This Cold Year ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase²

―vii. watering the ancient stones

NAOMI WAS SCARED. 

She was human enough to admit it. She was human enough to admit that she was terrified—for herself, for her partners, for her friends. She was terrified for Nico and Reyna and Hedge, for the Pattersons, for Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood. She was terrified that the world would end today, and all their fighting—all their sacrifice—would be worthless. 

She got ready alone in her cabin, because alone she didn't have to pretend she wasn't already crying. She didn't have to put on a brave face for anyone, not even herself. She could just take a moment and be scared. 

And when that moment was over, like too many times before, she'd march into battle for the gods and pray to those same divine beings that she made it out alive. 

She pulled on her leggings, her t-shirt, her sneakers. She braided her hair into two plaits, wishing Drew were there to do it for her, if only so they could say goodbye—just in case. She pinned her defunct praetor medal to her chest and hoped the Pattersons would be okay. She slid Asphodel onto her left hand and prayed Nico would survive; she slid Hemlock onto her right and prayed Camp Half-Blood wouldn't be burned to the ground. She tied her shoes and pulled on her breastplate. 

She dressed for battle, unsure if it would be her last. 

When she emerged from her cabin, Annabeth was stepping out of hers. They waited for Percy, who was only seconds behind, and headed for the stairs. 

"Um... Annabeth?" Piper called from the deck. 

Annabeth, Percy, and Naomi came to her side, following Piper's startled gaze. 

"Oh, great," Percy said. "Dracaenae."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes. "I don't think so. At least not like any I've seen. Dracaenae have two serpent trunks for legs. These guys just have one." 

"Yeah," Naomi agreed. "These look more human on top. Not all scaly and green."

"So... do we talk or fight?" Percy asked. 

Naomi looked at the group of snake people. The one in the lead held his head high, his face chiseled and bronze, eyes and hair black. His upper body was rippled with muscles, covered only by a Greek chlamys—a white wool cloak loosely wrapped and pinned at the shoulder. From the waist down, his body was one giant serpent trunk—about eight feet of green tail undulating behind him as he moved. 

In one hand he carried a staff topped with a glowing green jewel. In his other, he carried a platter covered with a silver dome, like a main course for a fancy dinner. 

The two guys behind him appeared to be guards. They wore bronze breastplates and elaborate helmets topped with horsehair bristles. Their spears were tipped with green stone points. Their oval shields were emblazoned with a large Greek letter K—kappa.

They stopped a few yards from the Argo II. The leader looked up and studied the demigods. His expression was intense but inscrutable. He might have been angry or worried or in desperate need of a restroom. 

"Permission to come aboard," the leader said, his voice raspy. 

"Who are you?" Piper asked. 

He fixed his dark eyes on her. "I am Kekrops, the first and eternal king of Athens. I would welcome you to my city." He held up the covered platter. "Also, I brought a Bundt cake." 

Piper glanced at her friends. "A trick?"

"Probably," Annabeth said. 

Naomi sighed. "I'd be surprised if it wasn't."