The Shadow Summoner | Book Three - PJO Universe

fourteen

A NICE PAIR OF SHOES

They saw no sign that the mercenaries were pursuing them. How could they?

Even hardened warriors could not be expected to give chase after such a performance. Ariana imagined they were sobbing in each other's arms, or rifling through the yacht for extra boxes of tissues.

They made their way through the thirties of Caligula's super-yacht chain, using stealth when necessary, mostly relying on the apathy of the crew members we encountered.

Caligula had always inspired fear in his servants, but that didn't equate to loyalty. No one asked them any questions.

On boat forty, Piper collapsed. Ariana and Apollo rushed to help, but she pushed them away.

"I'm okay," she muttered.

"You are not okay," Apollo said. "You probably have a concussion. You just worked a powerful bit of musical charm. You need a minute to rest."

Ariana nodded, agreeing with the former god. "Trust me Piper, I've passed out a lot and have had plenty of concussions-"

"We don't have a minute."

Ariana was fully aware of that. Sporadic bursts of gunfire still crackled over the harbor from the direction they had come.

The harsh scree of strixes pierced the night sky. Their friends were buying them time, and they
had none to waste.

This was also the night of the new moon.

Whatever plans Caligula had for Camp Jupiter, far to the north, they were happening now.

Ariana could only hope Leo had reached the Roman demigods, and that they could fend off whatever evil came their way.

Being powerless to help them was a terrible feeling.

The thought of Hazel - her sister - being even the slightest bit hurt made Ariana anxious not to waste a moment.

"Nevertheless," Apollo told Piper, "I really don't have time for you to die on me, or go into a coma. So you will take a moment to sit. Let's get out of the open."

Piper was too weak to protest much. In her present condition, Ariana doubted she could have charmspoken her way out of a parking ticket.

Ariana and Apollo carried her inside yacht forty, which turned out to be dedicated to Caligula's wardrobe.

They assed room after room filled with clothes- suits, togas, armor, dresses (why not?), and a variety of costumes from pirate to Apollo to panda bear. (Again, why not?)

Finally they found a dressing room with a couch. Ariana moved a pile of evening dresses, then ordered Piper to sit.

Apollo pulled out a crushed square of ambrosia and ordered her to eat it. (My goodness, Apollo could be bossy when he had to be. At least that was one godly power he hadn't lost.)

While Piper nibbled her divine energy bar, Apollo stared glumly at the racks of bespoke finery. "Why can't the shoes be here? This is his wardrobe boat, after all."

"Come on, Apollo." Piper winced as she shifted on the cushions. "Everybody knows you need a separate super-yacht just for shoes."

"I can't tell if you're joking."

She picked up a Stella McCartney dress-a lovely low-cut number in scarlet silk. "Nice." Then she pulled out her knife, gritting her teeth from the effort, and slit the gown right down the front.

"That felt good," she decided.

It seemed pointless to Ariana. You couldn't hurt Caligula by ruining his things. He had all the things. Nor did it seem to make Piper any happier.