WINGED ₁

18

AS SOON AS ANNABETH FINISHED BANDAGING MADELEINE'S SHOULDER, they spotted the body in the water.

He was facedown, his dark hair a halo around his head. He was too small to be Tyson, and clearly not Clarisse. His skin was too warm to be one of the zombies, and as far as Madeleine knew, there had been no other humans on that ship.

She wanted to dive in and swim to him, but her shoulder hurt too bad. Annabeth was already on it, though. Together, they managed to steer and paddle the small boat with their hands toward the boy.

When Annabeth reached into the water and turned him over, Madeleine almost collapsed in relief. There was Percy, soaking wet and unconscious, but alive. Alive.

Annabeth, with Madeleine's help, heaved him into the boat. He remained unconscious. They glanced at each other, and then Annabeth started to laugh. Madeleine couldn't help joining. They'd survived the wreck with their lives, and that was really all they could ask for right now.

Once they were done with their hysterics, Annabeth showed Madeleine what she'd managed to salvage: Hermes's now empty thermos, a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts, and a bottle of Dr Pepper. They also had Percy's knapsack now. It had been tangled with him when they fished him out of the water, but it was bitten in half by Scylla's teeth, so most of the items inside of it had floated away. Fortunately, though, it had retained the vitamins Madeleine's father had given them.

Annabeth offered Madeleine the ambrosia, but Madeleine shook her head. As much as her shoulder hurt, she would live. Better to save it for emergencies, because as exhausted as Madeleine was, she knew their trials weren't even close to over. 

Annabeth began to work on stitching a makeshift sail together so their boat might catch some wind. As she worked, Madeleine asked, "Did you see anyone else get away?"

Annabeth pursed her lips and glanced at Percy. "I saw Clarisse get in a boat, but that's it. I think everyone else, all of the undead... they blew up." 

She cast Percy another uneasy look, and Madeleine suddenly understood. Tyson had been on that ship, in the boiler room. There was very little chance he could've survived.

Madeline hadn't known the Cyclops very long, but she would miss him. The strange thing about grief was that it lingered, but it only really hit you later. So until it hit Madeleine, she would keep going. Just like she always did.

What she really worried about was Percy's reaction.

Annabeth tacked the sail into the wind, and as she did, Percy jolted upwards.

Madeleine pushed him back down as he groaned, queasy sounding. He tried to look around the boat, but it was hard from his horizontal point of view.

"Rest," Annabeth told him. "You're going to need it."

"Tyson...?" Percy murmured.

Annabeth and Madeleine exchanged a dark look. Annabeth looked away, toward the sea, and shook her head. "Percy, I'm really sorry."

Percy went quiet as the waves tossed them up and down.

"He may have survived," Annabeth said halfheartedly. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

Percy nodded, but he didn't look optimistic. Madeleine understood. She'd seen the explosion rip through slid iron. If Tyson had been in the boiler room, there was no way he could've survived.

Waves lapped at the boat. Annabeth showed Percy the items she'd collected. He nodded but said nothing, and when he saw Madeleine's shoulder, all he did was purse his lips in concern.