SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

94 - mean statues

AFTER THEIR ENCOUNTER with Kymopo-what's-her-name, the Argo II limped through the Aegean, too damaged to fly, too slow to outrun monsters. They fought hungry sea serpents about every hour. They attracted schools of curious fish. At one point they got stuck on a rock, and Percy and Jason had to get out and push.

Over the course of three long days, Leo finally got the ship more or less back to working order just as they made port at the island of Mykonos, which probably meant it was time for them to get bashed to pieces again.

Percy and Annabeth went ashore to scout. Briar spent her time talking to Jason and Reyna, like she'd usually done these past few days.

"I don't know what to tell you," Briar said, nestling into Reyna's embrace more. "The flower just adds a little to my look."

"You despise bees," Jason said, staring off at the distance, where Leo was working on some maintenance. "If I have to hear you screaming about them one more time—"

"But the aesthetic!" Briar argued, looking up at her girlfriend. "Tell me I'm right."

Reyna had this fond little smile on her face that Briar just adored. "You do look very pretty," she agreed.

"See?" Briar smirked, tilting her head up to kiss Reyna's jaw. "I'm always right."

"No you're not," a new voice arrived, and Briar looked over to see Annabeth holding gelato out to her and Reyna.

"I was totally right in Sparta," Briar huffed, but she took both hers and Reyna's gelato and handed it to her.

The whole crew sat on deck, without a storm or a monster attack to worry about for the first time in days, and ate ice cream. Well, except for Frank, who was lactose intolerant. He got an apple.

The day was hot and windy. The sea glittered with chop. Curving off to their starboard side was the town of Mykonos – a collection of white stucco buildings with blue roofs, blue windows and blue doors.

"We saw these pelicans walking around town," Percy reported. "Like, just going through the shops, stopping at the bars."

Hazel frowned. "Monsters in disguise?"

"No," Annabeth said, laughing, "just regular old pelicans. They're the town mascots or something. And there's a 'Little Italy' section of town. That's why the gelato is so good."

"Europe is messed up." Leo shook his head. "First we go to Rome for Spanish steps. Then we go to Greece for Italian ice cream."

Briar ate her strawberry and vanilla gelato and tried to imagine that she and her friends were just chilling on a vacation. It was 30 July. Less than forty-eight hours until August 1st, when Gaia, the Princess of Potty Sludge, would awaken in all her dirt-faced glory.

The closer they got to 1 August, the more upbeat the crew acted. Or maybe upbeat wasn't the right word. They seemed to be pulling together for the final lap – aware that the next two days would make or break them. There was no point moping around when you faced imminent death. The end of the world made gelato taste a lot better.

So, of course, Briar followed their example and acted upbeat. She had to. Even with her mother's words echoing in her mind about saying the right words and shit.

Speaking of goddesses, she set down her ice cream cup and clapped her hands. "So! The island of Delos is right across the harbor. Diana and Apollo's home turf. Who's going?"

"Me," Leo said immediately.

Everybody stared at him.

"What?' Leo demanded. "I'm diplomatic and stuff. Frank and Hazel volunteered to back me up."