NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

thirty eight: the pax.

AS SOON AS they left the dock, Brooklyn was grinning and dipping her hand in the water, feeling the familiar biting cold of the ocean under her. They sped by a pack of sea lions lounging on the docks, and she swore she saw an old homeless guy sitting among them. From across the water, the old man pointed a bony finger at Percy and mouthed something like Don't even think about it.

"Did you see that?" Hazel asked.

Percy's face was red in the sunset. "Yeah. I've been here before. I . . . I don't know. I think I was looking for my best friend."

"Brooks?"

"No, I don't live in San Francisco." Brooklyn frowned, her head pounding. She brought her hand out of the water, dried it on her dress, and rubbed her temple. "At least, I don't think I do . . ."

"Annabeth," Frank said. "You mean, on your way to Camp Jupiter?"

Percy frowned. "No. Before that." He scanned the city like he was still looking for Annabeth until they passed under the Golden Gate Bridge and turned north.

But Brooklyn wasn't thinking about the past, she was thinking about the future. Her future. Because what if she survived this impossible quest? What if she made herself a future by being praetor of Camp Jupiter?

That could be her future. That could be her. Leading Camp Jupiter with Reyna by her side, being one of the most important people in the camp, having so much power under her fingertips.

It sounds stupid. Her? Brooklyn Hayward? With power? Yet her entire being was made for wielding power. Her fingertips held the power of the skies, of the storms, of electricity.

If Camp Jupiter needed a storm, then they'd get Brooklyn Hayward.

The boat shuddered, jolting her back to the present. They entered the Pacific currents and skirted the rocky coastline of Marin County.

"You okay?" Frank asked, presumably Hazel, considering Brooklyn wasn't facing them. "You look queasy."

"Seasickness," Hazel confessed. "I didn't think it would be this bad."

Brooklyn heard Frank digging in his pack. "I've got some nectar. And some crackers. Um, my grandmother says ginger helps . . . I don't have any of that, but—"

"It's okay." Hazel said. "That's sweet of you, though."

Brooklyn heard at a snapping sound, and looked back briefly to see a saltine snapping in his big fingers. Cracker exploded everywhere.

Hazel laughed. "Gods, Frank . . . sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

"Uh, no problem," he said sheepishly. "Guess you don't want that one."

Percy wasn't paying much attention. He kept his eyes fixed on the shoreline. As they passed Stinson Beach, he pointed inland, where a single mountain rose above the green hills.

"That looks familiar," he said.

"Mount Tam," Frank said. "Kids at camp are always talking about it. Big battle happened on the summit, at the old Titan base."

Percy frowned. "Were either of you there?"

"No," Hazel said. "That was back in August, before I — um, before I got to camp. Jason told me about it. The legion destroyed the enemy's palace and about a million monsters. Jason had to battle Krios — hand-to-hand combat with a Titan, if you can imagine."

"I can imagine," Percy muttered.

Brooklyn left him be, leaving an open spot on her bench in case he wanted to sit. She watched the sun set in the ocean, propping her feet up on the bench and putting her head on top of her knees. Instead of thinking about lost memories that refused to come back because she was tired of that, she thought about her brother. Him rising into power. Him leading the camp. Him killing the Titan.