𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, PJ2

007.4

Frank and Leo exchanged a look, silently agreeing that, yeah, this was weird.

Yesterday, Percy had been... not great. Between the whole drowning the Argo thing and whatever quiet breakdown had happened in the cabin, they'd both been ready to physically restrain him if he so much as twitched the wrong way.

And yet, here he was. Standing by the lunch table. Calm. Balanced. Stress-eating a literal tower of blue pancakes.

Leo cleared his throat. "Sooo... are we just not gonna talk about yesterday? Or are we pretending it was a shared fever dream?"

Percy, without looking up, speared another pancake, shoved it into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. Then he swallowed, licked some syrup off his thumb, and deadpanned, "No clue what you're talking about. And what the fuck is that?"

He pointed his fork outside by the docks on the city of Venice or much rather at the dozens of weird shaggy monsters milling through the crowds.

Each monster was about the size of a cow, with a bowed back like a broken-down horse, matted grey fur, skinny legs and black cloven hooves. The creatures' heads seemed much too heavy for their necks. Their long anteater-like snouts drooped to the ground. Their overgrown grey manes completely covered their eyes.

Frank watched as one of the creatures lumbered across the promenade, snuffling and licking the pavement with its long tongue. The tourists parted around it, unconcerned. A few even petted it. Frank wondered how the mortals could be so calm. Then the monster's appearance flickered. For a moment it turned into an old, fat beagle.

Jason grunted. "The mortals think they're stray dogs."

"Or pets roaming around," Piper said. "My dad shot a film in Venice once. I remember him telling me there were dogs everywhere. Venetians love dogs."

Frank frowned. He kept forgetting that Piper's dad was Tristan McLean, A-list movie star. She didn't talk about him much. She seemed pretty down-to-earth for a kid raised in Hollywood. That was fine with Frank. The last thing they needed on this quest was paparazzi taking pictures of all Frank's epic fails.

"Hey guys- Jesus fuck what are those?" Augustus cringed moving beside Percy as the older guy stuffed blue pancake in his face as well.

"Maybe they're harmless," Leo suggested. "They're ignoring the mortals."

"Harmless!" Gleeson Hedge laughed. The satyr wore his usual gym shorts, sports shirt and coach's whistle. His expression was as gruff as ever, but he still had one pink rubber band stuck in his hair from the prankster dwarfs in Bologna. Frank was kind of scared to mention it to him. "Valdez, how many harmless monsters have we met? We should just aim the ballistae and see what happens!"

"Uh, no," Leo said.

For once, Frank agreed with Leo. There were too many monsters. It would be impossible to target one without causing collateral damage to the crowds of tourists. Besides, if those creatures panicked and stampeded ...

"We'll have to walk through them and hope they're peaceful," Frank said, hating the idea already. "It's the only way we're going to track down the owner of that book."

Leo pulled the leather-bound manual from underneath his arm. He'd slapped a sticky note on the cover with the address the dwarfs in Bologna had given him.

"La Casa Nera," he read. "Calle Frezzeria."

"The Black House," Nico di Angelo translated. "Calle Frezzeria is the street."

Frank tried not to flinch when he realized Nico was at his shoulder. The guy was so quiet and brooding he almost seemed to dematerialize when he wasn't speaking. Hazel might have been the one who came back from the dead, but Nico was way more ghost-like.

"You speak Italian?" Frank asked.

Nico shot him a warning look, like: Watch the questions. And the scariness did not go away for Frank even when Percy made Nico eat the Blue pancakes. He spoke calmly after a bite. "Frank is right. We have to find that address. The only way to do it is to walk the city. Venice is a maze. We'll have to risk the crowds and those ... whatever they are."

Thunder rumbled in the clear summer sky. They'd passed through some storms the night before. Frank had thought they were over, but now he wasn't sure. The air felt as thick and warm as sauna steam.

Jason frowned at the horizon. "Maybe I should stay on board. Lots of venti in that storm last night. If they decide to attack the ship again ..."

He didn't need to finish. They'd all had experiences with angry wind spirits. Jason was the only one who had much luck fighting them.

Coach Hedge grunted. "Well, I'm out, too. If you softhearted cupcakes are going to stroll through Venice without even whacking those furry animals on the head, forget it. I don't like boring expeditions."

"It's okay, Coach." Leo grinned. "We still have to repair the foremast. Then I need your help in the engine room. I've got an idea for a new installation."

Frank didn't like the gleam in Leo's eye. Since Leo had found that Archimedes sphere, he'd been trying out a lot of 'new installations'. Usually, they exploded or sent smoke billowing upstairs into Frank's cabin.

"Well ..." Piper shifted her feet. "Whoever goes should be good with animals. I, uh ... I'll admit I'm not great with cows."

"I'm not stepping out of this ship," Percy mumbled, it sounded a bit like a whine, "I need to stop being angry, I don't think tourists are gonna help with that."

"I'm with Percy," Augustus gave them an apologetic smile.

Frank figured there was a story behind that comment, but he decided not to ask.

"I'll go," he said.

He wasn't sure why he volunteered – maybe because he was anxious to be useful for a change. Or maybe he didn't want anyone beating him to the punch. Animals? Frank can turn into animals! Send him!

Leo patted him on shoulder and handed him the leather-bound book. "Awesome. If you pass a hardware store, could you get me some two-by-fours and a gallon of tar?"

"Leo," Hazel chided, "it's not a shopping trip."

'I'll go with Frank,' Nico offered.

Frank's eye started twitching. The war gods' voices rose to a crescendo in his head: Kill him! Graecus scum!

No! I love Graecus scum!

"Uh ... you're good with animals?" he asked.

Nico smiled without humour. "Actually, most animals hate me. They can sense death. But there's something about this city ..." His expression turned grim. "Lots of death. Restless spirits. If I go, I may be able to keep them at bay. Besides, as you noticed, I speak Italian.'

Leo scratched his head. "Lots of death, huh? Personally, I'm trying to avoid lots of death, but you guys have fun!"

Frank wasn't sure what scared him more: shaggy-cow monsters, hordes of restless ghosts or going somewhere alone with Nico di Angelo.

"I'll go, too." Hazel slipped her arm through Frank's. "Three is the best number for a demigod quest, right?"

Frank tried not to look too relieved. He didn't want to offend Nico. But he glanced at Hazel and told her with his eyes: Thank you thank you thank you.

Nico stared at the canals, as if wondering what new and interesting forms of evil spirits might be lurking there. "All right, then. Let's go find the owner of that book."