The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus #3)(83)

“What are you thinking?” Jason asked.

Piper realized she’d been making a sour face. In the reflection of the glass bay doors, she looked like she’d swallowed a teaspoon of salt.

“Nothing,” she said. “I mean…a lot of things. Kind of all at once.”

Jason laughed. The scar on his lip almost disappeared when he smiled. Considering all the stuff he’d been through, it was amazing that he could be in such a good mood.

“It’s going to work out,” he promised. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” Piper agreed. “Except I was just saying that to make Annabeth feel better.”

Jason shrugged. “Still, it’s true. We’re almost to the ancient lands. We’ve left the Romans behind.”

“And now they’re on their way to Camp Half-Blood to attack our friends.”

Jason hesitated, as if it was hard for him to put a positive spin on that. “Chiron will find a way to stall them. The Romans might take weeks to actually find the camp and plan their attack. Besides, Reyna will do what she can to slow things down. She’s still on our side. I know she is.”

“You trust her.” Piper’s voice sounded hollow, even to herself.

“Look, Pipes. I told you, you’ve got nothing to be jealous about.”

“She’s beautiful. She’s powerful. She’s so…Roman.”

Jason put down his hammer. He took her hand, which sent a tingle up her arm. Piper’s dad had once taken her to the Aquarium of the Pacific and shown her an electric eel. He told her that the eel sent out pulses that shocked and paralyzed its prey. Every time Jason looked at her or touched her hand, Piper felt like that.

“You’re beautiful and powerful,” he said. “And I don’t want you to be Roman. I want you to be Piper. Besides, we’re a team, you and me.”

She wanted to believe him. They’d been together, really, for months now. Still, she couldn’t get rid of her doubts, any more than Jason could get rid of the SPQR tattoo burned on his forearm.

Above them, the ship’s bell rang for dinner.

Jason smirked. “We’d better get up there. We don’t want Coach Hedge tying bells around our necks.”

Piper shuddered. Coach Hedge had threatened to do that after the Percy/Annabeth scandal, so he’d know if anyone sneaked out at night.

“Yeah,” she said regretfully, looking at the glass doors below their feet. “I guess we need dinner…and a good night’s sleep.”

Chapter 26

The next morning Piper woke to a different ship’s horn—a blast so loud it literally shook her out of bed.

She wondered if Leo was pulling another joke. Then the horn boomed again. It sounded like it was coming from several hundred yards away—from another vessel.

She rushed to get dressed. By the time she got up on deck, the others had already gathered—all hastily dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch.

Frank’s Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel’s hair was all blown to one side, as though she’d walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking.

About a hundred yards to port, a massive cruise ship glided past. Tourists waved at them from fifteen or sixteen rows of balconies. Some smiled and took pictures. None of them looked surprised to see an Ancient Greek trireme. Maybe the Mist made it look like a fishing boat, or perhaps the cruisers thought the Argo II was a tourist attraction.

The cruise ship blew its horn again, and the Argo II had a shaking fit.

Coach Hedge plugged his ears. “Do they have to be so loud?”

“They’re just saying hi,” Frank speculated.

“WHAT?” Hedge yelled back.

The ship edged past them, heading out to sea. The tourists kept waving. If they found it strange that the Argo II was populated by half-asleep kids in armor and pajamas and a man with goat legs, they didn’t let on.

“Bye!” Leo called, raising his smoking hand.

“Can I man the ballistae?” Hedge asked.

“No,” Leo said through a forced smile.

Hazel rubbed her eyes and looked across the glittering green water. “Where are—oh…Wow.”

Piper followed her gaze and gasped. Without the cruise ship blocking their view, she saw a mountain jutting from the sea less than half a mile to the north. Piper had seen impressive cliffs before. She’d driven Highway 1 along the California coast. She’d even fallen down the Grand Canyon with Jason and flown back up. But neither was as amazing as this massive fist of blinding white rock thrust into the sky. On one side, the limestone cliffs were almost completely sheer, dropping into the sea over a thousand feet below, as near as Piper could figure. On the other side, the mountain sloped in tiers, covered in green forest, so that the whole thing reminded Piper of a colossal sphinx, worn down over the millennia, with a massive white head and chest, and a green cloak over its back.

“The Rock of Gibraltar,” Annabeth said in awe. “At the tip of Spain. And over there—” She pointed south, to a more distant stretch of red and ochre hills. “That must be Africa. We’re at the mouth of the Mediterranean.”