ᥴꪮ𝘴ꪑꪮ𝘴 ➪ 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚕𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜 [𝟷]

✈︎

𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚜
𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢.

-𝚇𝙰𝙽 𝙾𝙺𝚄

Tʜᴇʏ ʀᴏᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴀʀ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ sᴜɴsᴇᴛ, which was about as comfortable as riding a giant steel brush over a bed of gravel all day.

Polaris has no idea how many miles they covered, but the mountains faded into the distance and were replaced by miles of flat, dry land. The grass and scrub brush got sparser until they were galloping across the desert.

As night fell, the boar came to a stop at a creek bed and snorted. He started drinking the muddy water, then ripped a saguaro cactus out of the ground and chewed it, needles and all.

"This is as far as he'll go," Grover said. "We need to get off while he's eating."

Nobody needed convincing. They slipped off the boar's back while he was busy ripping up cacti. Then they waddled away as best they could with their saddle sores.

After its third saguaro and another drink of muddy water, the boar squealed and belched, then whirled around and galloped back toward the east.

"It likes the mountains better," Percy guessed.

"I can't blame it," Thalia said. "Look."

Ahead of them was a two-lane road half covered with sand. On the other side of the road was a cluster of buildings too small to be a town: a boarded-up house, a taco shop that looked like it hadn't been open since before Zoë Nightshade was born, and a white stucco post office with a sign that said GILA CLAW, ARIZONA hanging crooked above the door.

Beyond that was a range of hills . . . but then Polaris noticed they weren't regular hills. The countryside was way too flat for that. The hills were enormous mounds of old cars, appliances, and other scrap metal. It was a junkyard that seemed to go on forever.

"Whoa," Polaris said.

"Something tells me we're not going to find a car rental here," Thalia said. She looked at Grover. "I don't suppose you got another wild boar up your sleeve?"

"I might be able to scrounge up some transportation," Polaris offered. "But we won't be able to sleep safely on it, and I'll definitely be unconscious."

Grover held up a finger for quiet. He was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. He fished out his acorns and threw them into the sand, then played his pipes. They rearranged themselves in a pattern that made no sense to Polaris, but Grover looked concerned.

"That's us," he said. "Those six nuts right there."

"Which one is me?" Percy asked.

"The little deformed one," Zoë suggested.