𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 • Heroes of Olympus

I

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 was ready for whatever the Romans had to throw their way, but the exploding statue was not it.

Ever since they'd boarded the ship the day before, Annabeth had been pacing the deck. Every other minute, she'd call a meeting to review the plan, the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan.

Her jittering must've been contagious, because Jason now stood glued to the starboard rail, trembling all over. Over his jeans and orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he’d donned a toga and a purple cloak—symbols of his old rank as praetor. His knuckles were white on his gladius. Andy sincerely hoped he wouldn't start spewing lightning everywhere.

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would’ve been satisfied with a pilot’s wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was on another level.

Andy stood at the ship's centre, checking if the ballistae were locked down. She confirmed their White Flag of Peace™ was nice and visible. She checked her reflection on the metal cannon. Her hair was braided over one shoulder, and she'd put in a Laurel pin in the braid. Annabeth hadn't let her wear her I Love Rome t-shirt, so she'd worn a white shirt with a smiling yellow sun on it.

Everything seemed to be in order. Even that mysterious chill Andy’d been feeling since the ship launched had dissipated, at least for now.

As they approached the Roman camp, Andy caught Annabeth leading Coach Gleeson Hedge to the lower deck, possibly to encourage him to take the morning off in his cabin. The war-crazed stayr had shown up to be their chaperone the previous morning, and despite the development of things between him and Mellie, Hedge was as violent as always. The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling “Die!”

Even without the blood-thirsty satyr, the Argo II definitely did not look friendly. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete… well, it wasn’t the most appropriate ride for a meet-and-greet with the neighbors.

They had tried to give the Romans a heads-up. Leo had sent one of his special  inventions—a holographic scroll—to alert their friends inside the camp. Hopefully the message had gotten through. Leo had wanted to paint a giant message on the bottom of the hull—WASSUP? with a smiley face—but Annabeth vetoed the idea. She claimed the Romans might not have a sense of humor, but Andy was starting to doubt if Annabeth had lost hers.

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. Andy gripped the mainmast as the ship tilted downwards.

Shakily, Jason walked over to take his place at the bow, where the Romans could easily see him. Despite the trembles, he looked strangely calm for someone who was being a target. He’d grown up at Camp Jupiter, so hopefully his familiar face would make the Romans hesitant to blow the ship out of the sky.

Andy felt it again—that familiar shiver, as if a psychotic snowman had crept up behind her and was breathing down her neck. She turned, but no one was there.

Dread clawed at her throat. That chill…

No, she told herself. Khione can't be here.

The cold pressed closer. She thought she heard a faint voice in the wind, laughing. Every muscle in her body tensed. Something was about to go terribly wrong.