🌷 "We're Greek, Percy. We're all born with tragedy in our blood."
The only thing Daphne could ever be sure of was that she was not meant to be alive. Whatever you wanted to call it - a gut feeling or just some serious anxiety, she couldn't shake th...
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chapter I
🌷 In a way, it's nice to know that there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force is really trying go mess up your day.
Percy, Annabeth and Grover were walking (dragging themselves) through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York city making the night sky look yellow behind them, and the smell of the Husdon reeking in their noses.
Grover was shivering and braying, tripping over his hooves and the tree roots at how fast Annabeth was dragging them forward.
"Three Kindly Ones. All three at once." Grover fearfully said. "Can we take a rest? My hooves are gonna fall off," he complained, falling against a pine tree behind him in a very Grover-like fashion.
Annabeth looked as though she wanted to argue, but felt better of it when Grover's teary eyes met hers. "Just for a minute." She gave in, but stared at the horizon reluctantly. "The farther we get away, the better."
Percy still looked shellshocked, the ringing of the bus exploding still in his ears, and the weight of his guilt a heavy burden over his shoulders. "All our money was back there," he reminded her, sounding helpless. "Our food and clothes. Everything."
Annabeth didn't answer. Percy looked up from the muddy ground and saw that she was leaning against the tree with Grover sitting on a fallen log and stretching his goat legs. He'd lost his fake feet in the run away from Mrs Dodds.
She was fixated on her camp necklace, staring at an open a locket surrounded by her clay camp beads. When he saw it, he just assumed it was some sort of charm. She had a miserable wrinkle in her lip as she looked at the old photo, paper yellowed with what he assumed was time.
