NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

seventy seven: the invaders.

AFTER LEAVING THE Pillars of Hercules — unscathed except for a few coconuts lodged in the hull's bronze plating — the ship traveled by air for a few hundred miles. Brooklyn was in love.

Well, except for the fact that several times an hour, something attacked the ship. A flock of flesh-eating Stymphalian birds swooped out of the night sky, and Festus torched them. Storm spirits swirled around the mast, and Jason blasted them with lightning. While Coach Hedge was having dinner on the foredeck, a wild pegasus appeared from nowhere, stampeded over the coach's enchiladas, and flew off again, leaving cheesy hoof prints all across the deck.

"What was that for?" the coach demanded.

Brooklyn had snickered and threw her arms around Percy for a second before quickly pulling away. "Sucks to suck, Perce. Should've taken the night watch earlier."

Then she flounced off to her room.

She didn't even sleep, though; she was too wired to do that. She did a whole workout routine in her bedroom because she was bored until Jason knocked on her door and told her to take over for him, so she did.

It was about four in the morning. The weather was miserable. The fog was so thick, Brooklyn couldn't see Festus at the end of the prow, and warm drizzle hung in the air like a bead curtain. As they sailed into twenty-foot swells, the sea heaving underneath them, she could hear poor Hazel down in her cabin . . . also heaving. Brooklyn winced just hearing it.

She was leaning against the railing, looking out for something bad when two people joined her. Someone wrapped their arms around her and she flinched back into someone. They did feel familiar, though.

"Do not scare me like that," she pouted at Percy, swatting his arm.

"It was too tempting," he responded. Then he asked, "why are you up? Jason told me to come up here."

Brooklyn frowned. "Oh . . . I think he told me to get you too, but oh well." She shrugged, turning back to look at the fog and the ocean below her. "I wasn't tired, so he told me to take his place."

"You need to sleep," he told her.

"I got so much sleep last night, Perce. I literally slept the entire day." She rolled her eyes, before looking between him and Annabeth. "What are you two doing up? Up for causing trouble?"

"Probably," Annabeth muttered. "I don't know what he wants, either. So tell me, Percy."

He told her about his dream, his hands roaming around Brooklyn's body to calm himself down like he usually did.

Annabeth didn't seem surprised. She peered into the fog. "Percy, Brooks, you have to promise me something. Don't tell the others about this dream."

"Don't what?" Percy sputtered. "Annabeth—"

"What you saw was about the Mark of Athena," she said. "It won't help the others to know. It'll only make them worry, and it'll make it harder for me to go off on my own."

"Annabeth, you can't be serious. That thing in the dark, the big chamber with the crumbling floor—"

"I know." Her face looked unnaturally pale, and Brooklyn suspected it wasn't just the fog. "But I have to do this alone."

Brooklyn slapped a hand over Percy's mouth to stop him from talking. He, naturally, licked her hand, which made her pull her hand away from him, her face scrunching up into a disgusted expression.

"You know what's in that cavern," she guessed, wiping her hand off on Percy's shirt because she wouldn't dare ruin her own clothes that way. "Does it have to do with spiders?"

"Yes," Annabeth said in a small voice.

"Then how can you even . . .?" Percy asked, before shutting his mouth even without Brooklyn's hand to cover it. Progress. And he actually was staying quiet this time.

"We're not far from the Italian coast," he said. Never mind, she thought too soon. "Maybe a hundred nautical miles to the mouth of the Tiber."

"Good," Annabeth said. "By daybreak, we should—"

"Stop." Percy stiffened, letting go of Brooklyn. "We have to stop."

"Why?" she asked.

"Leo, stop!" he yelled.

Too late. The other boat appeared out of the fog and rammed them head-on. In that split second, Brooklyn registered random details: another trireme; black sails painted with a gorgon's head; hulking warriors, not quite human, crowded at the front of the boat in Greek armor, swords and spears ready; and a bronze ram at water level, slamming against the hull of the Argo II.

Brooklyn, Annabeth, and Percy were almost thrown overboard.

Festus blew fire, sending a dozen very surprised warriors screaming and diving into the sea, but more swarmed aboard the Argo II. Grappling lines wrapped around the rails and the mast, digging iron claws into the hull's planks.

By the time Brooklyn's brain was finally awake, the enemy was everywhere. She couldn't see well through the fog and the dark, but the invaders seemed to be humanlike dolphins, or dolphinlike humans. Some had gray snouts. Others held their swords in stunted flippers. Some waddled on legs partially fused together, while others had flippers for feet, which reminded her of clown shoes.

Leo sounded the alarm bell. He made a dash for the nearest ballista but went down under a pile of chattering dolphin warriors.

Brooklyn, Percy, and Annabeth stood back-to-back, as they'd done many times before, their weapons drawn. Brooklyn had a hand on her ring, ready to fight, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Several dozen warriors lowered their spears and made a ring around them, wisely keeping out of striking distance of Percy's sword. The dolphin-men opened their snouts and made whistling, popping noises. Brooklyn had never considered just how vicious dolphin teeth looked.

The warriors didn't seem interested in killing them immediately, thank the gods. They kept Percy, Annabeth, and Brooklyn contained while more of their comrades flooded belowdecks and secured the hull. Brooklyn could hear them breaking down the cabin doors, scuffling with his friends. Even if the other demigods hadn't been fast asleep, they wouldn't have stood a chance against so many.

Leo was dragged across the deck, half-conscious and groaning, and dumped on a pile of ropes. Below, the sounds of fighting tapered off. Either the others had been subdued or . . . dead, probably.

On one side of the ring of spears, the dolphin warriors parted to let someone through. He appeared to be fully human, but from the way the dolphins fell back before him, he was clearly the leader. He was dressed in Greek combat armor — sandals, kilt, and greaves, a breastplate decorated with elaborate sea monster designs — and everything he wore was gold. Even his sword, a Greek blade like Riptide, was gold instead of bronze.

The golden boy, Brooklyn thought, remembering Percy's dream. They'll have to get past the golden boy. Ew.

What really made her nervous was the guy's helmet. His visor was a full face mask fashioned like a gorgon's head —curved tusks, horrible features pinched into a snarl, and golden snake hair curling around the face. She had met gorgons before. The likeness was good — a little too good for her taste.

"Who are you?" Percy demanded. "What do you want?"

The golden warrior chuckled. With a flick of his blade, faster than Brooklyn could follow, he smacked Riptide out of Percy's hand and sent it flying into the sea.

"Hello, brother." The golden warrior's voice was rich and velvety, with an exotic accent. "Always happy to rob a fellow son of Poseidon. I am Chrysaor, the Golden Sword. As for what I want . . ." He turned his metal mask toward Annabeth. "Well, that's easy. I want everything you have."