ENTRAPPED ₂

105

AT LEAST NICO HADN'T TELEPORTED THEM TO DEADLY HEIGHTS THIS TIME!

Instead, they only appeared ten feet in the air, hovering over a restaurant courtyard. Ethan, Reyna, and Nico dropped onto a large birdcage, which promptly broke, dumping them into a cluster of potted ferns along with three very alarmed parrots. The Athena Parthenos landed on her feet with a THUMP, flattening a patio table and flipping a dark green umbrella, which settled onto the Nike statue on Athena's hand, so the goddess of wisdom looked like she was holding a tropical drink.

"Well," Ethan said. "Nice job, Nico, although next time I would prefer to land on the ground. We'll work on it, kid."

Truthfully, Ethan shouldn't criticize. Nico had gotten them a place on a nice cruise ship yesterday instead of smack dab in the middle of the Atlantic, where they all would have doubtlessly drowned. Reyna had stitched up Nico's and Ethan's werewolf scratches, and then Reyna and Ethan had spent the day on the lido deck of the Azores Queen, shooing little kids off the Athena Parthenos, which they seemed to think was a waterslide. Ethan, who had an eyepatch and whose bare chest was marred with scratches, did a better job at it than Reyna. Still, being on a cruise ship had reminded Ethan of Luke's early days, when he had briefly been on the son of Hermes's side. Thank gods the Princess Andromeda was a pile of ash, and bless Charlie Beckendorf's deceased soul for doing it.

So it was safe to say that Ethan was happy to be off of the ship.

"Don't call me kid," Nico grumbled, dragging himself out of the ferns. He collapsed in the nearest chair and waved off a blue parrot that was trying to land on his head. After the fight with Lycaon, Nico had discarded his shredded aviator jacket, a fact that had pained him, since he had been wearing that thing since before Ethan had known him. His black skull-pattern shirt wasn't in much better shape, but both Nico and Ethan had agreed that they didn't want to be shirtless, so they were both wearing shreds. The gashes on Nico's biceps gave him a slightly creepy Frankenstein look that matched perfectly with Ethan's cuts, which were in clear view whenever his shirt rode up. According to Reyna, werewolf claw marks wouldn't transmit lycanthropy, but they healed slowly and burned like acid. Thus far, all of those things were proving to be true.

"I've gotta sleep." Nico looked up in a daze. "Are we safe?"

Ethan and Reyna both scanned the courtyard. The place seemed deserted, though the restaurant didn't look abandoned or anything. Above them, the evening sky glowed a murky terracotta, the same color as the building's walls. Ringing the atrium, the second-story balconies were empty except for potted azaleas hanging from the white metal railings. Behind a wall of glass doors, the restaurant's interior was dark. The only sound was the fountain gurgling forlornly and the occasional squawk of a disgruntled parrot.

"This is Barrachina," Reyna said, sounding slightly sick.

Ethan glanced at her. "How did you know that?"

"It's a famous restaurant," Reyna said evasively, "in the middle of Old San Juan. They invented the pina colada here, back in the 1960s, I think."

"Fascinating," Ethan said, with as much relish as he could muster without being a complete asshole. "How did you know that?"

The ghost of a smile crossed Reyna's face. "Maybe I like history."

"Nobody knows that many bullshit random facts," Ethan said. "Well, unless you're Annabeth Chase. Which you, I regret to inform you, are not."

Their conversation was interrupted by Nico. The son of Hades pitched out of his chair, curled up on the floor, and started snoring.

"Well, I hope we're safe," Ethan said.