An Impossible Choice|| Lani Jackson Book 2|| Piper McLean

Welcome to New Rome

Annabeth

Until I met the exploding statue, I thought I was prepared for anything.

I'd paced the deck of our flying warship, the Argo II, checking and double-checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. I confirmed the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast. I reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew- and the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan.

Most important, I pulled aside our war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing we needed as we flew a Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die!"

Everything seemed to be in order. Even that mysterious chill I'd been feeling since the ship launched had dissipated, at least for now.

The warship descended through the clouds, but I couldn't stop second guessing myself. What if this was a bad idea? What if the Romans panicked and attacked us on sight?

The Argo II definitely did not look friendly. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive powerful bolts through concrete... well, it wasn't the most appropriate ride for a meet-and-greet with the neighbors.

I had tried to give the Romans a heads-up. I'd asked Leo to send one of his special inventions- a holographic scroll- to alert our friends inside the camp. Hopefully the message had gotten through. Leo wanted to paint a giant message on the bottom of the hull- WASSUP? with a smiley face- but I vetoed the idea. I wasn't sure the Romans had a sense of humor.

Too late to turn back now.

The clouds broke around our hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below us. I gripped one of the bronze shields that lined the starboard rail.

My three crewmates took their places.

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would've been satisfied with a pilot's wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD.

Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines.

"Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk."

Her charmspeak was so powerful, the words flowed over me, filling me with the desire to drop my dagger and have a nice long chat.

For a child of Aphrodite, Piper tried hard to play down her beauty. Today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink Hello Kitty designs. (Maybe as a joke, though I could never be sure with Piper.) Her choppy brown hair was braided down the right side.

Then there was Jason. He stood at the bow on the raised crossbow platform, where the Romans could easily spot him. His knuckles were white on the hilt of his golden sword. Otherwise he looked calm for a guy who was making himself a target. Over his jeans and orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he'd donned a toga and a purple cloak- symbols of his old rank as praetor. With his wind-ruffled blond hair and his icy blue eyes, he looked ruggedly handsome and in control- just like a son of Jupiter should. He'd grown up at Camp Jupiter, so hopefully his familiar face would make the Romans hesitant to blow the ship out of the sky.