━━ ❝ 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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CASSIE WOKE UP coughing water in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform fabric.
Annabeth sat next to her, tacking into the wind. Percy lay beside her, unconscious by the look of it.
Cassie's clothes were wet, her hair sticking to her face, cold shivers going through her body. But hey, at least she wasn't dead!
She got up slowly, trying not to get dizzy.
"How are you doing Cass?" Annabeth asked. "I had to perform RCP on you."
Cassie checked her hair, her butterfly clip was still there. "Could be better." She looked at the sea and gave the blonde a little smile. "With the whole explosion and drowning thing and all."
Percy tried to sit up.
"Rest," Annabeth said. "You're going to need it, you two."
"Tyson ...?"
She shook her head. "Percy, I'm really sorry."
They were silent while the waves tossed them up and down.
"He may have survived," Cassie said halfheartedly, "I mean, fire can't kill him."
Percy nodded.
They sailed for hours.
The three took turns sipping from the Dr Peppe Annabeth had salvaged.
By Annabeth's estimate, they had less than twenty four hours to find Grover.
"Yeah," Percy said bitterly. "You can never trust a Cyclops."
Annabeth stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Percy. I was wrong about Tyson, okay? I wish I could tell him that."
Cassie missed Tyson, he had been a good friend for the short period of time Cassie had met him.
Before Cassie could continue dwelling on what had happen to Tyson, a seagull swooped down out of nowhere and landed on their makeshift mast.
Annabeth looked startled as the bird dropped a small cluster of leaves into her lap.
"Land," she said. "There's land nearby!"
Cassie sat up. Sure enough, there was a line of blue and brown in the distance.
Another minute and shecould make out an island with a small mountain in the center, a dazzling white collection of buildings, a beach dotted with palm trees, and a harbor filled with a strange assortment of boats.
The current was pulling their rowboat toward what looked like a tropical paradise.
"Welcome!" said a beautiful lady with a clipboard and an elegant suit. She didn't look the part in that dessert island.
Then again, their rowboat wasn't the weirdest ship in port. Along with a bunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugout canoes, and an old-fashioned three-masted sailing ship. There was a helipad with a "Channel Five Fort Lauderdale" helicopter on it, and a short runway with a Learjet and a propeller
