"Just write a book" they said. "It'll be easy," they said, "Everyone gets published these days." Yeah, well, it's a little harder when your editors are gods that will turn you into a gecko and use you as a ping pong ball if you don't write them exac...
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REMEMBER WHEN I SAID PERCY COULD BE CLEVER? Yeah. I take that back, because he proceeded to make the stupid possible choice five seconds later.
"One on one," Percy challenged Luke. "What are you afraid of?"
My brother contains multitudes. What can I say?
It worked, though. At least in keeping Luke from murdering us right away. He sneered at us and the soldiers hesitated. Before he could give the order, Agrius burst onto the deck leading a flying horse. The stallion was a pure black, but seemed to show other colors in the light of the sun (Blackjack is nipping me as I write this. I get it, you're epic and my description is subpar, let me get on with the story!) He bucked and whinnied, calling Agrius and Luke some inappropriate names (I don't care if you were right, you can't just call people –)
"Sir!" Agrius called, dodging a pegasus hoof. "Your steed is ready!"
But Luke kept glaring us down.
"I told you last summer, Percy," he said. "You can't bait me into a fight."
"And you keep avoiding one," Percy replied. "Scared your warriors will see you get whipped?"
Luke glanced at his warriors. I realized he was actually going to fall for this. It would lose him time trying to chase Clarisse down, but apparently (according to Percy afterwards) he was afraid of looking weak. As if the wild pacing and screaming was inspiring, and this was going to be the breaking point for them.
"I'll kill you quickly," Luke said.
He raised Backbiter and whistled to one of his men, who threw him a round leather–and–bronze shield.
"Luke," Annabeth said, "at least give him a shield."
"Sorry, Annabeth. You bring your own equipment to this part."
I scowled. I almost demanded that I be allowed to fight as well. Percy and I always worked better together – we had even beaten a god (sorry Ares, but facts are facts.) But Luke had barely agreed to a one–on–one. He wasn't stupid enough to agree to a two–on–one. Especially because he couldn't cheat his way out of it like he had with the shield.
Luke lunged and ended up five inches from gutting my brother. Percy managed to jump back in time, and the sword only grazed his ribs. He tried to counterattack with Riptide, but Luke slammed the blade away with his shield.
"My, Percy," Luke chided. "You're out of practice."
Then he swiped at Percy's head, and I realized I didn't need to ask for a two–on–one. I could just make one.
I forced myself to focus on the pool instead of my brother getting pummeled. My stomach lurched – and so did the water, rising violently out of pool. It slammed into Luke full force and sent him skittering nearly to the edge of the deck. From the corner of my eye I could see Percy crumbled by the pool. He'd gained a new wound – a bloody gash across his knee – and he was crawling weakly towards the water.
