The Sea Tyrant's Obsession (PJO x ROR) 18+ WTM/WTS Book 1

*We Get A Surprise On Miami Beach

Hermes nodded and replied to Dionysus. "Most likely. She did pray to the gods in that world, saying that if the Fleece worked to heal Anthony, she would tell him he's a genius."

Poseidon scowled at the thought of the boy receiving any praise from Percilla.

New title appears on the screen:

We Get A Surprise On Miami Beach

The gods leaned forward in their seats, murmuring among themselves.

"Hmm... a surprise?" Zeus muttered, frowning. "Do you think it's something good or something... troublesome?"

Apollo said, "Knowing how these things usually go, it could be exciting. Or disastrous."

Hades crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "I'd bet on troublesome. Nothing ever goes smoothly for them, does it?"

Poseidon silently hoped it wasn't something bad for his daughter.

"Percy, wake up."

Salt water splashed my face. Anthony was shaking my shoulder.

In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. I could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"Miami, I think," Anthony said. "But the hippocampi are acting funny."

Sure enough, our fishy friends had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look happy. One of them sneezed. I could tell what they were thinking.

"Aww, look at them sneeze," Sekhmet, the Egyptian goddess of medicine, cooed.

"They're like anxious little children," Frigg remarked.

"They're absolutely precious—half horse, half fish, and still adorable," Aphrodite gushed, clasping her hands together with delight.

"This is as far as they'll take us," I said. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

The gods scowl at the disgusting mortals ruining the environment wherever they touched, especially the nature, elemental, and sea deities.

The Tyrant's face darkened, his grip tightening on the armrests of his throne. "Those parasites defile every drop of the seas with their poison," he sneered. "If my counterpart had any sense, he would drown them in their own filth."

None of us was very psyched about that, but we thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said good-bye.

Seeing the sadness in the young Cyclops' single eye, many gods felt a pang of sympathy for him.

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, we swam for shore. The waves pushed us forward, and in no time we were back in the mortal world. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us—five teens dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster—they didn't let on.

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.