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chapter eleven. ( titan's curse ) ❝ the bane of olympus! ❞
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Can I say I'm still angry at Percy?
Well, yeah! I get it, I died, everyone thought I was dead, and then I came back. No one wanted me to die again—I don't want to die again. However, that doesn't mean I don't want to be looked after like some fragile china vase that was half on and half off the bookcase. No. I'm still capable of fighting monsters by myself. I'm still capable of walking by myself. I'm capable of a lot more than people seem to realise, or remember.
So yeah, I am still angry at Percy. Which meant there was the causal little insult thrown between us, before complete tense silence. If he thinks I can't handle things by myself, I'll show him otherwise. Which means, I'm walking by myself, I'm talking to Thalia, and I'm completely ignoring you (unless I come up with a good comeback from something that you said, because then I'll ruthlessly call you out with no context).
The angels dropped us off at San Francisco, scaring a homeless man who screamed and ran, shouting something about metal angels from Mars.
As we began to walk—aimlessly, really. We had reached the West Coast the day before the solstice. What we do now ... none of us knew. So we walked to the docs, thinking that something might show itself. Who knows. It was Percy's stupid idea—Thalia asked Percy:
"How did you get away from the skeletons in the generator room, anyway? You said they cornered you."
Percy told us about this weird mortal that helped him; Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I don't know why, but the thought of her helping him made me boil even more in anger. How could a mortal help him? Why was she special?
"How the hell did she help you?" I crossed my arms. "She's a mortal."
Percy frowned. "You say it like its a bad thing."
"Well, considering you nearly killed her if it wasn't for your sword not being able to hurt mortals." I narrowed my eyes. "You practically just told a mortal you were a demigod!"
"She could see through the mist," he said. "I would be dead if it wasn't for her."
In the back of my mind, a small voice in my brain said: Well you would be dead if I hadn't died for you so... "Whatever."
