Meg, Apollo, Hazel, Lavinia

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On my side, Hazel ignored her veggie wrap and grumbled to herself. "Can't believe Frank . . . Trying to volunteer . . . Bad enough after his crazy stunts in the battle . . ."

Nearby, having already ploughed through her lunch, Meg aided her digestion by doing cartwheels. Every time she landed, catching her balance on the loose tiles, my heart climbed further up my throat.

"Meg, could you please not do that?" I asked.

"It's fun." She fixed her eyes on the horizon and announced, "I want a unicorn." Then she cartwheeled again.

Lavinia muttered to no one in particular, "You popped a bubble - you'll be perfect for this quest!"

"Why do I have to like a guy with a death wish?" Hazel mused.

"Meg," I pleaded, "you're going to fall."

"Even a small unicorn," Meg said. "Not fair they have so many and I don't have any."

We continued this four-part disharmony until a giant eagle swooped out of the sky, snatched the last of the grilled cheese from Lavinia's hand, leaving behind a flock of irritated seagulls.

"Typical." Lavinia wiped her fingers on her trousers. "Can't even have a sandwich,"

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