SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

55 - pensive thoughts

KEEP IT SIMPLE? Please. Briar loved to complicate things.

That was why she was spending so much time on her makeup today, because she needed something to distract her from a nightmare she'd had.

She'd had so many nightmares while on this trip, it was a miracle that she was still functioning. But she'd taken an extra nap somehow, and it wasn't even that late in the morning. She'd done her hair, putting a bow in it, and changed into a light pink dress that matched her bow. She was just finishing up her makeup, drawing angel wings on her eyes and humming a song about angel babies when her door opened.

"I'd be mad, but I guess you're on theme for finding a ghost."

Briar jumped, and her lipstick went off her face. "Oh, fuck me," she muttered, wiping it away, though she looked over to make eye contact with Annabeth. "What time is it?"

"It's time to go," Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Want something to eat?"

Briar's stomach wanted to grumble, but it didn't. She knew it was the unmistakable sense of nausea that she'd been feeling ever since the start of this quest. "I'm good," she stood up, grabbing Katoptris and Mars's knife, which glowed white, as if responding that Briar was just like it. Angelic. Dangerous. A loose cannon. "Let's go ghost hunting."

At first, the girls had a pretty good time walking along the Battery. According to the signs, the seaside park was called White Point Gardens. The ocean breeze swept away the muggy heat of the summer afternoon, and it was pleasantly cool under the shade of the palmetto trees. Lining the road were old Civil War cannons and bronze statues of historical figures.

Charleston Harbor glittered in the sun. To the north and south, strips of land stretched out like arms enclosing the bay, and sitting in the mouth of the harbor, about a mile out, was an island with a stone fort.

Places like this were where Briar felt the most at home. She stared at the waves, wishing she could put her feet in them. She hummed the song she was singing earlier under her breath, because it felt like a day for humming. She skipped to the gardens and picked a pretty flower for herself, tucking it behind her ear and hoping that no bees would come. She hated those menaces.

The park wasn't crowded, otherwise someone would've told her off for picking the flower. Briar imagined that most of the locals had gone on summer vacation, or were holed up at home taking a siesta. They strolled along South Battery Street, which was lined with four-story Colonial mansions. The brick walls were blanketed with ivy. The facades had soaring white columns like Roman temples. The front gardens were bursting with rosebushes, honeysuckle, and flowering bougainvillea. It looked like Ceres had set the timer on all the plants to grow several decades ago, then forgotten to come back and check on them.

"Kind of reminds me of New Rome," Hazel said. "All the big mansions and the gardens. The columns and arches."

Briar hummed in acknowledgement, feeling a twinge of homesickness. She missed New Rome with every part of her, even if she'd completely fucked up her relationships with the people who bound her there the most. She'd only been home for a few hours before disaster struck and she'd had to escape in the Argo II.

She mentally shook her head at herself. Stop thinking about that, she told herself. She'd seen herself in her nightmare last night destroying New Rome, with a voice in her head that she'd heard before telling her, you have the power to destroy, Briar Lovelace.

She shuddered, wishing she had a jacket around her to wrap tighter around herself. She hadn't put on Reyna's jacket that she always kept with her, mostly because she'd just forgotten today. She almost wished she had, because now she couldn't even hold Reyna's hand because of the rift between them.