𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 (Annabeth X Malereader)

[14] Another coin added to the fountain

"Y/N, wake up." Salt water splashed on his face. Annabeth was shaking his shoulder. In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. He could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"Miami, I think," Annabeth said. "But the hippocampi are acting funny." Sure enough, the horse fish had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look happy. One of them sneezed.

"This is as far as they'll take us," Percy shouted out. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

"Great." Clarisse grumbled. They weren't very psyched about that, but they thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his toolkit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said goodbye.

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, they swam for shore. Percy willed the waves to push them forward, and in no time, they were back in the mortal world. They wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed the 6 sopping wet children walking around, they didn't care.

Now that they were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the Miami Herald. She cursed. "June eighteenth! We've been away from camp ten days!"

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said.

"Time travels differently in monstrous places." Y/N's face was grim.

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed. "We have to get the Fleece back tonight."

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. It's your fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered—"

"Percy's fault?!" Annabeth exploded. "Clarisse, how can you say that? You are the biggest..."

"Stop fighting! Both of you!" Y/N exclaimed. Clarisse put her head in hands. Annabeth stomped her foot in frustration.

Y/N thought for a moment. Technically, the quest was supposed to be Clarisse's. Y/N could tell she didn't want to look bad. How would he feel if a bunch of other heroes had butted in and made him look bad? He thought back to what he overheard in the boiler room of the CSS Birmingham—Ares yelling at Clarisse, warning her that she'd better not fail. Ares couldn't care less about the camp, but if Clarisse made him look bad...

"Clarisse," Y/N said, "what did the Oracle tell you exactly?"

She looked up. She took a deep breath and recited her prophecy: You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone, You shall find what you seek and make it your own, But despair for your life entombed within stone, And fail without friends, to fly home alone.

"Ouch," Grover mumbled.

"No," Percy said. "No... wait a minute. I've got it." He searched his pockets and pulled out nothing but a golden drachma. "Does anybody have any cash?"