𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, percy jackson

𝐗𝐈. the crew joins the circus

CHAPTER ELEVEN ——
THE CREW JOINS THE CIRCUS !

┊͙ 🎪 ˖ . *. ⋆

( "we got separated from
our circus caravan." )

IN A WAY, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day.

So there they were, Parker, Annabeth, Grover and Percy, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind them, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in their noses.

Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

Percy was pretty much in shock himself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in his ears. But Annabeth kept pulling them along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better."

"All of our stuff was back there!" Parker reminded her. "Everything."

"Well," Annabeth accusingly looked at Percy. "Maybe if someone hadn't decided to jump into the fight—"

"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?" He defended.

Parker glared at the boy as if he had intentionally burned the bus down. It's not the end of the world, I'm sure she could deal without her few belongings, Percy thought.

It was the end of the world to Parker though, losing the one thing she had left of her mom didn't make her feel too great. Worries of one day forgetting her mother's face swarmed her mind.

"You didn't need to protect us, Percy. We would've been fine." Annabeth said. "Plus, Parker seems to be getting that ice thing under control."

Parker's eyes widened. "You saw that?" Annabeth nodded proudly. "I honestly have no idea how I did that." She admitted.

After heading forward for another mile or so, the group started to see light up ahead: the colours of a neon sign. They could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. Percy realized he hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since he'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where they lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue.

He could use a double cheeseburger right about now.

They kept walking for a while until they saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell.

It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like Percy had hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden figurines and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for Percy to read because if there's anything worse for his dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English.

To him, it looked like: AINYU MES DERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM.

"What the heck does that say?" He asked.

"I don't know," Annabeth said. She loved reading so much, that Percy had forgotten she was dyslexic, too.