Wild ― Piper McLean

―xxv. a goddess with a ghost's face

BY THE TIME VERONA REACHED THE FORUM, chaos had taken over. Verona ran so hard her lungs felt like rocks in her chest, shoving through pockets of the mob of angry legionnaires that had formed. She frantically scanned the forum, searching for any of her friends' faces.

She couldn't find them.

She looked toward the warship, still firing flaming spears into New Rome—the city that was supposed to be safe, never a target of war.

If one of them hit Hector's house, if Auggie died now because Verona had brought this upon them—

How could she ever forgive herself?

"Verona!"

Her head snapped in the direction of her name, spotting Annabeth and her boyfriend at the rope ladder to the ship.

Verona sprinted through the crowd like Mercury himself was chasing her, dodging fuming Romans like stray tree branches.

The only reason she even made it to the ladder was thanks to the dragon—a living, (fire) breathing creature right out of baby Verona's wildest dreams.

"Is that a fucking dragon?" she demanded as she reached the bottom of the ladder.

"That's Frank," Percy said from higher up on the ladder.

"You named your dragon Frank?!"

"What? No, that's—"

"Keep climbing!" Annabeth shouted.

Somehow, the three of them made it up the ladder without getting shot by an arrow or hit by any other projectile.

The deck was another kind of chaos. The rigging was on fire. The foresail was ripped down the middle, and the ship listed badly to starboard.

There was no sign of Coach Hedge, but Leo stood amidships, calmly reloading the ballista.

Verona's heart dropped in horror.

"Leo!" she screamed. "Stop! What are you doing?"

"Destroy them..." He turned to face her. His eyes were glazed. His movements were like a robot's. "Destroy them all."

He turned back to the ballista, but Percy tackled him. Leo's head hit the deck hard, and his eyes rolled up so that only the whites showed.

The gray dragon soared into view. It circled the ship once and landed at the bow, depositing Jason and Piper, who both collapsed.

Verona raced for them as Annabeth got them moving.

Piper was sitting up as Verona reached them, but Jason didn't move. Verona slid like she was coming in from a homerun, landing gracelessly next to Piper and Jason's seemingly unconscious body.

"What happened to him?" Verona asked, eyes landing on the visible welt on his forehead.

"Brick," Piper answered through heavy breaths.

"A brick?" Verona repeated. She looked at her girlfriend, scanning her for visible injury. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Piper threw her arms around her, trembling. "I didn't know where you were—I thought—"

"I'm—I'm okay," Verona reassured her, wrapping her arms around her. "I'm okay."

She was likely an official enemy of Rome, a traitor to her old home, and drowning in survivor's guilt, but—she was okay.

She wondered how long it would last. 

🌿

"One more time," Annabeth said. "Exactly what happened?"