Daughter Of Lightning - Book 2 (A Percy Jackson x OC fanfic)

CHAPTER 7

(Ella's POV)

The night before the race, Percy, Tyson & I finished our chariot. It was so cool. Tyson had made the metal parts in the armory forges. Percy sanded the wood & we put it together.

It was blue and white, with wave designs on
the sides with a trident & a lightning bolt painted on the front. Percy insisted that I rode shotgun with him, while Tyson would be our defender at the back...

I finally caved when Tyson wrapped me in a rib cracking hug & kept saying please over & over..which made Percy pout & cross his arms until I told Tyson to give him a hug as well.

He struggled to break free of the bear hug but eventually gave up since fighting Tyson's grip was impossible...I chuckled at them.

I told them both good night before heading to my cabin for some rest...

(Percy's POV)

As we were turning in for bed, Tyson said, “You are mad?”

I realized I was scowling. “Nah. I’m not mad.”

He lay down in his bunk & was quiet in the dark. His body was way too long for his bed. When he pulled up the covers, his feet stuck out the bottom. “I am a monster.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It is okay. I will be a good monster. Then you will not have to be mad.”

I didn’t know what to say. I stared at the ceiling & felt like I was dying slowly, right along with Thalia’s tree.

“It's just..I never had a half brother before.” I tried to keep my voice from cracking. “It’s really different for me. And I’m worried about the camp. And another friend of mine, Grover..he might be in trouble. I keep feeling like I should be doing something to help, but I don’t know what.”

Tyson said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “It’s not your fault. I’m mad at Poseidon. I feel like he’s trying to embarrass me, like he’s trying to compare us or something, & I don’t understand why.”

I heard a deep rumbling sound. Tyson was snoring.

I sighed. “Good night, big guy.”
And I closed my eyes, too.

(Ella's POV)

In my dream, Grover was wearing a wedding dress. It didn’t fit him very well. The gown was too long & the hem was caked with dried mud. The sleeves kept falling off his shoulders. A tattered veil covered his face.

He was standing in a dark cave, lit only by torches. There was a cot in one corner & an old-fashioned loom in the other, a length of white cloth half woven on the frame. And he was staring right at me, like I was a TV program he’d been waiting for. “Thank the gods!” he yelped. “Can you hear me?”

My dream-self was slow to respond. I was still looking around, taking in the stalactite ceiling, the stench of sheep & goats, the growling & grumbling & bleating sounds that seemed to echo from behind a refrigerator-sized boulder, which was blocking the room’s only exit, as if there were a much larger
cavern beyond it.

“Nora, Percy?” Grover said. Wait, Percy? “Please, I don’t have the strength to project any better. You guys have to hear me!”

“I hear you,” I said.

Percy's voice said. “Grover, what’s going on?”

From behind the boulder, a monstrous voice yelled, “Honeypie! Are you done yet?”