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Until she met the exploding status, Rory thought she was prepared for anything.
She and Annabeth paced the deck of their flying warship, the Argo II, checking and double checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. Rory confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast. Annabeth reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew — and the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan.
Most important, Rory pulled aside their war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die!"
Everything seemed to be in order. Even that mysterious chill she had been feeling since the ship launched along with the smell of death had dissipated, at least for now. If she had been in a more sound state of mind, Rory probably would have been more worried.
The warship descended through the clouds, but Rory couldn't stop second guessing herself. 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.
Annabeth had the idea to give the Romans a heads up. She had asked Leo to send one of his special inventions — a holographic scroll — to alert their friends inside the camp. Hopefully the message had gotten through. Leo had wanted to paint a giant message on the bottom of the hull — WASSUP? with a smiley face — but Rory and Annabeth vetoed the idea. Rory doubted that the Romans had a sense of humor.
Too late to turn back now.
The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold and green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. Rory gripped one of the bronze shields that lined the starboard rail. Annabeth stood beside her, holding one of Rory's hands to prevent her from picking at her nails.
Their three crewmates took their places.
On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would have 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 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.
Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines.
"Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk."
