In which, Adira Lancaster falls in love with her rival, Percy Jackson
OR
he falls in love with her first, unknowingly.
She only seemed to think about a rivalry. Nothing else. Zilch. Nada. Zip.
-disclaimer- I do not own the Percy Jackson Books, or an...
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The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We all hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious.
"Let's try to contact Chiron," I said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."
"We can't use phones, right?"
"I'm not talking about phones," I laughed.
We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, as I looked for what was needed. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.
Finally, we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were three adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good.
"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun.
"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Adira?"
"Don't look at me," I said, pulling my pockets inside out. "The dining car wiped me out."
Percy fished out his last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter, which left us two nickels and one drachma from Medusa's place.
"Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."
"What are you talking about?" Percy asked, confused.
Grover fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing."
"Instant messaging?"
"Iris-messaging," I corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."
"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?"
Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."
Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. I held my palm out to Percy. "Drachma, please."
He handed it over.
I raised the coin over my head. "O goddess, accept our offering."
I threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.
"Half-Blood Hill," I requested.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top, along with a brunette, who was fidgeting with a knife. The blonde was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.
