The Mark of Athena

“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 Pokemon 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.”