NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

one hundred and nine: the underwater battle.

BROOKLYN SAW TWO options: fight or talk. Then again, were there more options?

Usually, when faced with a creepy twenty-foot-tall lady with jellyfish hair, she would've gone with fight.

But since she called Percy brother — that made Brooklyn hesitate.

"Perce, do you know her? I've never seen her before."

Percy shook his head. "Doesn't look like my mom, so I'm gonna guess we're related on the godly side. You a daughter of Poseidon, Miss . . . uh . . . ?"

The pale lady raked her fingernails against the metal disc, making a screeching sound like a tortured whale. "No one knows me," she sighed. "Why would I assume my own brother would recognize me? I am Kymopoleia!"

Brooklyn, Percy, and Jason exchanged looks.

"So . . ." Brooklyn said. "We're going to call you Kym. And you'd be a, hmm, Nereid, then? Minor goddess?"

"Minor?"

"By which," Jason said quickly, "she means under the drinking age! Because obviously you're so young and beautiful."

Brooklyn held out her fist, and he fist bumped it. They were such sibling goals.

The goddess turned her full attention to Brooklyn and Jason. She pointed her index finger and traced their outlines in the water.

"Brooklyn Hayward and Jason Grace," said the goddess. "Children of Zeus and Jupiter."

"Yeah. We're friends of Percy's," Jason explained.

Kym's eyes narrowed. "So it's true . . . these times make for strange friends and unexpected enemies. The Romans never worshipped me. To them, I was a nameless fear — a sign of Neptune's greatest wrath. They never worshipped Kymopoleia, the goddess of violent sea storms!"

She spun her disc. Another beam of green light flashed upward, churning the water and making the ruins rumble.

"Uh, yeah," Percy said. "The Romans aren't big on navies. They had, like, one rowboat. Which I sank. Speaking of violent storms, you're doing a first-rate job upstairs."

"Thank you," said Kym.

"Thing is," Brooklyn said, "Our ship is caught in it, and it's kind of being ripped apart. I'm sure you didn't mean to—"

"Oh, yes, I did."

"You did." She scrunched up her nose. "Well . . . that sucks. I don't suppose you'd cut it out, then, if we asked nicely?"

"No," the goddess agreed. "Even now, the ship is close to sinking. I'm rather amazed it's held together this long. Excellent workmanship."

Sparks flew from Brooklyn's arms into the tornado. She thought of the crew frantically trying to keep the ship in one piece. By coming down here, she, J Money, and Percy had left the others defenseless. They had to act soon.

The thing was . . . fighting a goddess on her home court wouldn't be easy. Even if they managed to take her down, there was no guarantee the storm would stop.

"So . . . Kym," Jason said, "what could we do to make you change your mind and let our ship go?"

Kym gave him that creepy alien smile. "Son of Jupiter, do you know where you are?"

Jason furrowed his eyebrows. "You mean these ruins. An ancient palace?"

"Indeed," Kym said. "The original palace of my father, Poseidon."

Percy snapped his fingers, which sounded like a muffled explosion. "That's why I recognized it. Dad's new crib in the Atlantic is kind of like this."

"I wouldn't know," Kym said. "I am never invited to see my parents. I can only wander the ruins of their old domains. They find my presence . . . disruptive."