The Mark of Athena

Page 33

“Not sure,” Annabeth said. “But I’ve got coordinates. Can you input latitude and longitude in this thing?”
“I can input star charts and order you a smoothie, if you want. Of course I can do latitude and longitude!”
Annabeth rattled off the numbers. Leo somehow managed to punch them in while holding the wheel with one hand. A red dot popped up on the bronze display screen.
“That location is in the middle of the Atlantic,” he said. “Do the Party Ponies have a yacht?”
Annabeth shrugged helplessly. “Just hold the ship together until we get farther from Charleston. Jason and Percy will keep up the winds!”
“Happy fun time!”
It seemed like forever, but finally the sea calmed and the winds died.
“Valdez,” said Coach Hedge, with surprising gentleness. “Let me take the wheel. You’ve been steering for two hours.”
“Two hours?”
“Yeah. Give me the wheel.”
“Coach?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“I can’t unclench my hands.”
It was true. Leo’s fingers felt like they had turned to stone. His eyes burned from staring at the horizon. His knees were marshmallows. Coach Hedge managed to pry him from the wheel.
Leo took one last look at the console, listening to Festus chatter and whir a status report. Leo felt like he was forgetting something. He stared at the controls, trying to think, but it was no good. His eyes could hardly focus. “Just watch for monsters,” he told the coach. “And be careful with the damaged stabilizer. And—”
“I’ve got it covered,” Coach Hedge promised. “Now, go away!”
Leo nodded wearily. He staggered across the deck toward his friends.
Percy and Jason sat with their backs against the mast, their heads slumped in exhaustion. Annabeth and Piper were trying to get them to drink some water.
Hazel and Frank stood just out of earshot, having an argument that involved lots of arm waving and head shaking. Leo should not have felt pleased about that, but part of him did. The other part of him felt bad that he felt pleased.
The argument stopped abruptly when Hazel saw Leo. Everybody gathered at the mast.
Frank scowled like he was trying hard to turn into a bulldog. “No sign of pursuit,” he said.
“Or land,” Hazel added. She looked a little green, though Leo wasn’t sure if that was from the rocking of the boat or from arguing.
Leo scanned the horizon. Nothing but ocean in every direction. That shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d spent six months building a ship that he knew would cross the Atlantic. But until today, their embarking on a journey to the ancient lands hadn’t seemed real. Leo had never been outside the U.S. before—except for a quick dragon flight up to Quebec. Now they were in the middle of the open sea, completely on their own, sailing to the Mare Nostrum, where all the scary monsters and nasty giants had come from. The Romans might not follow them, but they couldn’t count on any help from Camp Half-Blood, either.
Leo patted his waist to make sure his tool belt was still there. Unfortunately that just reminded him of Nemesis’s fortune cookie, tucked inside one of the pockets.
You will always be an outsider. The goddess’s voice still wriggled around in his head. The seventh wheel.
Forget her, Leo told himself. Concentrate on the stuff you can fix.
He turned to Annabeth. “Did you find the map you wanted?”
She nodded, though she looked pale. Leo wondered what she’d seen at Fort Sumter that could have shaken her up so badly.
“I’ll have to study it,” she said, as if that was the end of the subject. “How far are we from those coordinates?”
“At top rowing speed, about an hour,” Leo said. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”
“No,” she admitted. “Percy?”
Percy raised his head. His green eyes were bloodshot and droopy. “The Nereid said Chiron’s brothers were there, and they’d want to hear about that aquarium in Atlanta. I don’t know what she meant, but…” He paused, like he’d used up all his energy saying that much. “She also warned me to be careful. Keto, the goddess at the aquarium: she’s the mother of sea monsters. She might be stuck in Atlanta, but she can still send her children after us. The Nereid said we should expect an attack.”
“Wonderful,” Frank muttered.
Jason tried to stand, which wasn’t a good idea. Piper grabbed him to keep him from falling over, and he slid back down the mast.
“Can we get the ship aloft?” he asked. “If we could fly—”
“That’d be great,” Leo said. “Except Festus tells me the port aerial stabilizer got pulverized when the ship raked against the dock at Fort Sumter.”
“We were in a hurry,” Annabeth said. “Trying to save you.”
“And saving me is a very noble cause,” Leo agreed. “I’m just saying, it’ll take some time to fix. Until then, we’re not flying anywhere.”
Percy flexed his shoulders and winced. “Fine with me. The sea is good.”
“Speak for yourself.” Hazel glanced at the evening sun, which was almost to the horizon. “We need to go fast. We’ve burned another day, and Nico only has three more left.”
“We can do it,” Leo promised. He hoped Hazel had forgiven him for not trusting her brother (hey, it had seemed like a reasonable suspicion to Leo), but he didn’t want to reopen that wound. “We can make it to Rome in three days—assuming, you know, nothing unexpected happens.”
Frank grunted. He looked like he was still working on that bulldog transformation. “Is there any good news?”
“Actually, yes,” Leo said. “According to Festus, our flying table, Buford, made it back safely while we were in Charleston, so those eagles didn’t get him. Unfortunately, he lost the laundry bag with your pants.”
“Dang it!” Frank barked, which Leo figured was probably severe profanity for him.
No doubt Frank would’ve cursed some more—busting out the golly gees and the gosh darns—but Percy interrupted by doubling over and groaning.
“Did the world just turn upside down?” he asked.
Jason pressed his hands to his head. “Yeah, and it’s spinning. Everything is yellow. Is it supposed to be yellow?”
Annabeth and Piper exchanged concerned looks.
“Summoning that storm really sapped your strength,” Piper told the boys. “You’ve got to rest.”
Annabeth nodded agreement. “Frank, can you help us get the guys belowdecks?”
Frank glanced at Leo, no doubt reluctant to leave him alone with Hazel.
“It’s fine, man,” Leo said. “Just try not to drop them on the way down the stairs.”
Once the others were below, Hazel and Leo faced each other awkwardly. They were alone except for Coach Hedge, who was back on the quarterdeck singing the Pokémon theme song. The coach had changed the words to: Gotta Kill ’Em All, and Leo really didn’t want to know why.
The song didn’t seem to help Hazel’s nausea.
“Ugh…” She leaned over and hugged her sides. She had nice hair—frizzy and golden brown like curls of cinnamon. Her hair reminded Leo of a place in Houston that made excellent churros. The thought made him hungry.
“Don’t lean over,” he advised. “Don’t close your eyes. It makes the queasiness worse.”
“It does? Do you get seasick too?”
“Not seasick. But cars make me nauseous, and…”
He stopped himself. He wanted to say talking to girls, but he decided to keep that to himself.
“Cars?” Hazel straightened with difficulty. “You can sail a ship or fly a dragon, but cars make you sick?”
“I know, right?” Leo shrugged. “I’m special that way. Look, keep your eyes on the horizon. That’s a fixed point. It’ll help.”
Hazel took a deep breath and stared into the distance. Her eyes were lustrous gold, like the copper and bronze disks inside Festus’s mechanical head.
“Any better?” he asked.
“Maybe a little.” She sounded like she was just being polite. She kept her eyes on the horizon, but Leo got the feeling she was gauging his mood, considering what to say.
“Frank didn’t drop you on purpose,” she said. “He’s not like that. He’s just a little clumsy sometimes.”
“Oops,” Leo said, in his best Frank Zhang voice. “Dropped Leo into a squad of enemy soldiers. Dang it!”
Hazel tried to suppress a smile. Leo figured smiling was better than throwing up.
“Go easy on him,” Hazel said. “You and your fireballs make Frank nervous.”
“The guy can turn into an elephant, and I make him nervous?”
Hazel kept her eyes on the horizon. She didn’t look quite so queasy, despite the fact that Coach Hedge was still singing his Pokémon song at the helm.
“Leo,” she said, “about what happened at the Great Salt Lake…”
Here it comes, Leo thought.
He remembered their meeting with the revenge goddess Nemesis. The fortune cookie in his tool belt started to feel heavier. Last night, as they flew from Atlanta, Leo had lain in his cabin and thought about how angry he’d made Hazel. He had thought about ways he could make it right.
Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, Nemesis had said, though I could help you…for a price.
Leo had taken the fortune cookie out of his tool belt and turned it in his fingers, wondering what price he would have to pay if he broke it open.
Maybe now was the moment.
“I’d be willing,” he told Hazel. “I could use the fortune cookie to find your brother.”
Hazel looked stunned. “What? No! I mean…I’d never ask you to do that. Not after what Nemesis said about the horrible cost. We barely know each other!”
The barely know each other comment kind of hurt, though Leo knew it was true.
“So…that’s not what you wanted to talk about?” he asked. “Uh, did you want to talk about the holding-hands-on-the-boulder moment? Because—”
“No!” she said quickly, fanning her face in that cute way she did when she was flustered. “No, I was just thinking about the way you tricked Narcissus and those nymphs…”
“Oh, right.” Leo glanced self-consciously at his arm. The HOT STUFF tattoo hadn’t completely faded. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“You were amazing,” Hazel said. “I’ve been mulling it over, how much you reminded me of—”
“Sammy,” Leo guessed. “I wish you’d tell me who he is.”
“Who he was,” Hazel corrected. The evening air was warm, but she shivered. “I’ve been thinking…I might be able to show you.”
“You mean like a photo?”
“No. There’s a sort of flashback that happens to me. I haven’t had one in a long time, and I’ve never tried to make one happen on purpose. But I shared one with Frank once, so I thought…”