The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus #3)(82)

“It could kick some serious booty,” Leo offered.

Hazel frowned. “That wasn’t the way I’d put it, but yes.”

“Except…” Percy took Annabeth’s hand again. “No child of Athena has ever found it. Annabeth, what’s down there? What’s guarding it? If it’s got to do with spiders—?”

“Won through pain from a woven jail,” Frank recalled. “Woven, like webs?”

Annabeth’s face turned as white as printer paper. Piper suspected that Annabeth knew what awaited her…or at least that she had a very good idea. She was trying to hold down a wave of panic and terror.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to Rome,” Piper suggested, putting a little charmspeak in her voice to soothe her friend’s nerves. “It’s going to work out. Annabeth is going to kick some serious booty, too. You’ll see.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I learned a long time ago: Never bet against Annabeth.”

Annabeth looked at them both gratefully.

Judging from their half-eaten breakfasts, the others still felt uneasy; but Leo managed to shake them out of it. He pushed a button, and a loud blast of steam exploded from Festus’s mouth, making everyone jump.

“Well!” he said. “Good pep rally, but there’s still a ton of things to fix on this ship before we get to the Mediterranean. Please report to Supreme Commander Leo for your superfun list of chores!”

Piper and Jason took charge of cleaning the lower deck, which had been thrown into chaos during the monster attack. Reorganizing sickbay and battening down the storage area took them most of the day, but Piper didn’t mind. For one thing, she got to spend time with Jason. For another, last night’s explosions had given Piper a healthy respect for Greek fire. She didn’t want any loose vials of that stuff rolling through the corridors in the middle of the night.

As they were fixing up the stables, Piper thought about the night Annabeth and Percy had spent down here accidentally. Piper wished that she could talk with Jason all night—just curl up on the stable floor and enjoy being with him. Why didn’t they get to break the rules?

But Jason wasn’t like that. He was hardwired to be a leader and set a good example. Breaking the rules didn’t come naturally to him.

No doubt Reyna admired that about him. Piper did too…mostly.

The one time she’d convinced him to be a rebel was back at the Wilderness School, when they had sneaked onto the roof at night to watch a meteor shower. That’s where they’d had their first kiss.

Unfortunately, that memory was a trick of the Mist, a magical lie implanted in her head by Hera. Piper and Jason were together now, in real life, but their relationship had been founded on an illusion. If Piper tried to get the real Jason to sneak out at night, would he do it?

She swept the hay into piles. Jason fixed a broken door on one of the stables. The glass floor hatch glowed from the ocean below—a green expanse of light and shadow that seemed to go down forever. Piper kept glancing over, afraid she’d see a monster’s face peeping in, or the water cannibals from her grandfather’s old stories; but all she saw was an occasional school of herring.

As she watched Jason work, she admired how easily he did each task, whether it was fixing a door or oiling saddles. It wasn’t just his strong arms and his skillful hands, though Piper liked those just fine, but the way he acted so upbeat and confident. He did what needed to be done without complaint. He kept his sense of humor, despite the fact that the guy had to be dead on his feet after not having slept the night before. Piper couldn’t blame Reyna for having a crush on him. When it came to work and duty, Jason was Roman to the core.

Piper thought about her mother’s tea party in Charleston. She wondered what the goddess had told Reyna a year ago, and why it had changed the way Reyna treated Jason. Had Aphrodite encouraged or discouraged her to like Jason?

Piper wasn’t sure, but she wished her mom hadn’t appeared in Charleston. Regular mothers were embarrassing enough. Godly glamour moms who invited your friends over for tea and guy talk—that was just mortifying.

Aphrodite had paid so much attention to Annabeth and Hazel, it had made Piper uneasy. When her mom got interested in somebody’s love life, usually that was a bad sign. It meant trouble was coming. Or as Aphrodite would say, twists and turns.

But also, Piper was secretly hurt not to have her mother to herself. Aphrodite had barely looked at her. She hadn’t said a word about Jason. She hadn’t bothered explaining her conversation with Reyna at all.

It was almost as if Aphrodite no longer found Piper interesting. Piper had gotten her guy. Now it was up to her to make things work, and Aphrodite had moved on to newer gossip as easily as she might toss out an old copy of a tabloid magazine.

All of you are such excellent stories, Aphrodite had said. I mean, girls.

Piper hadn’t appreciated that, but part of her had thought: Fine. I don’t want to be a story. I want a nice steady life with a nice steady boyfriend.

If only she knew more about making relationships work. She was supposed to be an expert, being the head counselor for Aphrodite cabin. Other campers at Camp Half-Blood came to her for advice all the time. Piper had tried to do her best, but with her own boyfriend, she was clueless. She was constantly second-guessing herself, reading too much into Jason’s expressions, his moods, his offhand comments. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn’t there be a happily-ever-after ride-into-the-sunset feeling all the time?