𝑴𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺 • 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐶𝑌 𝐽𝐴𝐶𝐾𝑆𝑂𝑁

XIV

At the edge of the dump, the group found a tow truck so old it might've been thrown away itself. But the engine started, and it had a full tank of gas, so they decided to borrow it.

Thalia drove. She didn't seem as stunned as everyone else.

"The skeletons are still out there," she reminded them. "We need to keep moving."

She navigated them through the desert, under clear blue skies, the sand so bright it hurt to look at. Zoe sat up front with Thalia. Grover, Elaine, and Percy sat in the pickup bed, leaning against the tow wench. The air was cool and dry, but the nice weather just seemed like an insult after losing Bianca.

Elaine's hand closed around the little figurine that had cost her life. She couldn't even tell what god it was supposed to be. Nico would know.

Her heart dropped. What were they going to tell Nico?

"It should've been me," Percy said, watching Elaine's eyes tear up at the sight of the figurine. "I should've gone into the giant."

"Don't say that!" Grover panicked. "It's bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if ..." He sniffled. "Do you think anybody else would be my best friend?"

"Ah, Grover ..."

He wiped under his eyes with an oily cloth that left his face grimy, like he had on war paint. "I'm ... I'm okay."

But he wasn't okay. Ever since the encounter in New Mexico—whatever had happened when that wild wind blew through—he seemed really fragile, even more emotional than Elaine was used to seeing him. She was afraid to talk to him about it, because he might start bawling.

The tow truck ran out of gas at the edge of a river canyon. That was just as well, because the road dead-ended.

Thalia got out and slammed the door. Immediately, one of the tires blew. "Great. What now?"

Elaine scanned the horizon. There wasn't much to see.

Desert in all directions, occasional clumps of barren mountains here and there. The canyon was the only thing interesting. The river itself wasn't very big, maybe fifty yards across, green water with a few rapids, but it carved a huge scar out of the desert. The rock cliffs dropped away below them.

"There's a path," Grover said. "We could get to the river."

Elaine tried to see what he was talking about, and finally noticed a tiny ledge winding down the cliff face. "That's a goat path," she said.

"So?" he asked.

"The rest of us aren't goats, Grover."

"We can make it," he said. "I think."

"No," Percy said. "I, uh, think we should go farther upstream."

Grover said, "But—"

"Come on," he said. "A walk won't hurt us."