SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

85 - old man

BRIAR COULD NOT stop laughing.

Jason, who was hobbling next to her, had the Mist curled around him — courtesy of Hazel — to make him seem like an old man. And, oh boy, was he old. His legs shook as he trekked up the hill behind Briar.

His fingers were gnarled and bony. Bulging blue veins webbed the backs of his hands. He even had that old-man smell – mothballs and chicken soup.

And his face . . . gods, his face. He had so many wrinkles, it was the most hilarious thing that Briar had ever seen. And he had this angry old man expression that made her snort whenever she looked at it.

"Almost there." Annabeth said. "You're doing great. Briar, stop laughing at him."

"I can't," Briar wiped away her tears of laughter. Thank the gods for waterproof mascara. "Annie, we have it so easy. This is my wardrobe most of the time. He's an old man."

It was true; Briar and Annabeth were in white, sleeveless dresses and laced up sandals. Briar's hair was pinned up in a braided spiral, which usually wasn't her style, but she made it work. Gold bracelets adorned her arms. She felt powerful in this attire. Her cornucopia was slung to her waist and both of her knives were hidden in her dress and her hair. She felt like she could kill anything in her path and still look pretty.

Meanwhile, Annabeth looked uncomfortable in her serving-maiden outfit. She kept hunching her shoulders to keep the dress from slipping. Her pinned-up blonde bun had come undone in the back and her hair dangled like long spider legs. Knowing her hatred of spiders, Briar decided not to mention that.

"Worst idea ever." Jason leaned against a cedar tree and wiped his forehead. "Hazel's magic is too good. If I have to fight, I'll be useless."

"It won't come to that," Annabeth promised. "We infiltrate the palace, we get the information we need, and we get out."

Briar stopped, gesturing for Annabeth to stop as well. "We can rest for a second. Catch your breath, old man."

"I hate you," Jason muttered.

Briar grinned. "I thought you couldn't hear that well, old man."

She felt someone hit her shoulder, and looked over to see Annabeth swinging her amphora — the tall ceramic wine jar in which her sword was hidden — off her shoulder. "Briar. Stop."

Annabeth looked deadly. Her stormy grey eyes scanned the surroundings, alert for any threat. If any dude asked her for a drink, Briar figured she was more likely to kick the guy in the nuts.

"Fine," Briar sighed, turning to examine the view.

Below them, Afales Bay glittered, the water so blue it might've been dyed with food coloring. A few hundred yards offshore, the Argo II rested at anchor. Its white sails looked no bigger than postage stamps, its ninety oars like toothpicks.

"Stupid Ithaca," Briar heard Jason mutter. She snickered, mostly because she couldn't help it.

The island was pretty, though. A spine of forested hills twisted down its centre. Chalky white slopes plunged into the sea. Inlets formed rocky beaches and harbors where red-roofed houses and white stucco churches nestled against the shoreline.

The hills were dotted with poppies, crocuses and wild cherry trees. The breeze smelled of blooming myrtle. All very nice — except the temperature was about a hundred and five degrees. The air was as steamy as a Roman bathhouse.

"You sure this is the right hill?" Jason asked. "Seems kind of — I don't know — quiet."

Briar squinted in the distance, fiddling with the blue harpy feather that she'd gotten yesterday, as a souvenir of her fight with a flock of them last night. It was bittersweet, because now she was running on no sleep and a shit ton of Sprite. But at least she had a fidget toy.

"The ruins are up there," she promised. "I saw them in Katoptris. And you heard what Hazel said. 'The biggest –'"

"'The biggest gathering of evil spirits I've ever sensed,'" Jason recalled. "Yeah, sounds awesome."

After battling through the underground temple of Hades, the last thing Briar wanted was to deal with more evil spirits. But the fate of the quest was at stake. The crew of the Argo II had a big decision to make. If they chose wrong, they would fail, and the entire world would be destroyed.

Briar's blade, Hazel's magical senses and Annabeth's instincts all agreed – the answer lay here in Ithaca, at the ancient palace of Odysseus, where a horde of evil spirits had gathered to await Gaia's orders. The plan was to sneak among them, learn what was going on and decide the best course of action. Then get out, preferably alive.

Annabeth re-adjusted her golden belt. "I hope our disguises hold up. The suitors were nasty customers when they were alive. If they find out we're demigods –"

"Hazel's magic will work," Briar promised, reaching out to adjust Annabeth's dress.

The suitors: a hundred of the greediest, evilest cut-throats who'd ever lived. When Odysseus, the Greek king of Ithaca, went missing after the Trojan War, this mob of B-list princes had invaded his palace and refused to leave, each one hoping to marry Queen Penelope and take over the kingdom. Odysseus managed to return in secret and slaughter them all — your basic happy homecoming. But, if Briar's visions were right, and they usually were, the suitors were now back, haunting the place where they'd died.

Briar couldn't believe she was about to visit the actual palace of Odysseus – one of the most famous Greek heroes of all time. Then again, this whole quest had been one mind-blowing event after another. Annabeth herself had just come back from the eternal abyss of Tartarus.

"Well . . ." Jason steadied himself with his walking stick. "If I look as old as I feel, my disguise must be perfect. Let's get going."

As they climbed, sweat trickled down Briar's neck. Despite the heat, she began to shiver. After Khione's nasty visit, she felt like sometimes, she'd never be warm ever again.

It was stupid, but she'd taken to sleeping with either Aurum or Argentum, despite that their metal doesn't really get warm, but they comforted her when she'd wake up from her nightmares, which had gotten worse since going to the House of Hades.

Nico di Angelo had warned them that their ghosts would come back to haunt them. He'd warned them, but it still didn't seem real to Briar.

She kept seeing Khione and the Boreads, telling her that she was useless. Freezing her over and over again, her skin tinting blue. Reyna being frozen, Leo shooting up into the sky, and her other friends frozen.

Sometimes, she'd be standing at the highest point of both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, watching Gaea, who made the camps crumble to ruins.

The worst reoccurring ones were the ones where she'd be walking aimlessly, not finding a purpose in life. Reyna would be far away, so far away. Briar would try and find her, but she failed every single time.

You're nothing without her. You don't have a purpose without her. What are you doing with your life?

Or maybe the worst ones were where Briar would be in front of the gods, or facing Hercules again, and ridiculed for refusing the destiny that they'd given her. That she wasn't grateful enough for the power they'd given her, even though she knew that she was right.

Briar shivered when thinking about those things.

Then she shook it off. No. She couldn't think about those things now. She had a mission to do, and she needed to get out alive so she could find her purpose, and prove everyone wrong. Not for anyone else but herself.

"Almost there," Annabeth said. "Let's –"

BOOM! The hillside rumbled. Somewhere over the ridge, a crowd roared in approval, like spectators in a coliseum. The sound made Briar's skin crawl. Not so long ago, she'd sat in the Roman Colosseum with a cheering ghostly audience while she watched her friends fight for their lives. She wasn't anxious to repeat the experience.

"What was that explosion?" Jason asked.

"Don't know," Briar said. "But it sounds like they're having fun. Let's go make some dead friends."