𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀, percy jackson!

𝐈𝐕. oh, here we go again (the dreams)

Act two : Chapter four!

༄.°

Tantalus accused them of ruining the race with their chaotic chariot driving. He told them that the birds had been minding their own business and that Annabeth, Adira, Percy and Tyson provoked them to attack.

So obviously, after Percy told him to go chase a doughnut and Adira called him a starved moron, he assigned them to kitchen patrol-scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. 

The harpies washed with real lava instead of water to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs. Percy, scrubbing next to her with asbestos gloves, smirked at Adira. "Well, at least your OCD-self doesn't have to worry about germs anymore."

Adira shot him a sharp look, rolling her eyes. "I'm not OCD, you dumbass. Besides, what you just said fits a germaphobe, and you probably don't even know what that is, because the pigeons must've picked out your last two brain cells." She smiled and tightened her gloves.

Next to them, Tyson plunged his bare hands straight into the molten lava without a second thought, scrubbing away like it was nothing. Adira couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Talk about having an advantage.

Percy, still grinning, leaned in closer. "One day," he mused, "you'll admit it. You're definitely OCD."

"Wrong, because I'm not!" Adira shot back.

"Sure."

Adira shot him a warning glance, her hand hovering just above the molten dishwater, ready to splash him with lava. Annabeth, who had been watching them from the corner of her eye, stepped in and stopped her from doing so.

They all went back to scrubbing dishes, a chore made worse by the fact that Tantalus ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's and Malachi's chariot victory-a-full-course. His words, not Adira's.

But that gave the three of them time to discuss Percy's dream about Grover. And the more Adira believed him and knew what he was talking about, the more the feeling of a cold shadow washed over her.

"If he's really found it, and if we could retrieve it—" Annabeth began, the words spilling out in a rush.

"Hold on," Percy interrupted, frowning. "You act like this... whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save the camp. What is it?"

Annabeth's eyes flickered to the brunette next to her, because it was Adira who spoke first, "What do you get when you skin a ram?"

"Huh?" Percy blinked.

"Just answer the question."

"Messy?"

She sighed.

Annabeth continued. "A fleece, Percy. The coat of a ram is called a fleece. And if that ram happens to have golden wool-"

Percy's eyes widened. "The Golden Fleece. Are you serious?"

Annabeth scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. "Percy, remember the Gray Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mentioned Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told him how to find the Golden Fleece. You do know the story of Jason and the Argonauts?"

"Oh, I love his story," Adira smiled.

"Yeah, that old movie with the clay skeletons," Percy added, almost in sync with her, their voices overlapping as they spoke at the same time.