SEQUAL TO EVERYWHERE EVERYTHING
BOOK TWO OF THREE !!!
Mitchell didn't expect to wake up from a nightmare, only to find himself in a real one. When he finds Percy's bed empty in the middle of the night, he freaks out.
Mitchell will do whatever it tak...
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MITCHELL HAD HEARD OF SOMEONE'S LIFE flashing before his eyes. But he didn't think it would be like this. Standing with his friends in a defensive ring, surrounded by giants, then looking up at an impossible vision in the sky — Mitchell could very clearly picture himself fifty years in the future.
He imagined himself older, a lot older, around seventy years or more. He was sitting on a couch inside a nice cosy house, four children sitting in front of him. Mitchell imagined Percy sitting next to him, his handsome smirk reduced to smile lines and a grandpa grin, but he was still as pretty as ever.
Mitchell imagined himself recounting the day he was currently in; giants everywhere, Percy being an idiot and not wiping his bloody nose. It was all so surreal. Mitchell somehow knew these were his grandchildren, two looked suspiciously like Jade, and the other two he couldn't recognise. Mitchell had a family — a family with Percy.
No, I'm serious, he said. Just seven demigods on the ground and one more in a burning ship above the Acropolis. We were surrounded by thirty-foot-tall giants who were about to kill us. Then the sky opened up and the gods descended!
Granddad, the kids said, you are full of shit.
I'm not kidding! he protested. The Olympian gods came charging out of the heavens on their war chariots, trumpets blaring, swords flaming. Ugly old Zeus, the king of the gods, led the charge, a javelin of pure electricity crackling in his hand!
His grandkids laughed at him. And Percy glanced over, smiling, like 'Would you believe it, if you hadn't been there?'
But Mitchell was there. He looked up as the clouds parted over the Acropolis. Instead of blue skies, he saw black space spangled with stars, the palaces of Mount Olympus gleaming silver and gold in the background. And an army of gods charged down from on high. It was too much to process. And it was probably better for his health that he didn't see it all. Only later would Mitchell be able to remember bits and pieces.
There was supersized Zeus in his original form — riding into battle in a golden chariot, a lightning bolt the size of a telephone pole crackling in one hand. Pulling his chariot were four horses made of wind, each constantly shifting from equine to human form, trying to break free. For a split second, one took on the icy visage of Boreas.
Another wore Notus's swirling crown of fire and steam. A third flashed the smug lazy smile of Zephyrus. Zeus had bound and harnessed the four wind gods themselves. On the underbelly of the Argo Il, the glass bay doors split open. The goddess Nike tumbled out, free from her golden net. She spread her glittering wings and soared to Zeus's side, taking her rightful place as his charioteer.
