━━ ❝ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 to shine like a star you must burn
like one ❞
•--• ✹ •--•
[ i. completed / edited
ii. previously called folklore
iii. extended summary inside
iv. book 1 of the greek tragedy series ]
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━━━━━━━ THE NAME CASSIOPEIA meant 'she who strives for victory.' It was her mother's idea, one of the few she had when she was with lucid.
Cassiopeia was also the terrible mother in the myth of Perseus and Andromeda, that chained her daughter to the rocks.
The rain kept coming down on them.
They got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples.
Annabeth was unbelievable. She tould bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever and so did Cassie who could also carve hearts in the apple. Percy wasn't too bad himself.
The game ended when Percy tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, ouf Hacky Sack disappeared-core, stem, and all.
Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but the others were too busy laughing.
Finally the bus came. As they stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy-enchiladas.
"What is it?" Cassie asked.
"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing. But you could tell it wasn't nothing. Percy started looking over his shoulder, too.
They was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. The four stowed their back-packs. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh.
Cassie opened her bag and grabbed a Kit Kat, she offered some to her friends before eating her piece.
As the last passengers got on, Annabeth clamped her hand onto his knee. "Percy."
Cassie turned to look, "oh f-"
An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered.
She looked like a gangster granny.
It was Mrs. Dodds- Percy had told her about his maths teacher. Older, more withered, but definitely the same evil face.
Percy scrunched down in his seat.
Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like Mrs. Dodds-same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses.
Triplet demon grandmothers.
They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.
The bus pulled out of the station, and they headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," He said, trying to keep his voice from quivering. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."
