Jace Irons: The Shard of Chaos

Chapter Fourteen: Ancient History 101

It took me a second to remember my name.

"Jace... Jace Irons," I stammered.

"Hm," she remarked indifferently. She turned around to look at the other figure.

"Phillip!" she called out. "Is that one alright?"

The other figure, I'm guessing Phillip, was helping David off the ground. He just gave a thumbs-up sign.

The girl, I had already forgotten her name, turned back to me. "How did you run into those monsters?" she asked.

"Uh... we were in a field earlier and th-they passed us, we ran here and, and they tracked us down with their hellhound." I managed to say.

"How many were there?" she demanded. She asked every question like it was an interrogation, like she was super suspicious of me. I thought it was weird, she and the other guy, Philip had just rescued David and I from certain death, and she was asking me all the questions.

"Uhm," I stammered, struggling to remember. It was like having to answer test questions during a prison riot. "There were seven dracenae, the hellhound, and another guy."

"Another guy," she repeated. "Where is he?" she asked urgently.

"Knocked him out right over there," I said pointing over her shoulder. However, when I looked where I was pointing, there was no one on the ground. Almost as if on cue, the engine of the white van I had knocked him out by roared to life and tore out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

"Mierda!" she yelled.

I saw the other guy, Phillip, scramble forward and pick up one of the fallen dracenae's bows. He nocked an arrow and aimed at the box van, now speeding down the road away from us. He let the arrow fly. It sailed through the air, catching up to the van, heading right for the driver's side window. His aim was just slightly off, and the arrow smashed the rear view mirror off the side of the van as it sped down the road and out of sight.

The guy just dropped the bow on the ground and he and David continued walking over to where the girl and I were standing.

The girl turned back towards me. The nectar had helped heal my wound, because I could see her clearer now. She was definitely dressed for battle. She wore an engraved golden chestplate and a brown leather battle skirt, golden greaves on her shins and leather guards on her forearms.She was holding a leaf-shaped gold sword in one hand and tucked under the other arm was a golden helmet with a red horsehair plume on top. A long, purple cloak hung from the back of her shoulders, almost touching the ground. Reyna, I remembered her name just then, looked strong and in charge, and I knew just from the look she was giving me alone that she was a warrior. I wondered how someone who looked so tough could be so pretty.

Phillip walked up beside Reyna, facing me. David followed close behind, walking around them to stand beside me.

I took a look at Phillip. He was dressed the same as Reyna, except he wore jeans under his battle kilt, and he didn't have a purple cloak. He took off his helmet to reveal a face like a slab of concrete. He had short, black hair, cut into a military wedge, spiked in the front. Two swords hung sheathed on each of his hips.

They looked at David and I up and down. "Called it," grumbled Phillip.

"But can we trust them?" asked Reyna suspiciously. They appeared to talking to each other.

"Umm, what?" asked David hoarsley. I noticed he was holding his side and had a new bruise above his left eye.

Phillip pointed to our orange Camp Half-Blood shirts. "You guys are Greek." he said.