The Mark of Athena

She didn’t say the obvious: even all of them together wouldn’t be enough, unless they had a god on their side. Percy decided not to bring that up.

“Good idea,” Percy said. “How about we plan to meet back here at…what?”

“Three this afternoon?” Jason suggested. “That’s probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris-message.”

The others nodded in agreement, but Percy noticed several of them glancing at Annabeth. Another thing no one wanted to say: Annabeth would be on a different schedule. She might be back at three, or much later, or never. But she would be on her own, searching for the Athena Parthenos.

Coach Hedge grunted. “That’ll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Annabeth…I don’t like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over.”

The idea of getting grounded when they were about to risk their lives was so ridiculous, Percy couldn’t help smiling.

“We’ll be back soon,” he promised. He looked around at his friends, trying not to feel like this was the last time they’d ever be together. “Good luck, everyone.”

Leo lowered the gangplank, and Percy and Annabeth were first off the ship.

UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES, wandering through Rome with Annabeth would have been pretty awesome. They held hands as they navigated the winding streets, dodging cars and crazy Vespa drivers, squeezing through mobs of tourists, and wading through oceans of pigeons. The day warmed up quickly. Once they got away from the car exhaust on the main roads, the air smelled of baking bread and freshly cut flowers.

They aimed for the Colosseum because that was an easy landmark, but getting there proved harder than Percy anticipated. As big and confusing as the city had looked from above, it was even more so on the ground. Several times they got lost on dead-end streets. They found beautiful fountains and huge monuments by accident.

Annabeth commented on the architecture, but Percy kept his eyes open for other things. Once he spotted a glowing purple ghost—a Lar—glaring at them from the window of an apartment building. Another time he saw a white-robed woman—maybe a nymph or a goddess—holding a wicked-looking knife, slipping between ruined columns in a public park. Nothing attacked them, but Percy felt like they were being watched, and the watchers were not friendly.

Finally they reached the Colosseum, where a dozen guys in cheap gladiator costumes were scuffling with the police—plastic swords versus batons. Percy wasn’t sure what that was about, but he and Annabeth decided to keep walking. Sometimes mortals were even stranger than monsters.

They made their way west, stopping every once in a while to ask directions to the river. Percy hadn’t considered that—duh—people in Italy spoke Italian, while he did not. As it turned out, though, that wasn’t much of a problem. The few times someone approached them on the street and asked a question, Percy just looked at them in confusion, and they switched to English.

Next discovery: the Italians used euros, and Percy didn’t have any. He regretted this as soon as he found a tourist shop that sold sodas. By then it was almost noon, getting really hot, and Percy was starting to wish he had a trireme filled with Diet Coke.

Annabeth solved the problem. She dug around in her backpack, brought out Daedalus’s laptop, and typed in a few commands. A plastic card ejected from a slot in the side.

Annabeth waved it triumphantly. “International credit card. For emergencies.”

Percy stared at her in amazement. “How did you—? No. Never mind. I don’t want to know. Just keep being awesome.”

The sodas helped, but they were still hot and tired by the time they arrived at the Tiber River. The shore was edged with a stone embankment. A chaotic assortment of warehouses, apartments, stores, and cafes crowded the riverfront.

The Tiber itself was wide, lazy, and caramel-colored. A few tall cypress trees hung over the banks. The nearest bridge looked fairly new, made from iron girders, but right next to it stood a crumbling line of stone arches that stopped halfway across the river—ruins that might’ve been left over from the days of the Caesars.

“This is it.” Annabeth pointed at the old stone bridge. “I recognize that from the map. But what do we do now?”

Percy was glad she had said we. He didn’t want to leave her yet. In fact, he wasn’t sure he could make himself do it when the time came. Gaea’s words came back to him: Will you fall alone?

He stared at the river, wondering how they could make contact with the god Tiberinus. He didn’t really want to jump in. The Tiber didn’t look much cleaner than the East River back home, where he’d had too many encounters with grouchy river spirits.

He gestured to a nearby cafe with tables overlooking the water. “It’s about lunchtime. How about we try your credit card again?”

Even though it was noon, the place was empty. They picked a table outside by the river, and a waiter hurried over. He looked a bit surprised to see them—especially when they said they wanted lunch.

“American?” he asked, with a pained smile.

“Yes,” Annabeth said.

“And I’d love a pizza,” Percy said.

The waiter looked like he was trying to swallow a euro coin. “Of course you would, signor. And let me guess: a Coca-Cola? With ice?”

“Awesome,” Percy said. He didn’t understand why the guy was giving him such a sour face. It wasn’t like Percy had asked for a blue Coke.