¹Pocket Full of Posies, p. jackson

xiv. The Party Ponies

chapter fourteen
❛ the party ponies ❜

━━━━━  POSIE HADN'T BEEN sure when she fell asleep, only that she had. Another dream of Liviana — her gaunt face as her green eyes glowed, her tears streaming down her face in this sickly green color. The blonde girl, as she couldn't have been older than eighteen or nineteen, mouthed things — it was more like she was screaming, out in pain or anger, Posie didn't know. But she couldn't hear Liviana for the man speaking to her once more, telling her, Don't forget. We've met. And will again, soon. However, the horrifying scene of Liviana silently screaming wasn't the thing to wake Posie up — it was the repeated motion of salt water washing over her face. That, and Percy shaking her shoulder.

Admittedly, Posie did snap awake — this loud gasp as her head whirled around to face the son of Poseidon behind her. Her mouth clamped shut, tasting the metallic, salty taste of seawater, as she blinked wordlessly at Percy. He blinked back, clearly surprised by her sudden alertness. It wouldn't seem possible to forget the image of Liviana, but for a moment, Posie did forget. (She was just trying to gather her wits, is all. Not many people can say they don't blink wordlessly mere seconds after being shaken awake.) Not wanting to make it any more awkward, she wordlessly turned around, facing the mane of the hippocampus, her ears feeling as if someone was trying to use them for firewood.

Whipping her head back around, that gave Posie a clear view of what they were encroaching upon. In the far distance, craning her neck to peer over the hippocampus, she saw that the sun was setting behind a city skyline. She could see a beachside highway that was lined with perfect-looking palm trees, colorful storefronts that glowed brightly, and a large harbor filled to the brim with sailboats and cruise ships.

"Uh, right —" Posie cleared her throat loudly, looking for the other hippocampus that had fled Polyphemus's island. "Um ... where are we?"

Annabeth was off to her right, looking over after she heard Posie's voice. "Miami, I think," she answered. "But, Percy," she looked at the son of Poseidon, "the hippocampi are acting funny."

Posie didn't even need to look at any of the hippocampi to try and find the odd behaviors. There was an immediate whining noise coming from many of them, and then they began swimming in circles, with the six from Polyphemus's island still on their backs. They were sniffing the water; one of them even sneezed — they looked clearly unhappy, to even the untrained eye of Posie.

Percy frowned, telling the others, "This is as far as they'll take us. Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

In truth, Posie hated the idea of swimming to any shore, but especially if it was the Miami shorelines — but there was no other option. She grimaced, but slid off the back of her hippocampus after Percy. Her feet barely scraped the sand, and the continuous waves made it even harder to keep her feet on the easily portable, malleable sand. As she pulled herself through the currents, trailing after the others as they moved slowly across the sandbars, Onesimus spoke to her, saying, You really have changed, Posie. It shocked her, admittedly. So much had happened in such a short amount of time — the Sirens, finally reaching Polyphemus's island, the panic attack, the sinking of the Queen Anne's Revenge. In a way, it was as if he couldn't get a word in edgewise throughout the past day. It wasn't that he was purposefully silent, as he tended to be when Posie pushed him for any answers he had; on the contrary, Onesimus never had a chance to guide her, with her mind too scrambled by everything else to handle him.

I think that's obvious, she agreed. If you told me last summer that I'd be going on a quest, I would've passed out. But now, here I am — swimming in the ocean after fighting for my life against a Cyclops, with another Cyclops I had accidentally befriended.