ᥴꪮ𝘴ꪑꪮ𝘴 ➪ 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚕𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜 [𝟷]

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"𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑
𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢
𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝."

-𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚏

Tʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, Zᴏᴇ̈ ᴀɴᴅ Bianca joined Grover, Thalia, and Polaris near the Camp Half-blood van.

Zoë shoved her bag in the back. "Phoebe will not be joining us."

Polaris closed the back door. "What? Why not?"

"A gift she was given was coated in centaur's blood. She will be bedridden for weeks. We need to leave."

"But we need six!" Polaris protested. "What about another Hunter?"

"There is no time!" Zoë exclaimed. "We need to get started."

Polaris grumbled, but climbed in the backseat with Bianca and Grover. Zoë was driving, and Thalia, sitting in the passenger's seat, looked very uncomfortable.

Zoë had a bit of trouble navigating through Manhattan, and Grover was the only who could help her. He was happy to assist.

Zoë drove south like a crazy person, and they made it all the way to Maryland before finally pulling over at a rest stop. The rest stop had a small convenience store, with two gas pumps outside. There was a singular picnic table that had a red and white umbrella, casting circular shade on the ground. Polaris was surprised any sun was hitting it, because large grey clouds covered the entire sky.

Zoë, Thalia, Bianca, Polaris, and Grover all filed into the store, bell jingling behind them.

"I want Doritos." Polaris muttered, pulling a few crumpled mortal bills out of her pocket. "And a chocolate milk."

They all scattered, grabbing snacks. Zoë went up to the cash register to play for their gas.

Polaris was the first one back outside. She felt a tingle at the nape of her neck, like someone was watching her. She spun around, but saw nothing. Her eyes narrowed.

"Grover, are you sure?" Thalia was saying as she exited the store.

"Well . . . pretty sure. Ninety-nine percent. Okay, eighty-five percent."

"And you did this with acorns?" Bianca asked, like she couldn't believe it.

Grover looked offended. "It's a time-honored tracking spell. I mean, I'm pretty sure I did it right."

"D.C. is about sixty miles from here," Bianca said. "Nico and I. . ." She frowned. "We used to live there. That's . . . that's strange. I'd forgotten."

"I dislike this," Zoë said. "We should go straight west. The prophecy said west."

"I think we should trust Grover," Polaris butted in, ignoring her weird feeling. "He's got that cool woodland magic."