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The next two days on the Amtrak train were boring. The five kids were heading west, through hills, over rivers, and past amber waves of grain.
They weren't attacked once, but that didn't calm their nerves. Percy felt as if they were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, as if something was waiting for the right opportunity.
One night, Bronte laid on the floor of their cabin, staring up at the ceiling. She fiddled with her dagger, tossing it up in the air and twisting it around. Her mind was wandering around, not really sure where it was going.
When the blonde heard someone sigh next to her, she turned her head to see Percy wide awake. She frowned, putting the dagger away and focusing on him.
She didn't know if she should say anything yet, since he looked deep in thought.
"Hey, you asleep?" he asked, staring at the ceiling above them.
She took a second in responding, but was surprised when she heard another voice.
"Yes," she and someone else said simultaneously. Bronte looked up to see Annabeth looking at the bunk above her.
She giggled softly, making Annabeth smile reluctantly. There was a thin smile that appeared on Percy's face, but he didn't look at either of the girls.
"You and Thalia were really close, right?" he asked Annabeth.
"Yeah," she answered. There was hesitation in her voice, not exactly sure what the raven haired boy wanted.
"What was she like?"
"Why?" her voice cracked.
Bronte looked up at Annabeth, frowning. She knew this was a sensitive topic.
"She was the last forbidden kid before me–before us, right?" Percy turned to look at Bronte, who stared out the window. "She must've dealt with the same kind of stuff."
Bronte never thought about what this meant. Her and Thalia were sisters, half-sisters. Would she end up just like her?
"She was tough," Annabeth sighed. "I mean, she knew she was a forbidden kid, she just didn't care. When Luke and Thalia found me, Luke cared for me right away. But Thalia...she made me earn it. "
"Is that why you give us a hard time?" Bronte asked. "We gotta earn it with you too?"
"Yeah, maybe," she raised a brow.
"I gotta say, that doesn't make a lot of sense to me," Percy spoke. His hands were folded over his chest as he stared at the ceiling.
Bronte went back to her dagger, doing tricks with her hand.
"What doesn't make sense to you?" Annabeth asked.
"The way you guys all talk," he explained. "The way the gods want us to think. Gotta burn an offering to get a parent's attention. Gotta beat up on Clarisse just to get my father to admit he's my father. It isn't supposed to work that way." He paused, taking a deep breath. "People who are close to you aren't supposed to treat you that way."
