𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 • Heroes of Olympus

V

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄, in fact, not going Andy's way.

After the exorcism and dinner, Percy had pulled Andy away to apologize for the possessed attack. It almost seemed like they could finally talk things out, but that stupid, stupid Percy somehow managed to turn the conversation to Leo. The argument escalated so fast Andy had to leave before they ended up waking the whole ship.

Now, lying in her bed, Andy felt beyond awful. Through unspilled tears, the glow-in-the dark stars on her ceiling blurred into dots. On her bed stand, her dragon clock ticked steadily. 

It had been Leo's birthday present for her. He'd snuck out at midnight to give her his handmade gift, only to end up joining the Apollo cabin's super secret birthday party for Andy.

“Now my Valkyrie can tell time at night too,” he'd said with a grin that could light up the whole camp. “Who needs the sun, right?”

A single tear ran down Andy's face. She couldn't remember when Leo had last called her Valkyrie. Maybe it didn't mean anything. Maybe he just didn't have the need to address her. But it didn't change the fact that she missed it.

The tears were now flowing out shamelessly. Andy scrunched her eyes shut. She spun her cold silver ring around her finger, trying to distract herself, hoping sleep would come quicker, if only to get this suffocating pain off her chest.

***

Sleep, however, turned out to be the wrong thing to wish for.

Before Andy knew it, she was having horrible nightmares. She stood in a vast gloomy space like an underground parking garage. Rows of stone pillars marched off in every direction, holding up the ceiling about twenty feet above. Freestanding braziers cast a dim red glow over the floor.

Andy couldn’t see very far in the shadows, but hanging from the ceiling were pulley systems, sandbags, and rows of dark theater lights. Piled around the chamber, wooden crates were labeled PROPS, WEAPONS, and COSTUMES. One read: ASSORTED ROCKET LAUNCHERS.

Andy heard machinery creaking in the darkness, huge gears turning, and water rushing through pipes.

Then she saw the giant… or at least Andy guessed that he was a giant.

He was about twelve feet tall—a respectable height for a Cyclops, but only half as tall as Enceladus. He also looked more human than a typical giant, without the dragonlike legs of his larger kin. Nevertheless, his long purple hair was braided in a ponytail of dreadlocks, woven with gold and silver coins, which struck Andy as a giantish hairstyle. He had a ten-foot spear strapped to his back—a giantish weapon.

He wore the largest black turtleneck Andy had ever seen, black pants, and black leather shoes with points so long and curly, they might have been jester slippers. He paced back and forth in front of a raised platform, examining a bronze jar about the size of Andy.

“No, no, no,” the giant muttered to himself. “Where’s the splash? Where’s the value?” He yelled into the darkness, “Otis?”

Andy heard something shuffling in the distance. Another giant appeared out of the gloom. He wore exactly the same black outfit, right down to the curly shoes. The only difference between the two giants was that the second one’s hair was green rather than purple.

The first giant cursed. “Otis, why do you do this to me every day? I told you I was wearing the black turtleneck today. You could wear anything but the black turtleneck!”

Otis blinked as if he’d just woken up. “I thought you were wearing the yellow toga today.”

“That was yesterday! When you showed up in the yellow toga!”