ONE LAST TIME . . . heroes of olympus

41

KAT WAS BORED.

She was sitting on the Argo II, watching everyone as they panicked, casually dabbing on makeup as she snickered at everyone nearby.

Annabeth had paced the deck of their flying warship, the Argo II, checking and double-checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. She confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast. She reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew — and the backup plan 2.0, and the backup plan 3.0.

Earlier, Annabeth had made Kat convince very strongly to Hedge to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. Kat was very disappointed that he wouldn't be coming along. Literally, who wouldn't want a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die!" as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp.

As the warship descended through the clouds, Kat felt a tingle of doubt for the first time. What if this was a bad idea? What if the Romans panicked and attacked them on sight?

The Argo II definitely did not look friendly. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete . . . well, it wasn't the most appropriate ride for a meet-and-greet with the neighbors.

Kat pulled herself out of those thoughts, taking out her lipgloss and making her lips shiny. Too late to turn back now. That was basically her motto at this point.

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. Kat stared down at them from her spot sitting on a crate of Greek Fire that she probably shouldn't be sitting on but oh well.

Everyone else took their places. Well, except for Annabeth, who had walked over to the railing 20 feet away from Kat, staring down at the view below them unblinkingly. Her hands were gripping one of the railing shields with a death grip. Kat could've gone over and asked her what was wrong, but she was scared of Annabeth, who didn't seem like she liked her all that much, even though they've known each other for years. Also, Kat was lazy.

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would've been satisfied with a pilot's wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He'd made Kat find and steal most of these things, which had been a fun vacation. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD. It was why Kat both loved and hated him.

Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines.

"Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk."

Her charmspeak was so powerful, the words flowed over Kat, filling her with the desire to yeet Cortana and have a nice long chat. Or maybe she'd do something else with her mouth . . .

Piper tried hard to play down her beauty, as per usual, but she's still the most beautiful girl Kat's ever known. Today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink Hello Kitty designs that Kat was sure was from her closet because Alice and Julia had bought her that as a joke. Her choppy brown hair was braided down the right side with an eagle's feather.

She's also Kat's girlfriend. Girlfriend! Holy shit, Kat worshipped the ground she walked on. It was not funny. Her siblings snickered at her and called her really fucking down bad, which was true, but she didn't care. She was dating Piper fucking McLean. She can afford to be a simp.