Lord of the Underworld.

"Bah!" the voice roared. "Hasn't it been two weeks yet?"

"N-no, dearest," Grover claimed. "Just five days. That still leaves twelve more to go."

The monster was silent, maybe trying to do the math. He must've been horrible at arithmetic because he said, "All right, but hurry! I want to SEEEEE under that veil, heh-heh-heh."

Grover turned back to me. "You have to help me! No time! I'm stuck in this cave. On an island in the sea."

"Where?" I demanded, trying to figure out how many islands there were to search around Florida. The answer: too fucking many.

"I don't know exactly! I went to Florida and turned left."

"What? How the hell—"

"It's a trap!" Grover interrupted me urgently. "It's the reason no satyr has ever returned from this quest. He's a shepherd, Allie! And he has it. Its nature magic is so powerful it smells just like the great god Pan! The satyrs come here thinking they've found Pan, and they get trapped and eaten by Polyphemus!"

"Poly-who?" The name was familiar, but my brain felt like sludge. I guessed it was because I was asleep.

"The Cyclops!" Grover said, exasperated. "I almost got away. I made it all the way to St. Augustine." 

"But he followed you," I finished, remembering my first dream. "And trapped you in a bridal boutique."

"That's right," Grover said. "My first empathy link must've worked then. Look, this bridal dress is the only thing keeping me alive. He thinks I smell good, but I told him it was just goat-scented perfume. Thank goodness he can't see very well. His eye is still half-blind from the last time somebody poked it out. But soon he'll realize what I am. He's only giving me two weeks to finish the bridal train, and he's getting impatient!"

"Wait a minute. This Cyclops thinks you're—"

"Yes!" Grover wailed. "He thinks I'm a lady Cyclops and he wants to marry me!"

Under different circumstances, I might've burst out laughing, but Grover's voice was deadly serious. He was shaking with fear.

"I'll come rescue you," I promised. "Where are you?"

"The Sea of Monsters, of course!"

"The sea of what?"

"I told you! I don't know exactly where! And look, Allie... urn, I'm really sorry about this, but this empathy link... well, I had no choice. Our emotions are connected now. If I die..."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, lemme guess." Dream me stuck her arms out for further emphasis. "I'll die too."

"Oh, well, maybe not. You might live for years in a vegetative state. But, uh, it would be a lot better if you got me out of here."

"Honeypie!" the monster bellowed. "Dinnertime! Yummy, yummy sheep meat!"

Grover whimpered. "I have to go. Hurry!"

"Wait! You said 'it' was here. What?"

But Grover's voice was already growing fainter. "Sweet dreams. Don't let me die!"

The dream faded and I woke up with a start. It was early morning. Tyson was staring down at me, his one big brown eye full of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

His voice sent a chill down my back because he sounded almost exactly like the monster I'd heard in my dream.

The morning of the race was hot and humid. Fog lay low on the ground like sauna steam. It was awful, considering I already had to be in the air and flying by the time everyone was seated. Turns out, a few other campters were also cheerleaders, so after a few minutes of basic skills, we were able to perform much harder stunts.

"This shit sucks," Blakely, one of my bases, said. Her black hair was wound up tight into a ponytail, like mine. Though, while her hair was needle straight, mine was made up of my natural curls that were unreasonably hard to tame sometimes. 

"Don't we know it," Austin replied, squatting down for his job as my other base. 

"At least Allie's light," Mitchell, the backspot, commented, before throwing me up in the air for Blakely and Austin to catch. 

"You're welcome," I said, rolling my eyes and pulling a needle. Then, something caught my eye. 

Millions of birds were roosting in the trees, fat gray-and-white pigeons, except they didn't coo like regular pigeons. They made this annoying metallic screeching sound that reminded me of submarine radar.

The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods.

Hephaestus' cabin had used the bronze bulls, which were completely tame since they'd had their heads smashed in, to plow an oval track in a matter of minutes.

There were rows of stone steps for the spectators, Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads, and all of the campers who weren't participating. Mr. D didn't show. He never got up before ten o'clock, and that was on a good day.

"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke, his right hand chased a chocolate eclair across the judge's table.

It gave me a vicious sense of pleasure to see that he was suffering. He deserved it for taking Chiron's place. No, his job. Nothing and no one could ever take Chiron's place.

"You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled at us like we were all naughty children. I resisted the urge to punch him in his skeletal face. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!"

Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track. They had an awesome chariot made of bronze and iron, even the horses, which were magical automatons like the Colchis bulls. I had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than my fully loaded Ferrari.

The Ares chariot was blood red and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons. Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops, and a bunch of other nasty toys. I pitied the charioteers who got in her way.

Apollo's chariot was trim and graceful and completely gold, pulled by two beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he had promised not to shoot regular pointed arrows at the opposing drivers.

Hermes' chariot was green and kind of old-looking, as if it hadn't been out of the garage in years. It didn't look like anything special, but it was manned by Luke and the Stoll brothers, and I shuddered to think what dirty tricks they'd schemed up together for the race.

The last one was the Athena cabin's chariot, which was aerodynamic, elegant, and driven by Malcolm and his sister Whitney.

Before the race started, I managed to sneak away from my stunt group in order to give us a break and so I could drag Luke aside to tell him about my dream. His expression of alarm probably matched my own.

"I wonder if," he mumbled to himself. "No, it's too much of a coincidence. I'm grasping at straws."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, leaning in.

He ran a hand through his hair tensely. "Allie, I want to save Grover too, but we need more info. We don't even know where to find him, for Hermes' sake."

"We could consult the Oracle," I suggested, deadly serious. Luke's eyes widened. The nightmares of my last visit to the Oracle of Delphi had only stopped about four months ago. Luke knew that only pure desperation would drive me to suggest going to see it again.

Before he could answer, the conch horn sounded.

"Charioteers!" Tantalus called. "To your mark! Pretty Alliiiie, why are you not in the air?"

"We'll talk later," Luke told me, glaring at Tantalus. "After I win."

As I was walking back to my stunt group, I noticed how many more pigeons were in the trees now, screeching like crazy, making the whole forest rustle. Nobody else seemed to be paying them much attention, but they made me nervous. Their beaks glinted strangely. Their eyes seemed shinier than regular birds. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and unease crawled up my spine. I made sure my jewelry was still on, a big no-no for stunting (but with the uneasiness I felt at that moment, I didn't really care), and then went into a double up.

As the chariots lined up, more shiny-eyed pigeons gathered in the woods. They were screeching so loudly that the other campers in the stands were starting to take notice, glancing nervously at the trees, which shivered under the weight of the birds. Tantalus didn't look concerned, but he did have to speak up to be heard over the noise.

"Charioteers!" he shouted. "Attend your mark!"

He waved his hand and the starting signal dropped. The chariots roared to life. Hooves thundered against the dirt. The crowd cheered, though I stayed quiet, my gaze going continuously to the birds in the trees and concentrating on not falling. The lack of patrols preyed in the back of my mind.

Almost immediately there was a loud nasty crack! I looked back in time to see the Apollo chariot flip over. The Hermes chariot had rammed into it, maybe by mistake, maybe not. The riders were thrown free, but their panicked horses dragged the golden chariot diagonally across the track.

Luke, Travis, and Connor were laughing at their good luck, but not for long. The Apollo horses crashed into theirs, and the Hermes chariot flipped too, leaving a pile of broken wood and four rearing horses in the dust. The only thing that kept me from laughing was being in the air.

Two chariots down in the first twenty feet. I loved this sport. And Luke's ego had no doubt taken a severe bashing, which it seriously needed. Another round of cawing ripped the smile from my face and I again looked back at the birds.

The yelling was so loud that it was hard to hear anything, but Tyson pointed toward the woods and I saw what he was worried about. The pigeons had risen from the trees. They were spiraling like a huge tornado, heading toward the track. My heart sank, and I reached to pull my necklace from my neck. Still in the hands of Blakely, Austin, and Mitchell, my sword appeared in my hands just in time to save me from losing an eye to the birds.

The damn things were swarming, thousands of them dive-bombing the stands and I could see them attacking the chariots as well. Beckendorf was mobbed. His fighter tried to bat the birds away but he couldn't see anything. The chariot veered off course and plowed through the strawberry fields, the mechanical horses steaming.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Clarisse barking an order to her fighter, who quickly threw a screen of camouflage netting over their basket. The birds swarmed around it, pecking and clawing at the fighter's hands as he tried to hold up the net, but Clarisse just gritted her teeth and kept driving. Her skeletal horses seemed immune to the distraction. The pigeons pecked uselessly at their empty eye sockets and flew through their rib cages, but the stallions kept right on running.

The spectators beside me weren't so lucky. The birds were slashing at any bit of exposed flesh, driving everyone into a panic. I was quickly put back on the ground, where the four of us fought off the birds that came near us, but we couldn't get any closer due to the fear of killing someone in the stands. 

If I had still been dumb enough to think so before seeing them up close, one look would have proven that these weren't normal birds.

Their eyes were beady and evil-looking. Their beaks were made of bronze, and I speak from bitter experience when I say that they were razor-sharp.

"Stymphalian birds!" I heard Katie yell. "They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away!"

I simply nodded, ducking another claw and jabbing a wing with Riptide. A second later, I thought that I heard someone calling "Heroes, to arms!" but with the dissonance, I couldn't be sure that it wasn't just my imagination.

Somehow, I ended up beside Luke, who had arrived near the stands and was hacking at the birds with his sword. 

The Athena campers were calling for shields. The archers from Apollo's cabin brought out their bows and arrows, ready to slay the menaces, but with so many campers mixed in with the birds, it wasn't safe to shoot.

"Too many!" I yelled to Luke. "How do you get rid of them?" I knew Hercules had defeated them, but I couldn't remember the details.

He stabbed at a pigeon with his sword. "Hercules used noise! Brass bells! He scared them away with the most horrible sound he could—" His eyes got wide. "Allie... Chiron's collection!"

I understood instantly. That shit really was awful. "You think it'll work?"

"Come on!" He pulled the arm that was unarmed (seeing as it was dangerous enough to use one sword, let alone my other) and dragged me behind him.

Clarisse had just pulled across the finish line, completely unopposed, and seemed to notice for the first time how serious the bird problem was.

I mentally urged myself to run faster. We sprinted the whole way there and Luke and I basically skidded inside, tearing down the hallway to Chiron's apartment.

His boombox was still on his nightstand. So were his favorite CDs. I grabbed the most revolting one I could find, Luke snatched the boombox, and together we ran back outside.

Down at the track, the chariots were in flames. Wounded campers ran in every direction, with birds shredding their clothes and pulling out their hair, while Tantalus chased breakfast pastries around the stands, every once in a while yelling, "Everything's under control! Don't worry." I mentally prayed to the gods that one of the birds would carry him off as we ran up to the finish line. Luke got the boombox ready. Then I started praying the batteries weren't dead.

I pressed PLAY and started up Chiron's favorite, the All-Time Greatest Hits of Dean Martin (Even the best of people have their flaws, I guess).

Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.

The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.

"Now!" shouted Luke. "Archers!" Someone shoved a bow and a few arrows into my hands. I looked over and saw Silena, who'd been in Archery before the chariot races and grabbed them just in case. 

With clear targets, Apollo's archers had flawless aim and I wasn't much worse. Most of us could nock five or six arrows at once. Within minutes and a few shouts for more arrows, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beaked pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon. I let out a sigh of relief, slumping as the adrenaline left me. Then I looked around to survey the damage grimly.

The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite's cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes destroyed beyond repair. Worst of all, Tantalus seemed fine. As I had long suspected, my namesake, Astraea the goddess of innocence and justice, hated me dearly.

"Bravo!" Tantalus said. "We have our first winner!"

He walked to the finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse.

Then he turned and smiled at me. "And now to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race."

Oh, he was going to suffer. So much.

*    *    *

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