ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter thirteen

━━━━━ VIOLET FELT LIKE she had been stabbed in the gut and had been run over. Her ears rang, her eyes stung with tears, and her chest felt hollow, as if someone had taken an unsharpened knife and carved out her heart for the hell of it.

               She had never felt so much guilt. If ... if that had been her fault—that wave of darkness—what had Bianca seen? Did Violet only confuse the new Hunter? Had she been the reason Bianca had become trapped inside the confines of Talos?

               Despite what she knew was true, Violet tried to tell herself she wasn't at fault.

               At the edge of the dump, they found a tow truck so old it might've been thrown away itself. But the engine started, and it had a full tank of fuel, so they decided to 'borrow' it.

               Thalia drove. She didn't seem as stunned as the rest of them. Violet couldn't help but be jealous.

               "The skeletons are still out there," she reminded them. "We need to keep moving."

               She navigated them through the desert, under clear blue skies, the sand so bright it hurt to look at it. Zoë sat up front with Thalia. Grover, Violet, and Percy sat in the back, leaning against the tow winch. The air was cool and dry, but the nice weather just seemed like an insult after losing Bianca.

               Violet glared at the sun for a moment, hoping Apollo could hear the curses in her head. He had the nerve to have a sunny day after what had happened. He must have known they had just lost Bianca.

               She turned the small figurine in her hand over, staring down at it. Something as small as the figurine had cost a girl's life. A girl's life. A girl who had everything to live for. She had just joined the Hunters, a new leaf at life. A girl who had a brother—

               Nico.

               Violet's heart lurched with new-found despair. How was she going to tell him? How could you tell someone that their sister was never coming back? That her death had been all Violet's fault?

               "It should've been me," Percy spoke up, breaking the silence. He stared at the statue in Violet's hand. "I should've gone into the giant."

               He stared at Violet. Maybe he expected her to agree, but the daughter of Eros stayed silent. She stared it for a moment before closing her hand around it.

               "Don't say that!" Grover panicked. "It's bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if ..." He sniffled. "Do you think anybody else would be my best friend?"

               Percy's gaze dropped. "Ah, Grover ..."

               Violet looked over, her brown eyes glassy with tears. "I'm sorry, Grover," she said softly.

               She wasn't exactly sure what she was apologizing for. For Bianca? For Bianca's death? For causing Bianca's death? Being useless? For not fighting hard enough to stop the Hunter?

               He wiped under his eyes with an oily cloth that left his face grimy like he had war paint on. "I'm ... I'm okay."

               But he wasn't okay. Ever since the encounter in New Mexico—whatever had happened when that wild wind blew through—he seemed really fragile, even more emotional than usual.

               Violet knew she was emotional. She had no problem feeling them, but that made her realize something. She couldn't just stop everything and grieve Bianca, despite how much she wanted to, she had to keep moving forward. She didn't have to stop thinking about their lost friend, but let Bianca's effort push them forward.

               They would succeed. Violet would make sure of that. She wasn't going to let Bianca's death be in vain.

🌷

The tow truck ran out of fuel at the edge of a river canyon. That was just as well because the road led to a dead end.

               Thalia got out and slammed the door. Immediately, one of the tires blew. "Oh—fucking awesome," she hissed. "What now?"

               Violet scanned the horizon. There wasn't much to see. Desert in all directions, occasional clumps of barren mountains plopped here and there. The canyon was the only thing interesting. The river itself wasn't very big, maybe fifty yards across, green water with a few rapids, but it carved a huge scar out of the desert. The rock cliffs dropped away below them.

               "There's a path," Grover said. "We could get to the river."

               Violet tried to see what he was talking about, and finally noticed a tiny ledge winding down the cliff face. She frowned and told him, "That's a goat path."

               "So?" said Grover.

               "I'm not a goat," she said. "And neither is anyone—but you."

               "We can make it," the satyr said. Then he reconsidered, "I think."

               Violet regarded the path again. She had gotten pretty good at climbing the climbing wall at Camp Half-Blood, but that was a lot different than the cliffs before her. Then she looked over at Thalia and saw how pale the daughter of Zeus had become. Her problem with heights ... she'd never be able to do it.

               "No," Percy spoke up. "I, uh, think we should go further upstream."

               Grover said, "But—"

               "Yeah," agreed Violet, linking her arm with the satyr's. "A walk will do us some good after sitting down for so long. Come on!"

               She glanced at Thalia. Her eyes said a quick Thank you.

               They followed the river for about half a mile before coming to an easier slope that led down to the water. On the shore was a canoe rental operation that was closed for the season, but Percy left a stack of golden drachma on the counter and a note saying 'I.O.U. two canoes'. The Stolls would be disappointed in him.

               "We need to go upstream," Zoë said.

               It was the first time Violet had heard the Hunter speak since the junkyard, and she was worried about how bad the Hunter sounded, like somebody with the flu.

               "But the rapids are too swift," Violet protested. Her eyes flickered to the green water below. She was not the best swimmer, just so you know. And just maybe she avoided swimming like the plague after Ian Browning threw her into a lake with no warning when they were ten.

               "Leave that to me," Percy promised.

               They put the canoes in the water. Thalia pulled Percy aside as they were getting the oars. Violet wasn't sure what they were talking about, and got even more confused when Thalia jutted her chin in Violet and Zoë's directions.

               Thalia turned and helped Grover get their canoe into the water. And Percy shuffled over and sat with Violet and Zoë, sitting down beside the Hunter. She raised her eyebrows at that, thinking back to the conversation she and Percy had in the junkyard. He seemed pretty okay with avoiding the Hunter at all costs.

               As it turned out, Percy didn't even need to control the currents. As soon as they got in the river, Percy looked over the edge of the boat and Violet followed him curiously. She found a couple of naiads staring up at them.

               They looked like regular teenage girls, the kind you'd see in any mall, except for the fact that they were underwater.

               Percy and the naiads had a conversation, something Violet couldn't understand as she didn't speak any language from the sea like him. As they finished, one naiad each chose a canoe and began pushing them up the river. They started so fast that Grover fell into his canoe with his hooves sticking up in the air.

               "I hate naiads," Zoë grumbled.

               A stream of water squirted up from the back of the boat and hit Zoë in the face.

               "She-devils!" Zoë went for her bow. But Violet sat forward and stopped her. They didn't need to offend the naiads that were helping them.

               "It's okay, Zoë," she said.

               "Whoa," Percy said. "They're just playing."

               "Cursed water spirits," muttered Zoë, glaring in the direction of the naiads. "They've never forgiven me."

               "Forgiven you for what?" Violet asked.

               The Hunter slung her bow back over her shoulder. "It was a long time ago. Never mind."

               They sped up the river, the cliffs looming up on either side of them.

               "What happened to Bianca wasn't your fault," Percy told Zoë. Quickly, his eyes flickered over to Violet; his words were meant for her, too. "It was my fault. I let her go."

               Violet figured he was trying to give Zoë some excuse to start yelling at him, but the Hunter just let her shoulders slump.

               "No, Percy. I pushed her into going on the quest. I was too anxious. She was a powerful half-blood. She had a kind heart, as well. I ... I thought she would be the next lieutenant."

               "But you're the lieutenant."

               She gripped the strap of her quiver. She looked more tired than Violet had ever seen her. "Nothing can last forever, Percy. Over two thousand years I have led the Hunt, and my wisdom has not improved. Now Artemis herself is in danger."

               "Zoë, you can't blame yourself for that," said Violet.

               "If I had insisted on going with her—"

               "That you could've fought off something so powerful enough to kidnap Artemis?" Violet raised her eyebrows. "It's not your fault."

               Zoë didn't answer.

               The daughter of Eros knew she was being a hypocrite. Cursing herself to bare the guilt of Bianca's death, but trying to release others from the same burden. Zoë had done something during that battle, but what had Violet done?

               The cliffs along the river were getting taller. Long shadows fell across the water, making it a lot colder, even though the day was bright.

               Percy took Riptide out of his pocket. Zoë looked at the pen, and her expression was pained.

               "You made this," he told her, holding out the weapon.

               "Who told thee?"

               "I had a dream about it. I saw a girl that looked like you, and she sounded like you, too."

               Violet tried to keep her reaction to a minimum. She snuck a glance in Percy's direction, trying to judge his expression. That dream back on the SUN WEST LINE was odd. She had never dreamt of something like that, but then ... she had just chalked it up to the stuff to do with Annabeth and Artemis.

               Zoë studied Percy. Violet wasn't sure what her reaction was going to be, but the Hunter just sighed. "It was a gift. And a mistake."

               Violet chewed on her bottom lip. "Who was the hero?" she pried.

               Zoë shook her head. "Do not make me say his name. I swore never to speak it again."

               Violet tucked her left leg under. Maybe if she had an encyclopedia of all Greek heroes, she could try and figure it out. The hero's face flashed in her mind. Zoë stared at her, her eyebrows knitted.

               "Did thou have the same dream?"

               The daughter of Eros straightened. "No. Well—maybe. I'm not sure."

               Percy stared at her. "You had the dream? Why didn't you tell me?"

               "You didn't tell me about your's!" Violet said, her voice taking a defensive tone. "Besides, I thought it was nothing. I mean—it's clearly not."

               The son of Poseidon frowned at her, but he turned to Zoë, and said, "You act like we should know him."

               "I am sure you do, hero. Don't all you boys want to be just like him?"

               Zoë's voice was so bitter, Violet decided it was better to let the topic drop.

               Percy looked down at the sword in his hand. "Your mother was a water goddess?" he asked.

               "Yes, Pleoine. She had five daughters. My sisters and I. The Hesperides."

               Violet perked up with recognition. "The girls who lived at the edge of a garden in the west? With the golden apple and a dragon guarding it."

               "Yes," Zoë said wistfully. "Ladon."

               "But I thought there were only four sisters?" Violet said. She had only ever read about four, not five.

               "There are now. I was exiled. Forgotten. Blotted out as if I never existed."

               The daughter of Eros slumped. She regretted bringing it up. "Oh ... I'm sorry, Zoë."

               "Why?" Percy asked bluntly.

               Zoë pointed to the pen. "Because I betrayed my family and helped a hero. You won't find that in the legend either. He never spoke of me. After his direct assault on Ladon failed, I gave him the idea of how to steal the apples, how to trick my father, but he took all the credit."

               "But—" Percy started to protest, but something made him turn around.

               Violet noticed it, too. The canoe was slowing down. She looked ahead, and saw why. This was as far as the naiads could take them. The river was blocked. A dam the size of a football stadium stood in their path.

               "Hoover Dam," Thalia said. "It's huge."

               The five stood at the river's edge, looking up at a curve of concrete that loomed between the cliffs. People were walking along the top of the dam. They were so tiny that they looked like fleas.

               The naiads had left with a lot of grumbling—of course, Violet couldn't understand anything, but it was obvious they hated this dam blocking up their nice river. The questers canoes floated back downstream, swirling in the wake from the dam's discharge vents.

               "Seven hundred feet tall," Percy said.

               "Built in the 1930s," Violet added.

               "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said.

               Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States."

               Zoë stared at us. "How do you know all that?"

               "Annabeth," said Violet, her voice fond. "She likes architecture."

               "She was nuts about monuments," Thalia said.

               "Spouted facts all the time." Grover sniffled. "So annoying."

               "She should be here," Violet said, staring up at the place sadly. "She'd love to see this."

               The others nodded. Zoë was still looking at them strangely, but Violet didn't care. It seemed like cruel fate that they had come to Hoover Dam, one of Annabeth's personal favorites, and she wasn't here to see it.

               "We should go up there," Percy suggested. "For her sake. Just to say we've been."

               "You are mad," Zoë decided. "But that's where the road is." She pointed to a huge parking garage next to the top of the dam. "And so, sightseeing it is."

🌷

They had to walk for almost an hour before they found a path that led up to the road. It came up on the east side of the river. Then the five straggled back toward the dam. It was cold and windy on top. On one side, a big lake spread out, ringed by barren desert mountains. On the other side, the dam dropped away like the world's most dangerous skateboard ramp, down to the river several hundred feet below, and water that churned from the dam's vents

               Thalia walked in the middle of the road, far away from the edges. Grover kept sniffing the wind and looking nervous. He didn't say anything, but Violet knew he smelled monsters.

               "Are they close, close?" she asked him.

               The satyr shook his head. "Maybe not close, close. The wind on the dam, the desert all around us ... the scent can probably carry for miles. But it's coming from several directions. I don't like that."

               Violet didn't either. It was already Wednesday, only two days until winter solstice, and they still had a long way to go. They didn't need any more monsters to hold them back, to try and kill them either.

               "There's a snack bar in the visitor center," Thalia said.

               "You've been here before?" Percy asked.

               "Once. To see the guardians." She pointed to the far end of the dam. Carved into the side of the cliff was a little plaza with two big bronze statues. They looked kind of like Oscar statues with wings.

               "They were dedicated to Zeus when the dam was built," Thalia explained. "A gift from Athena."

               Tourists were clustered all around them. They seemed to be looking at the statues' feet.

               "What are they doing?" Percy asked.

               "Rubbing the toes," said Thalia. "They think it's good luck."

               "Why's that?" asked Violet.

               The daughter of Zeus shook her head. "Mortals get crazy ideas. They don't know the statues are sacred to Zeus, but they know there's something special about them."

               Violet wrinkled her nose. "Gross. Think about all those germs. Just—ew."

               "When you were here last, did they talk to you or anything?" Percy asked.

               Thalia's expression darkened. Violet could tell that she'd come here before hoping for exactly that—some kind of sign from her dad. Some connection. It seemed the daughter of Zeus had left empty-handed.

               "No," she said with a tense jaw. "They don't do anything. They're just big metal statues."

               Violet frowned and looked away. She thought back to the last big metal statue they had run into. That hadn't ended well, but she decided it was better to not bring it up.

               "Let us find the dam snack bar," Zoë said. "We should eat while we can."

               Grover cracked a smile. "The dam snack bar?"

               Zoë blinked. "Yes. What is funny?"

               "Nothing," Grover said, trying to keep a straight face. "I could use some dam French fries."

               Even Thalia smiled at that. "And I need to use the dam restroom."

               Maybe it was the fact that they were so tired and strung out emotionally, but Violet started laughing loudly, holding her stomach and curling over. Soon, Percy, Thalia, and Grover joined her, while Zoë just looked at them.

               "I do not understand," the Hunter said flatly.

               "I want to use the dam water fountain," Grover said.

               "And ..." Thalia tried to catch her breath. "I want to buy a dam T-shirt."

               Violet laughed harder at that. And she probably would've continued, until she noticed that Grover and Percy had quieted down.

               The satyr was looking around, confused. "Did I just hear a cow?" he asked.

               "What?" Violet laughed lightly. "A dam cow?"

               "No," Grover said. "I'm serious."

               Violet's smile melted. She sobered up, and tried to listen out for any cow noises, but she didn't hear anything.

               Zoë listened. "I hear nothing."

               Thalia was looking at the son of Poseidon. "Percy, are you okay?"

               "Yeah," he said. "You guys go ahead. I'll be right in."

               Violet frowned. "You okay? Something wrong?"

               "Nothing's wrong," he promised. "I ... I just need a minute. To think."

               They hesitated, but Percy looked pretty upset. Reluctantly, they headed into the visitor center without him.

🌷

The café was packed with people. But Violet didn't expect anything else with such turbulent winds and it was already around noon. The four decided to split up, figuring that was the best way to tackle the place. Thalia and Grover would go get food and Violet and Zoë would find them all a table with enough chairs to fit them.

               Violet found a round table, half-rimmed with a booth in the corner. She claimed a seat happily, ignoring the crumbs littering the table. "Here, Zoë," she said, waving the Hunter over.

               Zoë frowned as she sat beside the daughter of Eros. "I do not get the ... joke," she said, crossing her fingers. "Would thee explain?"

               "The dam joke?" said Violet. "Yeah, of course. It's just a play on two words that sound alike, but with two different spellings and meanings. So dam, like Hoover Dam, is spelled ... shit—I don't know, I'm dyslexic. But damn, a cuss word, is spelled ... differently. Don't ask me to spell, I can't for the life of me."

               Zoë frowned. She crossed her arms, and leaned back in her seat. "That is not funny."

               "Jokes are never funny when you have to explain them," said Violet. "Besides, after Bianca, I think we just need a good laugh."

               The Hunter looked down. She pursed her lips and swallowed heavily. "Bianca talked about thee a lot. She always said thee tried to make her and Nico feel welcomed at Westover Hall, despite showing up after they did."

               "She did?"

               "She said thou were a very welcoming person. A happy soul."

               Violet's throat tightened. "Thanks, Zoë. I guess." She snuck a glance at the Hunter, who looked lost in thought. "That was supposed to make me feel better, right?"

               "Perhaps." Zoë looked conflicted. "To be honest, I am not sure why I am telling thee. Maybe because Bianca talked highly of thee. Maybe because thou has the spirit of a Hunter, like Lady Artemis said."

               "Says," Violet corrected. "Not said. We'll save Artemis."

               Zoë's eyes locked on her. "Thee seems uncomfortable with praise. That's odd, thee act so confidently."

               "I'm not uncomfortable with praise," Violet said quickly. "I'm just ..." She trailed off.

               "Uncomfortable with praise," insisted the Hunter. "But Bianca was right. And so was Lady Artemis. Thou would make an incredible Hunter."

               "Artemis is right," Violet corrected again. "Not about the Hunter thing, but about her being alive. She's not ... gone."

               Could you ever say a god died? That they weren't alive no more? They were immortal. Ever-living, never dying. They would see the world to its end, even if that was sooner than what anybody had planned.

               Zoë narrowed her eyes at the daughter of Eros. "How is thou so sure my lady is not gone?"

               "I just am," said Violet, her shoulders deflating. She knew how pathetic she sounded. "It's this intuition. It's the same way I know Annabeth's alright."

               The Hunter watched her for a moment, and Violet got the impression Zoë was trying to read into her thoughts. If that was even possible, she shook her head ( perhaps to rattle the thoughts around and to confuse Zoë before she could get any answers ) and took a napkin to wipe off the table.

               "Back in the canoe," she changed the subject, "you said something about Ladon, golden apples, and the Hesperides."

               Zoë watched her carefully. "Yes, I did."

               "And you asked if I had the same dream as Percy," Violet said. "But I don't think I did. Not entirely, at least. He talked about seeing a girl that looked like you, but I only ever saw a guy—a hero. I think I was seeing it unfold through your eyes."

               Violet glanced at the Hunter, wondering if she could continue. She had already gotten this far, she might as well ask. "What did Hercules look like?"

               Zoë sighed and closed her eyes. "Do not make me describe him. I do not even want to think of his ridiculous face."

               "So it was Hercules?" asked Violet. "He's the one who got you exiled?"

               "Mine own actions are what caused me to be exiled, Violet."

               "But he left you stranded," said the daughter of Eros. "He left you, after you had helped him, and took the accomplishment of defeating Ladon as all his own. He blotted you out as if you never existed. That's on him."

               Zoë kept her eyes trained on the table. "I guess thou are correct," she said. "But do not minimize mine own mistakes, either. I betrayed mine own sisters."

               "And I bet you thought you were doing what was best," Violet said.

               Zoë didn't respond. She stared down at their table, seemingly lost in old memories. Violet leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. She turned the purple charm over to examine it.

               "Dionysus brought you up, you know," the daughter of Eros spoke up, making the Hunter look at her. "When he was talking about girls being betrayed by heroes. I didn't understand what he meant then, but I understand now."

               "Dionysus would hate heroes for that, of course," said Zoë. "His wife, Ariadne, suffered the same. Theseus, Son of Poseidon, discarded her like a piece of trash." She looked at Violet at the words of 'Son of Poseidon', not-so-secretly hinting at the conversation at Cloudcroft.

               "I know what you're about to say," she said quickly. "About Percy being a son of Poseidon, but I don't like him. Seriously. I'm not into tragic heroes. I don't want anything to do with tragedies."

               Zoë's lips quirked upward into a smile. "A daughter of love would say that."

               Violet shook her head, figuring that the Hunter meant it fondly and not as an insult. "Mr. D also brought up my parents," she spoke up, the god's words ringing in her head; '... considering your ... parents.' "I thought it was odd. He said that he was shocked you wanted anything to do with me considering my parents, but you don't seem to care about Eros."

               "And what about thy mother?" said Zoë. "Lord Dionysus said 'parents', not a parent."

               "What about my mom?" Violet asked, her voice going defensive. Her hand clamped over the silver bracelet strung on her wrist.

               Zoë raised her eyebrows. "Your reaction says a lot. It is not uncommon for young heroes to have bad relationships with their mortal parents. It is rather common. The heroes want to go out and save the world, but their mortal parent wants to keep them safe. Is that what happened between you and Dahlia?"

               "You know her name?"

               "I've met her. At one point, she even considered joining our ranks." Zoë's eyes garnered a far-away look. "But she rejected the offer."

               Violet shook her head. Artemis had already told her that. "But why would Mr. D know about that?"

               Zoë shrugged, but it didn't look exactly genuine. "I have no clue."

               But before Violet could grill her for any more answers, she caught sight of Grover and Thalia escaping the crowd with trays in hand. She frowned, dusted off her pants, and waved them over.

               "I didn't know what to get you, Vi," said Thalia, dropping her black tray on the table, "so I got you the same thing as me."

               "Thanks," said Violet, grabbing one of two burritos on the tray. She unwrapped it, taking a bite.

               She was a couple more bites in when Percy ran up to the table, looking winded. She was in the middle of her fourth bite when he told them frantically, "We need to leave! Now!"

               "But we just got our burritos!" Thalia cried.

               Zoë dropped her Guacamole Grande burrito and stood up. She muttered an Ancient Greek curse under her breath. "He's right! Look."

               Violet dropped her food, her stomach grumbling for more, but she ignored it. She stood her, taking a long look around. The café windows wrapped all the way around the observation floor, which gave her a beautiful panoramic view of the skeletal army that had come to kill them.

               She counted two on the east side of the dam road, blocking the way to Arizona. Three more on the west side, guarding Nevada. All of them were armed with batons and pistols.

               But their immediate problem was a lot closer. The three skeleton warriors appeared on the stairs, looking pissed with their ghoulish faces. They saw Percy from across the cafeteria and clattered their teeth.

               "Elevator!" Grover said. They bolted in that direction, but the doors opened with a pleasant ding, and three more warriors stepped out. Every warrior was accounted for, minus the one Bianca had blasted to flames in New Mexico. They were completely surrounded.

               Grover's eyes lit up, looking at the Guacamole Grande burrito still in his hands. He reeled back his arm, and shouted, "Burrito fight!" before he flung his burrito at the nearest skeleton.

               Grover's lunch hit the skeleton and knocked his skull clean off his shoulders. Violet wasn't sure what the other kids in the café saw, but they went crazy and started throwing their burritos and baskets of chips and sodas at each other, shrieking and screaming. Maybe with delight or fear, or both, she wasn't clear on that, either.

               The skeletons tried to aim their guns, but it was hopeless. Bodies and food and drinks were flying everywhere.

               In the chaos, Thalia and Percy tackled the other two skeletons on the stairs and sent them flying into the condiment table. Then the five all raced downstairs, Guacamole Grandes whizzing past their heads like missiles.

               "What now?" Violet asked as they burst outside. "We can't fight them!"

               No one had an answer for her. The warriors on the road were closing in from either direction. The five ran across the street to the plaza with the winged bronze statues, but that just put their backs to the mountain.

               The skeletons moved forward, forming a crescent around them. Their brethren from the café were running up to join them. One was still putting its skull back on its shoulders. Another was covered in ketchup and mustard. Two more had burritos lodged in their ribcages. They didn't look happy about it. They drew batons and advanced.

               "Five against eleven," Zoë muttered. "And they cannot die."

               "No need to remind us," Violet grumbled, bumping into Percy.

               "It's been nice adventuring with you guys," Grover said, his voice trembling.

               Something seemed to have caught Percy's attention. He glanced over his shoulder, and at the statues' feet. "Whoa," he said. "Their toes really are bright."

               "Percy," Violet chided. "Not the time."

               "Thalia," said the son of Poseidon, his expression one of realization. "Pray to your dad. To Zeus."

               Thalia glared at him. "He never answers."

               "Just this once," Percy pleaded. "Ask for help. I think ... I think the statues can give us some luck."

               Six skeletons raised their guns. The other five came forward with batons. Fifty feet away. Forty feet.

               "Do it!" Percy yelled.

               "No!" Thalia said. "He won't answer me."

               "This time is different!"

               "Who says?"

               Percy hesitated. "Athena—I think."

               Thalia scowled like she was sure the boy had gone crazy.

               "Try it," Grover pleaded.

               Thalia closed her eyes. Her lips moved in a silent prayer.

               Nothing happened. Violet wasn't shocked.

               The skeletons closed in. Percy raised Riptide in defense. Thalia held up her shield. Violet aimed an arrow with a deeply-etched scowl. And Zoë pushed Grover behind her and aimed an arrow at a skeleton's head.

               Then a shadow fell over Violet. For a moment, she thought it was the shadow of Death. Then she realized it was the shadow of an enormous wing. The skeletons looked up too late. A flash of bronze, and all five of the baton-wielders were swept aside.

               The other skeletons opened fire. The bronze angels stepped in front of the questers and folded their wings like shields. Bullets pinged off them like rain off a corrugated roof. Both angels slashed outwards, and the skeletons went flying across the road.

               "Man, it feels good to stand up!" the first angel said. His voice sounded tinny and rusty, like he hadn't had a drink since he'd been built.

               "Will ya look at my toes?" the other said. "Holy Zeus, what were those tourists thinking?"

               As stunned as Violet was by the angels, she was more concerned with the skeletons. A few of them were getting up again, reassembling, bony hands groping for their weapons. "Hey, we still have trouble!" she shouted to them, pointing wildly to the skeletons.

               "Get us out of here!" Thalia yelled.

               Both angels looked down at her. "Zeus's kid?"

               "Yes!"

               "Could I get a please, Miss Zeus's Kid?" an angel asked.

               "Please!"

               The angels looked at each other and shrugged.

               "Could use a stretch," one decided.

               With ease, one of the angels grabbed Thalia, Violet, and Percy, and the other grabbed Zoë and Grover, and they flew straight up, over the dam and the river, the skeleton warriors shrinking to tiny specks below us and the sound of gunfire echoing off the sides of the mountains.

🌷 APR. 19TH, 2023 / zoë and vi <33333

not edited at all so probs major typos

but i'm so excited to write this story that i'm just writing chapter after chapter

let me just say,, botl is going to HURTT

anyways,, thoughts?? opinions??

what do you think is going on with dahlia?