The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus #3)(31)
Piper wondered what was going on with those three. The boys showing off for Hazel and razzing each other—that she understood. But it almost seemed like Hazel and Leo had a history. So far as she knew, they’d met for the first time just yesterday. She wondered if something else had happened on their trip to the Great Salt Lake—something they hadn’t mentioned.
Hazel turned to Percy. “Just be careful when you go out there. Lots of fields, lots of crops. Could be karpoi on the loose.”
“Karpoi?” Piper asked.
“Grain spirits,” Hazel said. “You don’t want to meet them.”
Piper didn’t see how a grain spirit could be so bad, but Hazel’s tone convinced her not to ask.
“That leaves three of us to check on the mile marker,” Percy said. “Me, Jason, Piper. I’m not psyched about seeing Mr. D again. That guy is a pain. But, Jason, if you’re on better terms with him—”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “If we find him, I’ll talk to him. Piper, it’s your vision. You should take the lead.”
Piper shivered. She’d seen the three of them drowning in that dark well. Was Kansas where it would happen? That didn’t seem right, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Of course,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “Let’s find the highway.”
Leo had said they were close. His idea of “close” needed some work.
After trudging half a mile through hot fields, getting bitten by mosquitoes and whacked in the face with scratchy sunflowers, they finally reached the road. An old billboard for Bubba’s Gas ’n’ Grub indicated they were still forty miles from the first Topeka exit.
“Correct my math,” Percy said, “but doesn’t that mean we have eight miles to walk?”
Jason peered both ways down the deserted road. He looked better today, thanks to the magical healing of ambrosia and nectar. His color was back to normal, and the scar on his forehead had almost vanished. The new gladius that Hera had given him last winter hung at his belt. Most guys would look pretty awkward walking around with a scabbard strapped to their jeans, but on Jason it seemed perfectly natural.
“No cars…” he said. “But I guess we wouldn’t want to hitchhike.”
“No,” Piper agreed, gazing nervously down the highway. “We’ve already spent too much time going overland. The earth is Gaea’s territory.”
“Hmm…” Jason snapped his fingers. “I can call a friend for a ride.”
Percy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? Me too. Let’s see whose friend gets here first.”
Jason whistled. Piper knew what he was doing, but he’d succeeded in summoning Tempest only three times since they’d met the storm spirit at the Wolf House last winter. Today, the sky was so blue, Piper didn’t see how it could work.
Percy simply closed his eyes and concentrated.
Piper hadn’t studied him up close before. After hearing so much at Camp Half-Blood about Percy Jackson this and Percy Jackson that, she thought he looked…well, unimpressive, especially next to Jason. Percy was more slender, about an inch shorter, with slightly longer, much darker hair.
He wasn’t really Piper’s type. If she’d seen him in the mall somewhere, she probably would’ve thought he was a skater—cute in a scruffy way, a little on the wild side, definitely a troublemaker. She would have steered clear. She had enough trouble in her life. But she could see why Annabeth liked him, and she could definitely see why Percy needed Annabeth in his life. If anybody could keep a guy like that under control, it was Annabeth.
Thunder crackled in the clear sky.
Jason smiled. “Soon.”
“Too late.” Percy pointed east, where a black winged shape was spiraling toward them. At first, Piper thought it might be Frank in crow form. Then she realized it was much too big to be a bird.
“A black pegasus?” she said. “Never seen one like that.”
The winged stallion came in for a landing. He trotted over to Percy and nuzzled his face, then turned his head inquisitively toward Piper and Jason.
“Blackjack,” Percy said, “this is Piper and Jason. They’re friends.”
The horse nickered.
“Uh, maybe later,” Percy answered.
Piper had heard that Percy could speak to horses, being the son of the horse lord Poseidon, but she’d never seen it in action.
“What does Blackjack want?” she asked.
“Donuts,” Percy said. “Always donuts. He can carry all three of us if—”
Suddenly the air turned cold. Piper’s ears popped. About fifty yards away, a miniature cyclone three stories tall tore across the tops of the sunflowers like a scene from The Wizard of Oz. It touched down on the road next to Jason and took the form of a horse—a misty steed with lightning flickering through its body.
“Tempest,” Jason said, grinning broadly. “Long time, my friend.”
The storm spirit reared and whinnied. Blackjack backed up skittishly.
“Easy, boy,” Percy said. “He’s a friend too.” He gave Jason an impressed look. “Nice ride, Grace.”
Jason shrugged. “I made friends with him during our fight at the Wolf House. He’s a free spirit, literally, but once in a while he agrees to help me.”
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