ᑎᗴᗷᑌᒪᗩᗴ ➪ 𝙿.𝙹 + 𝙿.𝚂. + 𝙰.𝙲. [𝟸]

𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡; 𝗣𝗜𝗭𝗭𝗔 𝗖𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗦

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗖𝗬 𝗗𝗜𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗨𝗖𝗛 before Blackjack gave him a good knock on the cranium. He remembered Gaea dropping in to say "Hi," but after that it got blurry. It was like watching himself through a smokescreen, not able to control his own limbs.

He probably should apologize to Leo.

The worst part, he thought, was the speaking. The feeling of his mouth opening, and words coming out . . . Not his words. He hated it.

He woke up groggy, in the bed bay. Jason was on the berth beside him, rubbing his foreheads. "Knocked out twice in two days," he muttered. "Some demigod." He glanced sheepishly at Percy. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to blast you."

Percy's shirt was peppered with burn holes. His hair was even more disheveled than normal. Despite that, he managed a weak laugh. He didn't want to hate Jason–especially since neither of them had meant to do it. "Not the first time. Your big sister got me good once at camp."

"Yeah, but . . . I could have killed you."

"Or I could have killed you," Percy said, mildly.

Jason shrugged. "If there'd been an ocean in Kansas, maybe."

Thalia had thought the same thing. Percy had thought the same thing. "I don't need an ocean—"

"Boys," Annabeth interrupted, "I'm sure you both would've been wonderful at killing each other. But right now, you need some rest."

"It's nap-time for our little warriors," Polaris said with an extremely fake sympathetic pout. "Such brave boys."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Food first," he insisted, ignoring his girlfriend. "And we really need to talk. Bacchus said some things that don't—"

"Bacchus?" Annabeth raised her hand. "Okay, fine. We need to talk. Mess hall. Ten minutes. I'll tell the others. And please, Percy . . . change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse."

"That's because I was," Percy grumbled under his breath as she walked out the door.

Polaris's patted his hand gently. "It think Tempest might be the only horse you won't be able to win over."

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘, and Piper explained what had happened at TOPEKA 32—their conversation with Bacchus, the trap sprung by Gaea, the eidolons that had possessed the Percy and Jason.

"Of course!" Hazel slapped the table, which startled Frank so much, he dropped his burrito. "That's what happened to Leo too."

"So it wasn't my fault." Leo exhaled. "I didn't start World War Three. I just got possessed by an evil spirit. That's a relief!"

Percy dropped his half-eaten burger onto his plate. "And, Valdez, I gotta say–"

Leo waved him off.

"No, I'm serious," Percy persisted. "It was awful."

"But the Romans don't know that," Annabeth said. "And why would they take our word for it? Eidolons are a lousy excuse."

"We could contact Reyna," Jason suggested. "She would believe us."

He turned to Piper with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "You could convince her, Pipes. I know you could."

Polaris sucked in a hissing breath through her teeth. She was leaning back in her chair, fiddling with her compacted staff. She hadn't really touched her stew.

"I could try," Piper agreed halfheartedly. "But Octavian is the one we have to worry about. In my dagger blade, I saw him taking control of the Roman crowd. I'm not sure Reyna can stop him."