{1} 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐘𝐄 | p.jackson

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯

| chapter eleven |
in which they're screwed

"NIA, WAKE UP."

Saltwater splashed her face. Nia blinked her eyes open. Annabeth and Percy were both crouching in front of her, shaking her shoulders.

In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. A beachside highway lined with palm trees was right in Nia's sight, with storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"Miami," Annabeth clarified. "But the hippocampi are acting funny."

Looking over, Nia saw the hippocampus whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look too happy.

"This is as far as they'll take us," Percy suddenly said. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

No one was too psyched about that, but they all thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson even cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift paddle 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 had disappeared into the sea, they all waded back to the mortal world. They wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through the crowds of people arriving for their vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage; taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. No one even seemed to notice them.

Now that they were in the mortal world, Tyson's eye had been blurred by the mist; Grover put on his cap and sneakers; and the Fleece was now a red and gold high school letter jacket.