𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 • 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯

Luke (Again)

Y/n Pov:

I woke up to the sound of a whining hippocampus.

In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. I could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbour filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

It kind of looks like Miami.

Our fishy friends had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look happy. One of them sneezed.

Percy might know what's wrong with them.

I turned around. "Percy," I called.

Nothing happened. Percy kept on drooling.

"Percy."

Crickets.

I groaned and wet my hand with seawater. I put my hand on his face. "Wake up, Seaweed Brain."

He groaned and sat up. "Wassapenin?" Percy croaked.

"We're in Miami, I think," I said. "But the hippocampi are acting funny." 

Percy looked at Rainbow and his friends.

"This is as far as they'll take us," I said. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own." 

None of us was very psyched about that, but we thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck. He huggedRainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said goodbye. 

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, we swam for shore. The waves pushed us forward, and in no time we were back in the mortal world. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us—five kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just fought with a monster—they didn't let on. 

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket. 

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the Miami Herald. She cursed. "June eighteenth! We've been away from camp ten days!" 

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said. 

But I knew it wasn't. Time travelled differently in monstrous places. 

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed. "We have to get the Fleece back tonight." 

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. It's your fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered—" 

"Percy's fault?!" I exploded. "Clarisse, how can you say that? You are the biggest—" 

"Stop it!" Percy said. 

Clarisse put her head in her hands. I stomped my foot in frustration.

The thing was: I'd almost forgotten this quest was supposed to be Clarisse's. For a scary moment, I saw things from her point of view. How would I feel if a bunch of other heroes headbutted in and made me look bad?