¹Pocket Full of Posies, p. jackson

iii. Tornado of Demon Pigeons

chapter three
❛ tornado of demon pigeons ❜

━━━━━  IT WAS BAD enough to learn Tyson was a son of Poseidon (but, truth be told, Posie already suspected that, given most Cyclopes were the offspring of the God of the Sea); it was even worse to learn that Anthos and Arsis were ruined. Her faithful, trusty daggers were all rusted. The Celestial bronze blades didn't gleam the way they used to — the way all blades molded from Celestial bronze should. Now, there were thin layers of brown rust covering the blades, making them dull, lifeless, and now, useless. As she carefully handled the weapons, the leather hilts were falling off, into her lap, and all over her bed in large, crumbling heaps.

"How ...?" she murmured to herself, gently turning Anthos over in her hands.

"What's up, Posie?" Austin asked, sliding across the wooden floorboards of Cabin Seven in his socks. She looked up quickly, hearing her name through all the constant chatter of their cabin. Before she could attempt to hide the blades, Austin spotted them, his dark eyes widening considerably. "Holy shit! How'd that happen?"

From his own bottom bunk, Lee grumbled and sat up, letting his legs hang over the side. "Austin," he started, "what'd I say about cursing?"

The younger son of Apollo only ignored their Head Counselor, jumping onto Posie's bed, knees first, jarring both of them in the process. He crawled along her quilt, gawking at the rusted Celestial bronze blades. "Michael does it all the time, Lee!" he called back. Lee rolled his eyes in response as Austin grabbed Arsis from where it lay beside Posie. "Look at this!"

He whirled around to face the other inhabitants of Cabin Seven, clutching the crumbling hilt tightly in his hands. Sheaths of rotted leather fell off, fluttering not-so-gracefully to the floor. In all the commotion, the rest of the chatter in Cabin Seven ceased, drawing all attention to Austin, Posie, and the rusted dagger her brother held. She sat, frozen, battling the urge to crawl under her bunk, as she clutched the other blade, Anthos — everyone's eyes collectively widened as they noticed Arsis.

Lee was the first to do anything — quickly getting up from his bunk, crossing the cabin to hers. He ripped Arsis out of Austin's hands, watching in stunned silence as the last of the leather hilt fell to the ground. "Posie ... what happened? What'd you do?"

Posie felt the rush of embarrassment wash over her, like a wall of fire. She moved to rip Arsis out of Lee's grasp, setting both daggers on the table beside her bunk. "I didn't do anything!" she insisted shrilly, her brows knitting together as she stared at the blades. "It ... it must've been those Colchis bulls."

She could tell Lee and Austin didn't entirely believe her. She knew the rest of their cabin mates were pretending they weren't listening, but they were all doing a horrible job at it. Lee came over to the other side of the bunk, moving one dagger, and the dull blade reflected none of the light from over their heads. The embarrassment that felt like a wall of fire died as quickly as it had been ignited, replaced by this cold wash of fear and realization. Posie remembered something key from the fight: she had been holding Anthos and Arsis when she managed to summon that green glow to help her defeat Bull Number One. She should have known — if that glow could rust the bronze of the Colchis bulls, there was no doubt it could (and would) rust the bronze of her blades.

Lee frowned down at the daggers. "Go talk to Beckendorf tomorrow," he told her. "I'm sure he'll know what to do."

Posie brushed the pieces of leather off her bed, ushering Austin off as well. "You think he can fix them?"