The Moon's Shine (PJO)

Chapter 27

"Where are you going?" Serena asked Percy, blocking his way as he attempted to exit the arena.

"I need some food," Percy grumbled. "I'm about to start eating dirt to stave off my hunger."

"Is this about Alina?" Serena guessed.

Percy nodded; immediately after Alina had heard that the program included Percy, she'd dragged the two to the training arena. She'd pestered Percy for god knows how long, and he was sick of it. He'd gotten out of dueling the angry demigod by claiming to train Serena in archery—a lie only the offspring of Ares couldn't detect.

Due to Alina's demands, he skipped breakfast. Lunch passed by in a more reluctant fashion—it was too selfish to leave.

But now it was time for dinner. Percy's stomach felt as though it was going to eat some of his organs if he didn't find food soon.

"Fight me!" Alina demanded, suddenly storming up.

"Speak of the devil," Serena muttered.

"I told you," Percy said to Alina. "I'm . . . fasting."

Serena shot Percy a look that said: Seriously? 

"Why does that matter?" Alina asked. "If you're hungry or not hungry—I'll still win."

Percy signaled to Serena, If you don't help me, I'll make you run for an hour.

Well, he tried to. The thing was, Percy didn't know sign language—and he definitely wasn't versed in the art of simple gestures. Instead, he gestured his hands violently behind his back—away from Alina's prying eyes—and hoped Serena would get the rest.

The archer understood. "Hey Percy," Serena said, "I think I need some help with my footwork."

"I'll be happy to help!" he chirped out and followed her back into the arena. 

"Coward," Percy heard Alina mutter under her breath as she followed.

Percy couldn't help but agree with her. Sure, lying to avoid sparring wasn't brave in any aspect—but he rather liked having his arms attached to his body.

Once the three reached the center of the Arena, Percy and Serena peeled off to practice archery in the corner. Alina stayed in the middle, practicing her swings. Percy gulped in fear as he observed them as long, cleaving strikes not unlike what a lumberjack would use.

"Footwork?" Percy hissed to Serena when they went far enough from Alina. "For archery? Seriously?"

"How would you know?" Serena shot back. "Footwork distinguishes a novice from a master." She shot a doubtful look toward Percy. "Though I doubt even a blessing could let you aim properly."

"Hey!" Percy cried indignantly. "I'll show you what real footwork is."

"I'm not interested," Serena said flatly when he prepared to draw Riptide. "But she is."

Percy followed her pointed finger to the center, where Alina was practicing. She'd healed nicely. He noticed that she was no longer favoring her left leg and that even the swiftest of her strikes had the power of a bull behind it.

"How long do you think I'll have to wait before she gives up?" he asked.

"It'll be ten minutes . . ." Serena began.

Thank Poseidon, Percy thought in relief. He didn't know how much longer he could wait.

". . . before you run out of patience," Serena finished. 

"Me?!" Percy exclaimed. "Why in the name of Hades would you think that?"

"Alina has the determination of Lord Ares. If you don't heed her demand, she'll just wait until you do—and you will. You haven't stopped moving since we entered again."