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chapter thirty-four. ☄︎. *. ⋆
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NOW, YOU WOULD THINK Percy and I began trembling in fear. Spoiler alert: we didn't. We were used to Luke's threats by then.
We weren't exactly terrified, or anything. Percy was trying to bait Luke into a one-on-one. With the borderline worried glance he'd given me over his shoulder, I could have almost believed Percy was trying to keep me out of harm's way with his offer, but I decided that was a crazy thought. And anyway, Luke wasn't going to let me slip away that easily. I remembered his warning from the last time he saw me: "When you die, I'll make sure it's by my hand."
So that didn't really solidify my nerves.
As Luke glared at Percy, I looked to the steed Argius had returned with. It was putting up a good fight. I wasn't the one that could read horse minds, but the message this black mare was putting out was pretty clear—and I don't think I can translate it properly for you without Chiron somehow hearing and washing my mouth out with soap.
"I'll kill you quickly," Luke decided. He'd taken the bait, clearly—Percy had backed him into a corner with his challenge. If Luke had said no, he would've looked like a coward in front of his entire crew.
Luke raised his weapon. Backbiter was a foot longer than Percy's own sword, which looked puny in comparison to the double-edged blade. Luke had had his sword specially welded of celestial bronze and normal steel, so it could take out both mortals and otherwise—and I didn't think Luke had the human steel there just for looks. The thought of what he used it for gave me a shudder. Luke whistled to one of his men, who threw him a round leather and bronze shield.
"Luke," I said angrily, "at least give him a shield."
"Sorry, Tiny," he said. "You bring your own equipment to this party. And hey," he said, pointing at me and grinning like a handsome celebrity would to his fangirls, "you can be next, if I kill Percy fast enough."
"Well, don't let me rush you," I said, giving Percy a grim look.
Luke lunged, and almost killed Percy with one move. His sword went under his arm, slashing through the charred remains of Percy's shirt and grazing his ribs. I winced. Next to me, Grover muttered some sort of nature prayer.
Watching Luke fight, I was almost glad Percy had offered the one-on-one and left me out of it. I know, I know—that's not a very heroic way of thinking—but, dude, come on. If you were in my shoes, you'd be thinking the same thing. I've been sparring with Luke for years, and he's always been better than me. I thanked Zeus I wasn't in Percy's position. If I was... hey, death might've been an option.
At some point during their battle, Percy ended up in the pool. I hoped, as I'm sure he did as well, that the water would help him, give him some sort of advantage, but Luke was just too strong. He countered every splash of water Percy threw at him skillfully. Then, when Percy slipped up and made a small mistake, Luke made a mad jab with his sword and got a nasty slice on Percy's leg. I winced at the amount of blood that instantly poured from the wound.
Percy was manic. I would be, too. Luke strolled toward him, like he had all the time in the world. The edge of his sword was dripping Percy's blood.
"One thing I want you to watch before you die, Percy." Luke grinned down at him, then turned back to us, and I knew before he even opened his mouth what he wanted Percy's last sight to be. My eyes widened as Luke ordered his crew to kill us.
Clearly, I had the popularity vote of this crowd, because three monsters and a demigod turned on me while only one Laistrygonian went for both of my friends. I crept back, but the demigod—who I faintly recognized, but not enough to put a name on him—swung his sword. I covered my face with my arms.
All that happened, though, was a little sting on my elbow.
For a split second, the demigod looked as confused as I was. Then there was a wild chorus of war cries and hooves thundering against metal. A dozen centaurs charged out of the main stairwell.
"Ponies!" Tyson cried with delight.
My mind had trouble processing everything I saw. Chiron was among the crowd, but his relatives were almost nothing like him. There were centaurs with black Arabian stallion bodies, others with gold palomino coats, others with orange-and-white spots like paint horses. Some wore brightly colored T-shirts with Day-Glo letters that said PARTY PONIES: SOUTH FLORIDA CHAPTER. Some were armed with bows, some with baseball bats, some with paintball guns.
They exploded onto the deck with such ferocity and color that for a moment even Luke was stunned. I couldn't tell whether they had come to celebrate or attack.
Apparently both. As Luke was raising his sword to rally his troops, a centaur shot him with a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool.
The rest is a paintball-splattered blur, honestly. I watched Chiron gallop over and pluck Annabeth and Grover off the deck, depositing them neatly on his back, but that was about all I could recognize consciously. I registered Luke clambering out of the swimming pool and ordering his troops to attack. I faintly remember the smell of burnt hair. I'm not sure where it came from.
I rushed over to Percy. He could barely stand up, much less run away with the centaurs. I peered at his wound—gods, it was bad. Luke's sword might not have been poisonous, but it still packed a nasty bite. Percy winced when I grazed over the bare skin of his thigh.
Suddenly, two hands picked us up by the collars of our shirts. I thrashed around until I realized it was just one of Chiron's centaur buddies, and allowed him to place me and Percy onto his back.
"Tyson!" Percy shouted. "Come on!"
Tyson dropped the two warriors he was about to tie into a knot and jogged after us. He jumped on the centaur next to us, who had offered his back up to Tyson.
"Dude!" the centaur groaned, almost buckling under Tyson's weight. "Do the words 'low-carb diet' mean anything to you?"
Luke's warriors were organizing themselves into a phalanx. But by the time they were ready to advance, the centaurs had galloped to the edge of the deck and fearlessly jumped the guardrail, as if it were a steeplechase and not ten stories above the ground. I was sure we were going to die. We plummeted toward the docks, but the centaurs hit the asphalt with hardly a jolt and galloped off, whooping and yelling taunts at the Princess Andromeda as we raced into the streets of downtown Miami.
I rested the back of my head against Percy's chest and exhaled a short sigh. "Have I ever told you how much I hate cruise ships?"
