SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

97 - uh oh stinky

FROM THE PORT to the Acropolis, Briar didn't see anything of Athens except dark, putrid tunnels. The snake men led them through an iron storm grate at the docks, straight into their underground lair, which smelled of rotting fish, mold and snakeskin.

The atmosphere made it hard to sing about positive things, but Briar kept singing Taylor Swift songs. Mainly Love Story, because if she wasn't a fan of Romeo and Juliet, then she wasn't Briar Lovelace.

If she stopped for longer than a minute or two, Kekrops and his guards started hissing and looking angry.

"I don't like this place," Annabeth murmured. "Reminds me of when I was underneath Rome."

Kekrops hissed with laughter. "Our domain is much older. Much, much older."

Annabeth slipped her hand into Percy's, which made Briar feel lonely. She wished Reyna were with her. She'd settle for Jason or Leo, though she wouldn't have held Leo's hand. Arson was something that Briar could allow, but not when it burned her.

Briar's voice echoed through the tunnels. As they travelled further into the lair, more snake people gathered to hear her. Soon they had a procession following behind them – dozens of gemini all swaying and slithering.

This seriously reminded her of a quest she and Jason had done in the past — when she'd jokingly said that she could get a cult of people to follow them. Turns out she was using charmspeak and then she'd actually gotten a giant group of people to follow them around. Jason was still scarred from that.

Speaking of Jason and Leo, the vial of physician's cure was still wrapped in its chamois cloth in her pocket. She hadn't had time to consult with them before she left. She just had to hope they would all be reunited on the hilltop before anyone needed the cure. If one of them died and she couldn't reach them . . .

Just keep singing, she told herself.

They passed through crude stone chambers littered with bones. They climbed slopes so steep and slippery it was nearly impossible to keep their footing. At one point, they passed a warm cave the size of a gymnasium filled with snake eggs, their tops covered with a layer of silver filaments like slimy Christmas tinsel.

More and more snake people joined their procession. Slithering behind her, they sounded like an army of football players shuffling with sandpaper on their cleats.

Briar wondered how many gemini lived down here. Hundreds, maybe thousands.

She thought she heard her own heartbeat echoing through the corridors, getting louder and louder the deeper they went. Then she realized the persistent boom ba-boom was all around them, resonating through the stone and the air.

I wake. A woman's voice, as clear as Briar's voice.

Annabeth froze. "Oh, that's not good."

"It's like Tartarus," Percy said, his voice edgy. "You remember . . . his heartbeat. When he appeared –"

"Don't," Annabeth said. "Just don't."

"Sorry." In the light of his sword, Percy's face was like a large firefly – a hovering, momentary smudge of brightness in the dark.

The voice of Gaia spoke again, louder: At last.

Briar's singing wavered.

Fear washed over her, as it had in the Spartan temple. But the gods Phobos and Deimos were old friends to her now. She let the fear burn inside her like fuel, making her voice even stronger. She sang for the snake people, for her friends' safety. Why not for Gaia, too?

Finally they reached the top of a steep slope, where the path ended in a curtain of green goo.

Kekrops faced the demigods. "Beyond this camouflage is the Acropolis. You must remain here. I will check that your way is clear."