The Mark of Athena

“Reyna wouldn’t tell me,” Jason admitted. “But it must have been important. She seemed…shaken up. Maybe she got a prophecy or some bad news. Reyna never acted the same around me after that.”

Annabeth considered that. After their experience with the eidolons, she didn’t like the idea of approaching a ghost, especially one that changed people with bad news or prophecies. On the other hand, her mom was the goddess of knowledge, and knowledge was the most powerful weapon. Annabeth couldn’t turn down a possible source of information.

“A girls’ adventure, then,” Annabeth said. “Piper and Hazel can come with me.”

Both nodded, though Hazel looked nervous. No doubt her time in the Underworld had given her enough ghost experiences for two lifetimes. Piper’s eyes flashed defiantly, like anything Reyna could do, she could do.

Annabeth realized that if six of them went on these two quests, it would leave Percy alone on the ship with Coach Hedge, which was maybe not a situation a caring girlfriend should put him in. Nor was she eager to let Percy out of her sight again—not after they’d been apart for so many months. On the other hand, Percy looked so troubled by his experience with those imprisoned sea creatures, she thought maybe he could use a rest. She met his eyes, asking him a silent question. He nodded as if to say, Yeah. It’ll be fine.

“So that’s settled.” Annabeth turned to Leo, who was studying his console, listening to Festus creak and click over the intercom. “Leo, how long until we reach Charleston?”

“Good question,” he muttered. “Festus just detected a large group of eagles behind us—long-range radar, still not in sight.”

Piper leaned over the console. “Are you sure they’re Roman?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “No, Pipes. It could be a random group of giant eagles flying in perfect formation. Of course they’re Roman! I suppose we could turn the ship around and fight—”

“Which would be a very bad idea,” Jason said, “and remove any doubt that we’re enemies of Rome.”

“Or I’ve got another idea,” Leo said. “If we went straight to Charleston, we could be there in a few hours. But the eagles would overtake us, and things would get complicated. Instead, we could send out a decoy to trick the eagles. We take the ship on a detour, go the long way to Charleston, and get there tomorrow morning—”

Hazel started to protest, but Leo raised his hand. “I know, I know. Nico’s in trouble and we have to hurry.”

“It’s June twenty-seventh,” Hazel said. “After today, four more days. Then he dies.”

“I know! But this might throw the Romans off our trail. We still should have enough time to reach Rome.”

Hazel scowled. “When you say should have enough…”

Leo shrugged. “How do you feel about barely enough?”

Hazel put her face in her hands for a count of three. “Sounds about typical for us.”

Annabeth decided to take that as a green light. “Okay, Leo. What kind of decoy are we talking about?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” He punched a few buttons on the console, rotated the turntable, and repeatedly pressed the A button on his Wii controller really, really fast. He called into the intercom, “Buford? Report for duty, please.”

Frank took a step back. “There’s somebody else on the ship? Who is Buford?”

A puff of steam shot from the stairwell, and Leo’s automatic table climbed on deck.

Annabeth hadn’t seen much of Buford during the trip. He mostly stayed in the engine room. (Leo insisted that Buford had a secret crush on the engine.) He was a three-legged table with a mahogany top. His bronze base had several drawers, spinning gears, and a set of steam vents. Buford was toting a bag like a mail sack tied to one of his legs. He clattered to the helm and made a sound like a train whistle.

“This is Buford,” Leo announced.

“You name your furniture?” Frank asked.

Leo snorted. “Man, you just wish you had furniture this cool. Buford, are you ready for Operation End Table?”

Buford spewed steam. He stepped to the railing. His mahogany top split into four pie slices, which elongated into wooden blades. The blades spun, and Buford took off.

“A helicopter table,” Percy muttered. “Gotta admit, that’s cool. What’s in the bag?”

“Dirty demigod laundry,” Leo said. “I hope you don’t mind, Frank.”

Frank choked. “What?”

“It’ll throw the eagles off our scent.”

“Those were my only extra pants!”

Leo shrugged. “I asked Buford to get them laundered and folded while he’s out. Hopefully he will.” He rubbed his hands and grinned. “Well! I call that a good day’s work. I’m gonna calculate our detour route now. See you all at dinner!”

Percy passed out early, which left Annabeth with nothing to do in the evening except stare at her computer.

She’d brought Daedalus’s laptop with her, of course. Two years ago, she’d inherited the machine from the greatest inventor of all time, and it was loaded with invention ideas, schematics, and diagrams, most of which Annabeth was still trying to figure out. After two years, a typical laptop would have been out of date, but Annabeth figured Daedalus’s machine was still about fifty years ahead of its time. It could expand into a full-size laptop, shrink into a tablet computer, or fold into a wafer of metal smaller than a cell phone. It ran faster than any computer she’d ever had, could access satellites or Hephaestus-TV broadcasts from Mount Olympus, and ran custom-made programs that could do just about anything except tie shoelaces. There might have been an app for that, too, but Annabeth hadn’t found it yet.