ONE LAST TIME . . . heroes of olympus

91

KAT COULDN'T BELIEVE how hard it was to find deadly poison.

All morning she and Foo Foo Bear had scoured the port of Pylos. He allowed only Kat to come with him, because they're besties. Obviously. And maybe his shape-shifting relatives would be good with Mikhailovs . . . and if not, then Kat was a daughter of Hermes for a reason.

As it turned out, her sword was more in demand. So far, they'd slain a Laistrygonian ogre in the bakery, battled a giant warthog in the public square and defeated a flock of Stymphalian birds by having Cortana fly up and kill them all.

She was glad for the work. It kept her from dwelling on her conversation with Leo that she'd had last night. She was avoiding him, everyone knew it, and no one asked why. Everyone in the crew was curious, but Kat wouldn't say anything, and neither was Leo. Still, the distance between them was leaving an ache in her gut. Damn trauma bonding.

Also in Pylos were ads plastered all over town for a movie, Piper's dad at the forefront of the posters. All of them said TRISTAN MCLEAN IS JAKE STEEL: SIGNED IN BLOOD. Kat had literally bought a Polaroid and took a selfie in front of it just so she could tease Piper about it later.

Around one in the afternoon, Kat spoke with an Ancient Greek ghost in a Laundromat, feeling like a drug dealer or something while doing it, and got directions to an ancient stronghold where the shape-shifting descendants of Periclymenus supposedly hung out.

After trudging across the island in the afternoon heat, they found the cave perched halfway up a beachside cliff. Frank insisted that Kat wait for him at the bottom while he checked it out.

She wasn't happy about that, but she stood obediently on the beach, her feet in the water while she squinted up at the cave entrance and hoping she hadn't guided him into a death trap.

Around her, a stretch of white sand hugged the foot of the hills. Sunbathers sprawled on blankets. Little kids splashed in the waves. The blue sea glittered invitingly.

Kat wished she could surf those waters. They'd talked about going on a surfing trip, the 8 of them, someday, if the world wasn't destroyed and they were still friends.

She glanced up at the cliff's summit. The ruins of an old castle clung to the ridge. Kat wasn't sure if that was part of the shape-changers' hideout or not. Nothing moved on the parapets. The entrance of the cave sat about seventy feet down the cliff face — a circle of black in the chalky yellow rock like the hole of a giant pencil sharpener.

Nestor's Cave, the Laundromat ghost had called it. Supposedly the ancient king of Pylos had stashed his treasure there in times of crisis. The ghost also claimed that Kat's papa had once hidden the stolen cattle of Apollo in that cave.

Hermes. Kat's never had the highest opinion about her papa. In her sixteen years of life, he's never outright tried to meet her, talk to her, whatever. She's seen him around Olympus when Camp Half-Blood used to go to there for the winter solstice, but he's never talked to her face to face. At least, that she knows of. But she doubts it. He only talks to mama if he has to, he won't talk to his daughter.

To be honest, it hurts. Kat's listened to her friends talking about meeting their godly parents. And, sure, none of them really have good opinions on those meetings, but at least they see their godly parents. Percy's practically besties with his papa. Annabeth got her invisibility cap from her mama, even if they had that whole subway conflict. Frank had gotten claimed by Mars and saw him in the Zhang home. It was really only Kat and Jason who haven't met their godly parents. And even then Jason had slightly been raised by Jupiter for a short amount of time when he was a baby. Kat got nothing.

Kat was just starting to think, Frank's been gone too long — when he appeared at the cave entrance. Next to him stood a tall grey-haired man in a white linen suit and a pale yellow tie. The older man pressed a small shiny object — like a stone or a piece of glass — into Frank's hands. He and Frank exchanged a few words. Frank nodded gravely. Then the man turned into a seagull and flew away.