𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹

Chapter 14

Fourteen
𖧷

Annabeth Goes Dipping

  I had finally found what I can really control for once.

  The Queen Anne’s Revenge responded to my every command. I knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer. We plowed through the waves at what I figured was about ten knots. I even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty fucking fast.

  It all felt perfect–the wind in my face, the waves breaking over the prow.

  But I had that little nagging voice in the back of my mind insisting that we weren't able to make it in time. That we wouldn't save Grover. It all felt ... Familiar, in a sort of way?

  I couldn’t get over how badly I’d messed up on Circe’s Island. If it hadn’t been for Annabeth, I’d still be a rodent, hiding in a hutch with a bunch of cute furry pirates and a dumb airhead. I thought about what Circe had said: See, (y/n)? You’ve unlocked your true self!

  I still felt changed. Not just because I had a sudden desire to eat a bunch of lettuce. I felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal was now a part of me. Or maybe it had always been there. That’s what really worried me.

  We sailed through the night, and that made me feel a lot more at ease.

  Despite being dumb on any other occasion, Percy was good at following orders and helping out on the ship whenever I asked.

  Annabeth, on the other hand, wasn't as resistant to being seasick as the both of us, so when she tried looking out the ship, she turned the same color as a pear and decided she'd be better off keeping her energy on he hammocks.

  I watched the horizon. More than once I spotted monsters. A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spewed into the moonlight. A row of green spines slithered across the waves–something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian. I didn’t really want to know.

  Once I saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. We tried to wave at them, but they disappeared into the depths, leaving me unsure whether they’d seen us or not.

  Sometime after midnight, Annabeth came up on deck. We were just passing a smoking volcano island. The sea bubbled and steamed around the shore.

  "One of the forges of Hephaestus," Annabeth said. "Where he makes his metal monsters."

  "Like the bronze bulls?"

  She nodded. "Go around. Far around."

  We didn’t need to be told twice. We steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind us.

  I looked at Annabeth. "Uhm, about that story of how Thalia really died ... Is that why you hate Cyclops?"

  Annabeth frowned.

  "I guess you deserve to know," she said. "The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns."

  I nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

  "Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops’s lair in Brooklyn."