Prince of Riptide

dancing in my storm

Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

Percy couldn't agree with him more, not only did Hades know about him now, but so did Zeus. The explosion of glass windows still rang in his ears. But Annabeth kept pulling them along, saying, "Come on! The farther away we get, the better."

"All our things were back there," Percy reminded her.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—"

"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed? I may not like you very much, but that just would've been low."

"You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine."

"Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover chimed in, "but fine."

"Shut up, goat boy," said Annabeth.

Grover brayed mournfully, muttering about tin cans.

After a few minutes of sloshing around in the mud, Annabeth fell in line next to Percy. "Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave. And now I can't believe I just said that."

Percy chuckled. "I can't just leave my companions behind, can't I? Besides, you saved me from that hellhound."

"Because you helped me beat Clarisse. And technically I didn't save you from it. Chiron did. I just warned you to run which you didn't do because your stupid ass wants to prove you can be a hero or whatever."

Percy snorted. "That sounds weird. But still, I owe you twice for that, I guess. They were fur—"

"Don't say their name."

"Right. Sorry."

She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just, well...it would suck for you to die, obviously, but most importantly it would mean the quest was over."

"How considerate," Percy said sarcastically.

"Well, why else would I volunteer? This may be my only chance to see the real world. I haven't left since I was seven."

The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind, leaving them in almost total darkness

"You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" he asked her.

"Are you deaf?"

Percy cocked his head. "I don't know. But you've told me once or twice."

She shook her head. "To answer your question, no. Only on short trips."

"At least we have something in common."

Annabeth made a face. "Ugh. No, actually. You just became a poxy prince. I ran away."

"Oh. Damn, that young?"

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half Blood is my home." He was surprised by how much she was willing to open up, the words just rushed out of her mouth. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not."

Annabeth sounded doubtful, but to Percy there was truth in what she'd said. "You're pretty good with that knife," he admitted.

"You think so?"

"Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Kindly One is okay by me."

Percy couldn't really see, but he thought he might've finally made her smile.