The Next Great Prophecy

PIPER XXXI

            Piper and Jason were sitting out in the sun, watching for monsters, when they heard the scream. They rushed down to the lower decks, and listened for and sign of who screamed. Piper thought it might have been Percy, but she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the screaming with which she had become reluctantly familiar.

            “Guys?” Jason called down the hall. There was no answer. Leo was probably in the engine room, and wouldn’t have heard much. Annabeth had gone to the stables, far enough away that their voices wouldn’t carry. They weren’t sure where Nico, Hazel, or Frank were.

            Jason rushed to Percy’s door, yanking on the knob. As the door opened, water rushed out, gallons and gallons of it. Jason was flung into the wall by the wave. When the water had finally flowed into the hall, he was able to stand. He rushed through the door, and Piper was quick to follow.

            Percy’s room was soaked. The carpet squished under her shoes, and water dripped from the bed frame, which drooped under the weight of the waterlogged mattress. But the worst sight was Percy.

            He lay on the floor, sprawled out as if he fell from the ceiling. His hair was sticking up everywhere, completely soaked. His skin was pale, paler even than Nico’s. But worst of all, he wasn’t moving. Piper couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

            She rushed past Jason, kneeling next to Percy. She placed a hand below his nose, trying to find out if he was breathing. He wasn’t.

            She shook him. “Percy? Percy, wake up this instant,” she demanded, letting charmspeak flow into her voice. Nothing. She struggled to remember what she had learned about CPR. She flashed back to the time she was with these two boys, back in Greece. Back when it was Jason who wasn’t breathing, and Percy had fixed it. Now, Percy was the one who needed fixing.

            Suddenly, the memory of that distant CPR class flooded back. She started chest compressions, thanking her dad for taking her to learn CPR when they started surfing. After thirty, he still wasn’t breathing. She tilted back his head, pinched his nose, and began to force air into his lungs.

            She started with the chest compressions again. Suddenly, he started to cough. Water flew from his mouth, and he sucked in several deep breaths before opening his eyes. He looked at Piper.

            “You’d think a son of Poseidon would spend less time drowning,” he joked weakly. His eyes closed once more, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.