CHAPTER SEVEN

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"You are in so much trouble," Clarisse said.

Sylvie wanted to die a little bit at that. They'd just finished a ship tour they didn't want, through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors. They'd seen the coal bunker, the boilers and engine, which huffed and groaned like it would explode any minute. They'd seen the pilothouse and the powder magazine and gunnery deck (Clarisse's favorite) with two Dahlgren smoothbore cannons on the port and starboard sides and a Brooke nine-inch rifled gun fore and aft—all specially refitted to fire celestial bronze cannon balls.

Everywhere they went, dead Confederate sailors stared at the quartet, their ghostly bearded faces shimmering over their skulls. They approved of Sylvie and Annabeth because they said they were from Louisiana and Virginia, but struggled with the fact the girls weren't white. Whatever. They were interested in Percy, too, because his name was Jackson—like the Southern general—but then he ruined it by telling them he was from New York. They all hissed and muttered curses about Yankees.

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted Sylvie hold his hand, which looked comical. The big guy being comforted by the smallest one in the group.

Finally, they were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham captain's quarters were about the size of a walk-in closet, but still much bigger than any room on board. The table was set with white linen and china. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and Dr. Peppers were served by skeletal crewmen. Sylvie didn't want to eat anything served by ghosts, but her hunger overruled her fear.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse told them smugly. "Mr. D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV."

Break over. Sylvie was fearful again.

"Did they give you this ship?" Percy asked.

"'Course not. My father did."

"Ares?"

Clarisse sneered. "You think your daddy is the only one with sea power? The spirits of the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That's their curse for being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them. Won't you, Captain?"

The captain stood behind her looking stiff and angry. His glowing green eyes fixed Sylvie, Annabeth, and Percy with a hungry stare "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma'am, peace at last, we'll do anything. Destroy anyone."

Clarisse smiled. "Destroy anyone. I like that."

Tyson gulped.

"Clarisse," Annabeth said. "Luke might be after the Fleece, too. We saw him. He's got the coordinates and he's heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters—"

"Good! I'll blow him out of the water."

Sylvie had to admit. She sort of loved Clarisse's energy, as unpopular as that opinion might have been.

"You don't understand," Annabeth said. "We have to combine forces. Let us help you—"

"No!" Clarisse pounded the table. "This is my quest, smart girl! Finally I get to be the hero, and you two will not steal my chance."

Her eyes had been narrowed on Percy and Annabeth as she said it. Either she actually didn't hate Sylvie (which was a good thing), or she just didn't think Sylvie was that big of a threat (which was less than ideal, a little ego bruising).

"Where's your cabin mates?" Sylvie found herself asking. "Where's Phoenix? You were allowed to take two friends with you, weren't you?"

Clarisse grumbled, "Phoenix needs to learn how to get a grip. He was going to go with me, but then that Aphrodite girl asked him not to, and he dropped out! Just like that!"

That checked out.

"So," Percy summarized, "even the people in your own cabin won't help you?"

"Shut up, Prissy! I don't need them! Or you!"

Percy tried, "Clarisse, Tantalus is using you. He doesn't care about the camp. He'd love to see it destroyed. He's setting you up to fail."

"No! I don't care what the Oracle—" She stopped herself.

"What?" Percy said. "What did the Oracle tell you?"

"Nothing." Clarisse's ears turned pink. "All you need to know is that I'm finishing this quest and you're not helping. On the other hand, I can't let you go..."

"So we're prisoners?" Annabeth asked.

"Guests. For now." Clarisse propped her feet up on the white linen tablecloth and opened another Dr. Pepper. "Captain, take them below. Assign them hammocks on the berth deck. If they don't mind their manners, show them how we deal with enemy spies."

Sylvie probably shouldn't have asked, "But what threat are they if they lost the war?" in response. Tip on how to lose favor of a dead, Confederate army: Follow in Sylvie's footsteps and utter dumbass questions like that.

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The hammocks were surprisingly comfortable, but maybe that was because Sylvie had already slept in a hammock a million times before. There were a series of them tied between trees back at home. She could lay in one, stare up at the stars, find the constellations that her dad taught her in a right state of mind, and forget that her life kind of sucked. Sometimes on those nights, Sylvie would accidentally fall asleep, so falling asleep on the CSS Birmingham came easy to her.

And then she woke to alarm bells ringing throughout the ship.

The captain's gravelly voice: "All hands on deck! Find Lady Clarisse! Where is that girl?"

When Sylvie joined Annabeth and Tyson on the spar deck, the captain of the crew made one of his skeletal men tell Sylvie they were approaching the entrance to the Sea of Monsters. Apparently he was giving her the silent treatment for her statement the day before.

The sky was overcast. The air was hazy and humid, like steam from an iron.

"Where's Percy?" Sylvie asked.

Before they could even answer, Percy joined them. He looked extremely troubled, as if he were about to throw up. Either he was vehemently seasick, or something bad happened since the last time Percy saw them. The last time, being, dead asleep on a hammock. That led Sylvie to believe—

"Another dream?" Annabeth asked him.

Percy nodded, but he didn't say anything. He must have really been bothered, and that didn't leave Sylvie feeling optimistic at all (Though, when was she?).

Clarisse came up the stairs right then. She grabbed a pair of binoculars from a zombie officer and peered toward the horizon. "At last. Captain, full steam ahead!"

Sylvie looked in the same direction as Clarisse was, but she couldn't see much. The state of the sky was still pretty shitty. Only if she squinted real hard could she make out a couple of dark fuzzy splotched in the distance.

The engine groaned as they increased speed.

Tyson muttered nervously, "Too much strain on the pistons. Not meant for deep water."

Sylvie wasn't sure how he knew that, but—big shocker about to come at you here—it made her nervous.

After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of them came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea—an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.

"Oh, a hurricane," Sylvie analyzed with a growing grimace. "That's great. And I'm expelled from camp. All great things!"

Clarisse just said, "It's not a hurricane. Charybdis."

Annabeth paled. "Are you crazy?"

"Only way into the Sea of Monsters," Clarisse pointed to the top of the cliffs. "Straight between Charybdis and her sister Scylla."

Sylvie's arms crossed incredulously. "I'm sorry, the hurricane is alive? It has a sister?"

"She has a sister. Apparently," Percy corrected. He seemed just as clueless as her.

Annabeth sighed. There was no way it had only been around two days on a quest with the two of them. She tiredly explained, "They're sea monsters. Not hurricanes. The two of them are counterparts of each other."

"Amazing," Percy quipped, not caring at all. "Why don't we just sail around them? The sea is wide open!"

Clarisse rolled her eyes as Sylvie nodded in agreement. "Don't you two know anything? If I tried to sail around them, they would just appear in my path again. If you want to get into the Sea of Monsters, you have to sail through them."

"What about the Clashing Rocks?" Annabeth said.

"Oh, yes," Sylvie nodded. "The Clashing Rocks. How could we forget?"

"Foolish of us, Applejack, really," Percy played along. Sylvie didn't even protest the dumb nickname he'd given her—for the bit, of course.

Clarisse snapped, "Would you two quit it?" Then, "I can't blow apart rocks with my cannons. Monsters, on the other hand..."

"You are crazy," Annabeth decided.

"Watch and learn, Wise Girl." Clarisse turned to the captain. "Set course for Charybdis!"

"Aye, m'lady."

The engine groaned, the iron plating rattled, and the ship began to pick up speed. The boilers were heating up so much Sylvie could feel the deck getting warm beneath her feet. The smokestacks billowed. The red Ares flag whipped in the wind.

As they got closer to the monsters, the sound of Charybdis got louder and louder—a horrible wet roar like the galaxy's biggest toilet being flushed. Every time Charybdis inhaled, the ship shuddered and lurched forward. Every time she exhaled, they rose in the water and were buffeted by ten-foot waves.

Sylvie knew that she thought this a lot, but this time you had to believe her—They had no chance of survival and were going to die.

Undead sailors calmly went about their business on the spar deck. Sylvie supposed they'd fought a losing cause before, so this didn't bother them. Or maybe they didn't care about getting destroyed because they were already deceased. Neither thought made her feel better. There was one thing Sylvie was good at, and that was panicking.

Annabeth stood next to Percy, who was standing next to Sylvie. She asked him, "You still have your thermos full of wind?"

Percy nodded. "But it's too dangerous to use with a whirlpool like that. More wind might just make things worse."

Sylvie didn't think it was possible for her to be more uncertain, but her mind had found a way. If Percy and Annabeth believed death was imminent—the most talented demigods her age—then there wasn't any denying it. Shit was fucked.

"What about controlling the water?" Annabeth asked. "You're Poseidon's son. You've done it before."

Sylvie spluttered rapidly. "You have?"

Now wasn't really the time, but she was so taken aback.

"Yeah, I guess," Percy shrugged. It seemed like nothing was ever a big deal to him. Sylvie didn't know how a person could survive like that. To Sylvie, everything was a big deal. Responding I guess to accepting your supernatural abilities was a privilege that she didn't have. Sylvie yearned to be so nonchalant about it—to actually be able to make use of the gifts she was born with.

Percy closed his eyes then and tried to control the water just as Annabeth had implied. Sylvie watched him attempt to calm the sea, and... nothing was happening.

"I—I can't," he said miserably.

"We need a backup plan," Annabeth said. "This isn't going to work."

"Annabeth is right," Tyson said. "Engine's no good."

"What d'you mean?" Sylvie asked, but she really shouldn't have.

"Pressure. Pistons need fixing."

Before he could explain, the cosmic toilet flushed with a mighty roaaar! The ship lurched forward and Sylvie was thrown to the deck. Percy landed on top of her in a heap and Sylvie wheezed at the impact. They were in the whirlpool.

"Full reverse!" Clarisse screamed above the noise. The sea churned around them, waves crashing over the deck. The iron plating was now so hot it steamed. "Get us within firing range! Make ready the starboard cannons!"

Dead confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller ground into reverse, trying to slow the ship, but they kept sliding toward the center of the vortex.

A zombie sailor burst out of the hold and ran to Clarisse. His gray uniform was smoking. His beard was on fire. "Boiler room overheating, ma'am! She's going to blow!"

"Well, get down there and fix it!"

"Can't!" the sailor yelled. "We're vaporizing in the heat."

Clarisse pounded the side of the casemate. "All I need is a few more minutes! Just enough to get in range!"

"We're going in too fast," the captain said grimly. "Prepare yourself for death."

"No!" Tyson bellowed. "I can fix it."

Clarisse looked at him incredulously. "You?"

"He's a Cyclops," Annabeth said. "He's immune to fire. And he knows mechanics."

"Go!" yelled Clarisse.

"Tyson, no!" Percy grabbed his arm. "It's too dangerous!"

He patted Percy's hand. "Only way, brother." Then his one eye met Sylvie's, and she hadn't really expected to get so emotional about eye contact with a Cyclops, but here they were. His expression was determined—confident, even—but it made Sylvie sad. Tyson gently placed a hand on her shoulder before she could say any words. "Boots," he just acknowledged in a bittersweet tone. "I will fix it. Be right back."

As Sylvie watched him follow the smoldering sailor down the hatch, she had a terrible feeling. She wanted to run after him, but the ship lurched again—and then Sylvie saw Charybdis.

Not a hurricane.

Charybdis appeared only a few hundred yards away, through a swirl of mist and smoke and water. The first thing Sylvie noticed was the reef—a black crag of coral with a fig tree clinging to the top, an oddly peaceful thing in the middle of a maelstrom. All around it, water curved into a funnel, like the light around a black hole. Then Sylvie saw the horrible thing anchored to the reef just below the waterline—an enormous mouth with slimy lips and mossy teeth the size of rowboats. And worse, the teeth had braces, bands of corroded scummy metal with pieces of fish and driftwood and floating garbage stuck between them.

Charybdis was an orthodontist's nightmare. She was nothing but a huge black maw with bad teeth alignment and a serious overbite, and she'd done nothing but eat without brushing after meals. As Sylvie watched, the entire sea around her was sucked into the void—sharks, schools of fish, a giant squid. And Sylvie realized that in a few seconds, the CSS Birmingham would be next.

"Lady Clarisse," the captain shouted. "Starboard and forward guns are in range!"

"Fire!" Clarisse ordered.

"Lady Clarisse," Sylvie mocked the sound of an old pirate, trying to blend in with the soldiers. "We should stop trying this horrible plan and turn around!"

"Duvall, I know that's you!" Clarisse growled back.

Three rounds were blasted into the monster's maw. One blew off the edge of an incisor. Another disappeared into her gullet. The third hit one of Charybdis's retaining bands and shot back at them, snapping the Ares flag off its pole.

"Again!" Clarisse ordered. The gunners reloaded, but Sylvie knew it was hopeless. They would have to pound the monster a hundred more times to do any real damage, and they didn't have that long. They were being sucked in too fast.

Then the vibrations in the deck changed. The hum of the engine got stronger and steadier. The ship shuddered and they started pulling away from the mouth.

"Tyson did it!" Annabeth said.

"Wait!" Clarisse said. "We need to stay close!"

"We 'need to stay' the hell alive!" cried Sylvie. She got antsy when she panicked.

Percy agreed, "We'll die if we don't move away!"

Sylvie gripped the rail as the ship fought against the suction. The broken Ares flag raced past them and lodged in Charybdis's braces. They weren't making much progress, but at least they were holding their own. Tyson had somehow given them just enough juice to keep the ship from being sucked in.

Suddenly, the mouth snapped shut. The sea died to absolute calm. Water washed over Charybdis.

Then, just as quickly as it had closed, the mouth exploded open, spitting out a wall of water, ejecting everything inedible, including their cannonballs, one of which slammed into the side of the CSS Birmingham with a ding like the bell on a carnival game.

They were thrown backward on a wave that must've been forty feet high. The ship was capsizing, and they were spinning out of control, hurtling toward the cliffs on the opposite side of the strait.

Another smoldering sailor burst out of the hold. He stumbled into Clarisse, almost knocking them both overboard. "The engine is about to blow!"

"Where's Tyson?" Percy demanded.

"Still down there," the sailor said. "Holding it together somehow, though I don't know for how much longer."

The captain said, "We have to abandon ship."

"No!" Clarisse yelled.

"We have no choice, m'lady. The hull is already cracking apart! She can't—"

He never finished his sentence. Quick as lightning, something brown and green shot from the sky, snatched up the captain, and lifted him away. All that was left were his leather boots.

"Scylla!" a sailor yelled, as another column of reptilian flesh shot from the cliffs and snapped him up. It happened so fast it was like watching a laser beam rather than a monster. Sylvie couldn't even make out the thing's face, just a flash of teeth and scales.

"Everyone get below!" Percy yelled.

"We can't!" Clarisse drew her sword, tried swiping at the monster, but was way too slow. "Below deck is in flames."

"Lifeboats!" Annabeth said. "Quick!"

"They'll never get clear of the cliffs," Clarisse said. "We'll all be eaten."

"We're have to try the lifeboats. Percy, the thermos."

"We can't just leave Tyson!" Sylvie cried.

"We have to get the boats ready!"

Clarisse took Annabeth's command. She and a few of her undead sailors uncovered one of the two emergency rowboats while Scylla's heads rained from the sky life a meteor shower with teeth, picking off Confederate sailors one after another.

"Get the other boat." Percy threw Sylvie the thermos. "I'll get Tyson."

" You—You can't!" she protested, trying really fucking hard to tame the wavering of her voice. "Not you, too! The heat will kill you!"

He didn't listen. Percy ran for the boiler room hatch, but before he could go anywhere, Scylla snatched him up by his knapsack.

"Percy!" Sylvie screamed.

She felt paralyzed in fear as she saw it all go down. Percy was a hundred feet in the air, the side of his face only inches from the cliff. He swung an uncapped Riptide behind himself and managed to jab Scylla in her beady yellow eye. Sylvie thought everything couldn't get any more scarier, but then Scylla grunted.

Then, she dropped Percy.

Then, the CSS Birmingham exploded.

Then, Sylvie knew nothing but darkness.

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BAILEY YAPS...

"THIS IS A BORING CHAPTER BAILEY" everyone boos in unison... "I'M AWARE OF THAT" Bailey cries in response... Choose kindness please. I can't control the SOM plot. This is beyond my control. If i could change it I would.

On the bright side I could probably count on my hand how many chapters of this act we have left. No hate to sylvie but a little hate to the SOM book WHAT WHO SAID THAT USER FLAYEDCRANK GOT HACKED

So Persylv shares... half a brain cell agenda... send tweet.

"Everything is a big deal" gf x "No thoughts to panic over" bf Take your pick

Phoenix is so terribly down bad for Mickey but he'd shoot me in the ear like my name is donald if i said that aloud

Wonder what Jason Grace is doing at Camp Jupiter rn Is he ready to adopt Sylvie Duvall as his sister

Via this me to u