ENTRAPPED ₂

103

MADELEINE COULDN'T BELIEVE HOW HARD IT WAS TO FIND DEADLY POISON.

All morning she, Piper, and Frank had scoured the port of Pylos. Originally, Frank had only wanted Piper to come with him, thinking her charmspeak might be useful. But Madeleine had insisted on joining them, because three was a good number, and she needed to get off of that stupid ship. It was beginning to feel suffocating.

As it turned out, Piper's sword was more in demand than her charmspeak. 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 with some well-aimed vegetables from Piper's cornucopia.

Madeleine was glad for the work. It kept her from dwelling on the conversation she had had with Piper last night. After weeks of weird animosity between them, it seemed like that all had finally faded. Piper had completely spilled her guts to Madeleine: her fear for Ethan and Leo and Jason and her dad, how out of place she felt everywhere, that she would never measure up to anyone else on the crew. In return, Madeleine spilled her own guts, about Tartarus and leaving and her own fear of messing everything up.

Piper wasn't Drew, but that wasn't what Madeleine wanted from her. Having a friend, a true friend, that was separated from most of Madeleine's nonsense felt priceless. Still, vulnerability was hard for Madeleine. It was easier to not think about it, or the rest of her issues, or the looming problem of Calypso.

Piper didn't seem to be thinking very much about their conversation either―probably because of the ads plastered all over Pylos for her dad's new movie. The posters were in Greek, but Madeleine could read them just fine: TRISTAN MCLEAN IS JAKE STEEL: SIGNED IN BLOOD.

And there stood Tristan McLean on the poster, his shirt ripped open to reveal perfect abs, an AK-47 in each hand, a rakish smile on his chiseled face. Truthfully, Madeleine didn't really see the appeal. And she couldn't imagine how embarrassed she would be if they came across, like, a buck-naked statue of Hermes. Gods.

Around one in the afternoon, Piper finally put her charmspeak to work. She spoke with an Ancient Greek ghost in a Laundromat 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 Madeleine and Piper wait for him at the bottom while he checked it out.

Neither of the girls were happy about that, but they stood obediently on the beach, squinting up at the cave entrance and hoping that Frank wasn't dying a terrible death in there.

Behind them, 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. Madeleine hadn't been swimming since Tartarus, and she missed the water terribly. She had always loved the ocean, in part because of Percy. It felt like home.

"I promised Annabeth and Hazel that I would teach them to surf, if we survive." Piper jerked her chin toward the water. "Would you want to learn?"

Madeleine nodded, smiling a little. "I don't think Percy even knows how to surf. I would love to see the look on his face if I could do something he couldn't."

Piper grinned. "He'd probably buck you off your board."

Madeleine glanced up at the cliff's summit. Despite their easy conversation, she felt deeply uneasy. She didn't want to lose Frank. He was sort of becoming like a little brother to her. She felt very warmly toward him.

The ruins of an old castle clung to the ridge. Madeleine 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.