𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆.

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riley doesn't like mosquitos, or frizzy hair

riley doesn't like mosquitos, or frizzy hair

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we zipped along the water at jet-ski speed.

the wind from the thermos stirred up a nice sea spray that made a rainbow in the sunlight perfect for an iris-message — but our connection was still poor. when annabeth threw a gold drachma into the mist and prayed for the rainbow goddess to show us chiron, his face appeared all right, but there was some kind of weird strobe light flashing in the background and rock music blaring, like he was at a dance club. or one of my dad's parties.

we told him about sneaking away from camp, and luke and the princess andromeda and the golden sarcophagus for kronos's remains, but between the noise on his end and the rushing wind and water on our end, i'm not sure how much he heard.

"percy," chiron yelled, "you have to watch out for—"

his voice was drowned out by loud shouting behind him-a bunch of voices whooping it up like comanche warriors.

"what?" percy yelled.

"curse my relatives!" chiron ducked as a plate flew over his head and shattered somewhere out of sight. "annabeth, riley, you shouldn't have let percy leave camp! but if you do get the fleece—"

"yeah, baby!" somebody behind chiron yelled. "woo-hoooooo!"

the music got cranked up, subwoofers so loud it made our boat vibrate.

"—miami," chiron was yelling. "i'll try to keep watch—"

our misty screen smashed apart like someone on the other side had thrown a bottle at it, and chiron was gone.

an hour later we spotted land — a long stretch of beach lined with high-rise hotels. the water became crowded with fishing boats and tankers. a coast guard cruiser passed on our starboard side, then turned like it wanted a second look. 

i guess it isn't every day they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour, manned by four kids.

"that's virginia beach!" annabeth said as we approached the shoreline. 

𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 - p.jacksonWhere stories live. Discover now