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The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, their train rolled into Denver. They hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. They hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and Bronte was sure that was obvious.
"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."
"We can't use phones, right?" Bronte asked.
"I'm not talking about phones."
"Right, of course. Silly me," she said, looking to Percy only to see him already looking at her.
They wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though Bronte wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere they turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at them, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.
Finally, they found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. They veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping their eyes open for patrol cars. They were five adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure they were up to no good.
"What exactly are we doing?" Bronte asked, crossing her arms over her chest, as Grover took out the spray gun.
"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?"
"Don't look at me," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "The dining car wiped me out."
Bronte sighed, digging into her jacket pocket and pulling out a lone quarter. She hadn't used it on the train, but was starting to wish she did.
"Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."
"What are you talking about?" Percy asked, narrowing his eyes.
Grover fed the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing."
"Instant messaging?" Bronte asked confusedly, furrowed her brows.
"Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."
"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?"
Grover handed the spray gun to Cooper, who pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow," the brunette shrugged.
Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.
Annabeth held her palm out to Bronte. "Drachma, please."
She handed it over.
Annabeth raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering." She threw the drachma into the rainbow and it disappeared in a golden shimmer. "Half-Blood Hill."
