Pretty isn't Pretty - Jason Grace

I.XIII.

.
TW : mention of self harm in the last segment bracketed with •

Part one. Chapter thirteen.

Intervention, oh intervention. Where art thou, intervention ?

.

Aris poked herself in the eye with her mascara wand when a loud ship horn echoed. At first she wondered if it was Leo. That he found out about her and Jason's fight and decided to punish everyone just to punish her for hurting his best friend (though, she knew for a fact that Reyna would always be more Jason's best friend than Leo).

But then it boomed again. And it sounded like it was coming from several hundred yards away—from another vessel.

She was already dressed and mostly made up so she just pulled one her shoes and rushed up onto the deck. The others were also gathering up there, all hastily dressed or only half dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch.

Frank's Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel's hair was all blown to one side, as though she'd walked through a cyclone ; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking. Jason hadn't even bothered with a shirt, his sweatpants sitting on his hipbones.

Aris tried not to look at him. His hair was a mess which somehow still looked good. And his eyes, they were red. Like he had been crying.

Aris jumped when she felt something next to her. She let out a sigh of relief when she noticed it was just Percy, having thrown his arm over her shoulders. She leaned against him, needing all the comfort she could get as they watch a massive cruise ship glided past, about a hundred yards to port. Tourists waved at them from fifteen or sixteen rows of balconies. Some smiled and took pictures. None of them looked surprised to see an Ancient Greek trireme. Maybe the Mist made it look like a fishing boat, or perhaps the cruisers thought the Argo II was a tourist attraction.

The cruise ship blew its horn again, and the Argo II had a shaking fit.

Coach Hedge plugged his ears. "Do they have to be so loud ?"

"They're just saying hi," Frank speculated.

"WHAT ?" Hedge yelled back.

The ship edged past them, heading out to sea. The tourists kept waving. If they found it strange that the Argo II was populated by half-asleep kids in armor and pajamas and a man with goat legs, they didn't let on.

"Bye !" Leo called, raising his smoking hand.

"Can I man the ballistae ?" Hedge asked.

"Yes," Aris groaned at the same time as Leo forced a smile and said, "No."

They shot each other a look before Leo tilted his head. "What happened to your hand ?"

"Nothing." She quickly hid her badly bandaged hand behind her back.

"Ari—"

"It's nothing," she snapped before clearing her throat and looking around. "Where are we ?"

Hazel rubbed her eyes and looked across the glittering green water. "Oh...Wow."

Aris followed her gaze and felt her jaw drop ever so slightly. Without the cruise ship blocking their view, she saw a mountain jutting from the sea less than half a mile to the north. It was a massive fist of blinding white rock thrust into the sky. On one side, the limestone cliffs were almost completely sheer, dropping into the sea over a thousand feet below. On the other side, the mountain sloped in tiers, covered in green forest, so that the whole thing reminded Aris of a colossal sphinx, worn down over the millennia, with a massive white head and chest, and a green cloak over its back.