╔════⁎⋯☽✧✦✧☾⋯⁎ ════╗
Chapter 6
Percy Proves his Bloodline
Volume 1: The Lightning Thief
╚════⁎⋯☽✧✦✧☾⋯⁎════╝
It was bad that night. They had to sleep in the woods, a hundred yards from the main road, in a marshy cleaning full of flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers. Whenever Pat touched the slightly wet ground, he scrunched up his nose and let out a small whine of a complaint.
They had food and blankets from Medusa, but it was cold. Still, they wouldn't risk a fire after two monster attacks in one day. Upsides to being blind meant Pat got out of sleeping in shifts -- he wouldn't be any good at guard (at least, they assumed he couldn't, though Pat thought his hearing might have been useful. Of course, he would never mention that when he was so tired.) so he was allowed to sleep through the night soundly.
Annabeth, Pat, and Pallas curled up with their blankets together. It was warmest if they huddled. Percy had volunteered the first watch, and Grover sat with him for long enough that Pat passed out before Grover slept. In between Annabeth and Pat, Pallas curled into a ball and rolled around all night -- he was terrified of the dark.
Breakfast was corn chips from the snack bar, and Grover vanished into the woods only to return with a dog. According to the others, it was a pink poodle. Pat had thought it was a cruel joke at first, but Pallas assured him the poodle was truly pink.
Percy woke up late, and the poodle yapped at him suspiciously. Grover said, "No, he's not."
Apparently, Percy wasn't aware of basic satyr facts, as he asked, "Are you...talking to that thing?"
The poodle growled. "This thing," Grover warned, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him."
"You can talk to animals?"
Grover ignored the question. "Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy."
"I'm not saying hello to a pink poodle," Percy said. "Forget it."
"Percy," Annabeth said. "I said hello to the poodle. Those two said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."
The poodle growled. He said hello to the poodle.
Grover explained that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola didn't really want to go back to his family, but he was willing to if it meant helping Grover.
"How does Gladiola know about the reward?" Percy asked.
"He read the signs," Grover said. "Duh."
"Of course," Percy droned. "Silly me."
"So we turn in Gladiola," Annabeth explained in her best strategy voice, "we get money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."
"Not another bus," Percy said warily.
"No," Annabeth agreed.
"May I hold Gladiola?" Pat asked, hands outstretched.
The poodle barked, and Grover said, "Rub behind his ears."
Gladiola climbed into his lap and Pat obliged. He felt Percy's incredulous stare, so he politely explained, "I always wanted a service dog, but my step-brother's allergic."
"Can we focus?" Annabeth asked, "There's an Amtrak station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the westbound train leaves at noon."
The views on the Amtrak were nice, according to Pallas. Heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain. They spent two days of their precious time on the Amtrak train. No one attacked them during that time, but Pat could tell no one had relaxed.
YOU ARE READING
Prophesied Powder, PJO
Fanfiction(Atropos cuts the threads of Human Fate.) Pat was destined for something great. Apollo himself had said it. The only issue is, no one knows what he's meant to do or how he's involved in the so-called Great Prophecy. Percy is the only son of Posideon...
