The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus #3)(56)

“I know! But this might throw the Romans off our trail. We still should have enough time to reach Rome.”

Hazel scowled. “When you say should have enough…”

Leo shrugged. “How do you feel about barely enough?”

Hazel put her face in her hands for a count of three. “Sounds about typical for us.”

Annabeth decided to take that as a green light. “Okay, Leo. What kind of decoy are we talking about?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” He punched a few buttons on the console, rotated the turntable, and repeatedly pressed the A button on his Wii controller really, really fast. He called into the intercom, “Buford? Report for duty, please.”

Frank took a step back. “There’s somebody else on the ship? Who is Buford?”

A puff of steam shot from the stairwell, and Leo’s automatic table climbed on deck.

Annabeth hadn’t seen much of Buford during the trip. He mostly stayed in the engine room. (Leo insisted that Buford had a secret crush on the engine.) He was a three-legged table with a mahogany top. His bronze base had several drawers, spinning gears, and a set of steam vents. Buford was toting a bag like a mail sack tied to one of his legs. He clattered to the helm and made a sound like a train whistle.

“This is Buford,” Leo announced.

“You name your furniture?” Frank asked.

Leo snorted. “Man, you just wish you had furniture this cool. Buford, are you ready for Operation End Table?”

Buford spewed steam. He stepped to the railing. His mahogany top split into four pie slices, which elongated into wooden blades. The blades spun, and Buford took off.

“A helicopter table,” Percy muttered. “Gotta admit, that’s cool. What’s in the bag?”

“Dirty demigod laundry,” Leo said. “I hope you don’t mind, Frank.”

Frank choked. “What?”

“It’ll throw the eagles off our scent.”

“Those were my only extra pants!”

Leo shrugged. “I asked Buford to get them laundered and folded while he’s out. Hopefully he will.” He rubbed his hands and grinned. “Well! I call that a good day’s work. I’m gonna calculate our detour route now. See you all at dinner!”

Percy passed out early, which left Annabeth with nothing to do in the evening except stare at her computer.

She’d brought Daedalus’s laptop with her, of course. Two years ago, she’d inherited the machine from the greatest inventor of all time, and it was loaded with invention ideas, schematics, and diagrams, most of which Annabeth was still trying to figure out. After two years, a typical laptop would have been out of date, but Annabeth figured Daedalus’s machine was still about fifty years ahead of its time. It could expand into a full-size laptop, shrink into a tablet computer, or fold into a wafer of metal smaller than a cell phone. It ran faster than any computer she’d ever had, could access satellites or Hephaestus-TV broadcasts from Mount Olympus, and ran custom-made programs that could do just about anything except tie shoelaces. There might have been an app for that, too, but Annabeth hadn’t found it yet.

She sat on her bunk, using one of Daedalus’s 3-D-rendering programs to study a model of the Parthenon in Athens. She’d always yearned to visit it, both because she loved architecture and because it was the most famous temple to her mother.

Now she might get her wish, if they lived long enough to reach Greece. But the more she thought about the Mark of Athena, and the old Roman legend Reyna had mentioned, the more nervous she got.

She didn’t want to, but she recalled her argument with her mother. Even after so many weeks, the words still stung.

Annabeth had been riding the subway back from the Upper East Side after visiting Percy’s mom. During those long months when Percy was missing, Annabeth made the trip at least once a week—partly to give Sally Jackson and her husband Paul an update on the search, and partly because Annabeth and Sally needed to lift each other’s spirits and convince one another that Percy would be fine.

The spring had been especially hard. By then, Annabeth had reason to hope Percy was alive, since Hera’s plan seemed to involve sending him to the Roman side, but she couldn’t be sure where he was. Jason had remembered his old camp’s location more or less, but all the Greeks’ magic—even that of the campers of Hecate’s cabin—couldn’t confirm that Percy was there, or anywhere. He seemed to have disappeared from the planet. Rachel the Oracle had tried to read the future, and while she couldn’t see much, she’d been certain that Leo needed to finish the Argo II before they could contact the Romans.

Nevertheless, Annabeth had spent every spare moment scouring all sources for any rumors of Percy. She had talked to nature spirits, read legends about Rome, dug for clues on Daedalus’s notebook, and spent hundreds of golden drachmas on Iris-messages to every friendly spirit, demigod, or monster she’d ever met, all with no luck.

That particular afternoon, coming back from Sally’s, Annabeth had felt even more drained than usual. She and Sally had first cried and then attempted to pull themselves together, but their nerves were frayed. Finally Annabeth took the Lexington Avenue subway down to Grand Central.

There were other ways to get back to her high school dorm from the Upper East Side, but Annabeth liked going through Grand Central Terminal. The beautiful design and the vast open space reminded her of Mount Olympus. Grand buildings made her feel better—maybe because being in a place so permanent made her feel more permanent.