Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

013, blades of grass dni

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FINLEY           BRIGGS

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Finn had never been in a boat before. Or anywhere overseas.

For the first six years of her life, she lived in the mountainous state of Colorado. She was really young back then, didn't really remember as much as she wanted to, but she did know it was the best her life would ever be. It was just Finn and her single mother, Isla Briggs, and it was the last time Finn felt truly calm.

Inherently, Finn's blood ran wild. She had an instinctive urge for madness. Yet somehow, Isla Briggs had the ability to bring out the tranquility in Finn. She was just a mortal, yet so powerful in Finn's eyes.

Finn's birth was a drunken accident, as ironic as it sounded. Bacchus had found Isla at one of her friends' stupid engagement parties. Isla had a few too many to drink, and Bacchus always had a few too many to drink, so one thing led to another, and suddenly Finley Briggs was born.

There was a quote somewhere out there saying, Some children are simply born with tragedy in their blood. Well, Finn was simply born with alcohol in hers (and maybe a little bit of tragedy). 

She wished she had a more personal story than that. She also knew that it made perfect sense: Finley Briggs was a mistake. Finley Briggs wan't supposed to be here. Finley Briggs was just a product of drunkenness and inconsideration.

Finley Briggs was born, and so her mother consequentially died.

The wolves found Finn after that, as what happened to all Roman demigods. When they traveled to the Wolf House, it most certainly wasn't done by sailing. When Finn found her way to Camp Jupiter, that wasn't done by sailing either. So Finn was completely new to this whole "cruising along in a dingy boat while cramped next to the new guy and miserable because you're prohibited from drinking more wine" thing.

Luckily her seasickness wasn't as bad as Hazel's—who, quite frankly (hah, Frankly), looked the same as she did when she saw Finn's nose ring for the first time. Like she was going to pass out.

The unfortunate part, though, was that Finn did feel nauseous. This always happened when she withdrew from the alcohol for a little bit, but now it was made worse by the rockiness of the boat they sailed in. She just knew it wouldn't be long before her head started pounding. Then the sickness would take over.

Finn hoped she got a moment to herself soon. That way, she could down a good bit of wine without anyone noticing.

Wow. She really needed to get a grip. She wasn't even fully sober yet—they'd only just passed the piers along the San Francisco Embarcadero—and she was already daydreaming about breaking her sobriety.

They sped by a pack of sea lions lounging on the docks, and she swore she saw an old homeless guy sitting among them. From across the water, the old man pointed a bony finger at Percy and mouthed something like Don't even think about it.

"Did you see that?" Hazel asked. Her seasickness was now something close to sea plague.

Percy's face was red in the sunset. "Yeah. I've been here before. I... I don't know. I think I was with my girlfriend. She was... laughing at me. I'd give anything for that laugh."