CHAPTER EIGHT

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Sylvie woke up feeling weak(er than usual), disoriented, sore, and completely out of it. She shifted with a quiet grunt first, letting Annabeth and Percy know she was awake. When she finally mustered up enough strength to open her eyes, Sylvie registered her surroundings.

She was now in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform fabric. Annabeth was manning the pitiful excuse for a ship, and Percy had just sat down next to her. Sylvie—an intelligent being, really—stared at him for a minute. Then Annabeth suddenly piped in with a greeting, and Sylvie snapped out of it, pushing herself to sit up.

"We've been sailing for hours," Percy told her.

Sylvie's eyebrows furrowed. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Percy cracked a smile. He teased, "Cowgirls need their beauty sleep, Applejack. Didn't you know?"

"I'm not—!" Sylvie protested, before she looked at the smirk Percy sent her, and knew he was being annoying on purpose, "answering to that..."

He pointed at her. "You just did."

Sylvie shook her head. She turned away from Percy, because she needed to hide her beaming grin and pink cheeks from him. The whole situation was terribly embarrassing, but Sylvie physically couldn't get a grip. This was Percy Jackson sharing banter with her. If you told Sylvie from last year this would be happening, she probably would've strangled herself with vines. On accident.

"Where's Tyson?" she asked, to change the subject.

Percy sucked in a sharp breath, and Sylvie's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She knew she shouldn't have asked. He couldn't even answer Sylvie, he was so torn up.

For the first time, Sylvie longed to hear the word boots once again.

"He may have survived," Annabeth said suddenly, trying to cheer both Sylvie and Percy up. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

Sylvie nodded, but her mouth felt dry. He'd given his life for them—for Sylvie, who he'd only known for a couple of days. It made her so incredibly guilty, because Sylvie didn't know if she would have been able to do the same. Her fear encircled her in a trap of constant chains—more than half of the time, Sylvie couldn't move or breathe. Drowning in the panic was a constant threat to her, and Sylvie hated herself for it, but a lot of the times she did sink. She never had something or someone that saved her from doing so.

"We'll find him," Sylvie opted on saying instead. She couldn't dare let herself think about another option. Percy looked pained at the statement, but she stubbornly insisted, "We will."

"Okay," he whispered right back.

Waves lapped at the boat. Percy and Annabeth showed her some things they'd salvaged from the wreckage—Hermes's thermos (now empty), Hermes's bottle of multivitamins, a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts, and a bottle of Dr Pepper.

Now that they were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too—as if a thunderstorm were coming. Or something even more dangerous. Sylvie didn't care if Percy knew exactly where they were going, she felt absolutely lost.

No matter which way they turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into her eyes. They took turns sipping from Dr Pepper, shading themselves with the sail as best as they could. Unfortunately, Sylvie didn't really like Dr Pepper, but it was her only option. She much more preferred fruit juices, or smoothies, or water.

Then they talked about Percy's latest dream of Grover.

Basically—and apparently both of her quest-mates had known this part for a while except for her—since Grover was trapped on Polyphemus's island, he was pretending to be a female Cyclops in a wedding dress getting ready to marry him. Polyphemus was an idiot, who believed Grover, and in the most recent dream told Grover that he used the Golden Fleece to lure satyrs in and eat them.

Grover was trying to stall for Percy, Annabeth, and Sylvie and give them enough time to come rescue him. He was pretending to take a really long time on making a wedding train, but in this dream, Polyphemus had gotten so impatient that he demanded Grover finish the wedding train by tomorrow. Whether that threat was genuine or not, they didn't know.

By Annabeth's estimate, they had less than twenty-four hours to find Grover, assuming Percy's dream was accurate, and assuming the Cyclops Polyphemus didn't change his mind and try to marry Grover earlier.

The subject of Cyclopes reminded them too much of Tyson, so they had to change it.

"Annabeth, what's Chiron's prophecy?" Percy asked suddenly.

Sylvie leaned forward. "Yeah, I, too, would like to know the prophecy."

Annabeth pursed her lips. "I shouldn't—"

"I know Chiron promised the gods he wouldn't tell me," Percy interrupted. "But you didn't promise, did you?"

"Knowledge isn't always good for you."

Sylvie couldn't agree. She felt like she didn't know anything. A little bit of knowledge could probably work wonders for her, honestly.

"Isn't your mom the wisdom goddess?" Sylvie asked.

"Yes," Annabeth groaned, "but every time heroes learn the future, they try to change it. It never works."

"The gods are worried about something I'll do when I get older," Percy guessed. "Something when I turn sixteen."

Annabeth twisted her Yankees cap in her hands. "Percy, I don't know about the full prophecy, but it warns about a half-blood child of the Big Three—the next one who lives to the age of sixteen. That's the real reason Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore a pact after World War II not to have any more kids. The next child of the Big Three who reaches sixteen will be a dangerous weapon."

"Why?"

"Because that hero will decide the fate of Olympus. He or she will make two decisions that either save the Age of the Gods, or destroy it."

Sylvie suddenly felt ill for Percy. That was a horrible weight to carry, and Percy was only so young. It didn't feel fair, and Sylvie wasn't even the one that the prophecy could apply to.

"That's why Kronos didn't kill me last summer," Percy realized in a strangled voice.

Annabeth nodded. "You could be very useful to him. If he can get you on his side, the gods will be in serious trouble."

"But if it's me in the prophecy—"

"We'll only know that if you survive three more years. That can be a long time for a half-blood. When Chiron first learned about Thalia, he assumed she was the one in the prophecy. That's why he was so desperate to get her safely to camp. Then she went down fighting and got turned into a pine tree and none of us knew what to think. Until you came along."

"This kid in the prophecy... they couldn't be, like, a Cyclops?" Percy asked. "The Big Three have lots of monster children."

Annabeth shook her head. "The Oracle said 'half-blood.' That always means half-human, half-god. There's really nobody alive who it could be, except you."

"Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me."

"You're right."

"Well, isn't that lovely?" Sylvie grimaced to herself. Her right hand fidgeted uncomfortably. She really wished they were on a different topic right now. The thought of Percy dying, destroying Olympus, any of it—it made Sylvie feel... Well, she couldn't name the emotion coursing through her veins, but she knew for certain it wasn't joy.

Annabeth sighed. "Look, I don't know. I guess some of the gods would like to kill Percy, but they're probably afraid of offending Poseidon. Other gods... maybe they're still watching you, Percy—trying to decide what hero you're going to be. You could be a weapon for their survival, after all. The real question is... what will you do in three years? What decisions will you make?"

"Did the prophecy give any hints?" Percy asked.

Annabeth hesitated.

Maybe she would've told them more, but just then a seagull swooped down out of nowhere and landed on their makeshift mast. The bird dropped a small cluster of leaves in Sylvie's lap, and she let out a startled, "Uhhh...?"

"Land," Annabeth said suddenly. "There's land nearby!"

Sylvie set the leaves aside and looked. Sure enough, there was a line of blue and brown in the distance. Another minute and Sylvie could make out an island with a small mountain in the center, a dazzling white collection of buildings, a beach dotted with palm trees, and a harbor filled with a strange assortment of boats.

The current was pulling their rowboat toward what looked like a tropical paradise.

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"Welcome!" said the lady with the clipboard.

She looked like a flight attendant—blue business suit, perfect makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She shook their hands as they stepped onto the dock. With the dazzling smile she gave them, you would've thought they'd just gotten off the Princess Andromeda rather than a banged-up rowboat.

Then again, their rowboat wasn't the weirdest ship in the port. Along with a bunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugout canoes, and an old-fashioned three-masted sailing ship. There was a helipad with a "Channel Five Fort Lauderdale" helicopter on it, and a short runway with a Learjet and a propeller plane that looked like a World War II fighter. Maybe they were replicas for tourists to look at or something.

"Is this your first time with us?" the clipboard lady inquired.

Sylvie, Percy, and Annabeth exchanged looks. Sylvie said, "Umm..."

"First—time—at—spa," the lady said as she wrote on her clipboard. "Let's see..." She looked them up and down critically. "Mmm. Herbal wraps to start for the young ladies. And of course, a complete makeover for the young gentleman."

"A what?" Percy asked, at the same time Sylvie questioned, "What's that?"

The lady was too busy jotting down notes to answer.

"Right!" she said with a breezy smile. "Well, I'm sure C.C. will want to speak with you personally before the luau. Come, please."

Now here's the thing. Basically everything put Sylvie on edge—whether it be eight-headed Hydras or pretty ladies with clipboards. She couldn't stop herself from being distrustful of the resort they found themselves at. However, they'd been floating in a rowboat for most of the day. Sylvie was hot, tired, and hungry, and when this lady mentioned a luau, her stomach sat up on its hind legs and begged like a dog.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Annabeth muttered.

Of course it could, but Sylvie trusted Annabeth's judgment, so she followed the lady anyway. Sylvie kept her right thumb grazing the edge of her fingerless glove and focused on the feeling of Cereal—which she'd now put in the back pocket of her shorts—but the farther they wandered into the resort, the more Sylvie forgot about them.

The place was amazing. There was white marble and blue water everywhere Sylvie looked. Terraces climbed up the side of the mountain, with swimming pools on every level, connected by waterslides and waterfalls and underwater tubes you could swim through. Fountains sprayed water into the air, forming impossible shapes, like flying eagles and galloping horses.

They passed all kinds of tame animals. A sea turtle napped in a stack of beach towels (Sylvie cooed in awe and tried petting it). A leopard stretched out asleep on the diving board (Sylvie cooed in awe and tried petting it). The resort guests—only young women, as far as Sylvie could see—lounged in deck chairs, drinking fruit smoothies or reading magazines while herbal gunk dried on their faces and manicurists in white uniforms did their nails.

As they headed up a staircase toward what looked like the main building, Sylvie heard a woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like a lullaby. Her words were in some language other than Ancient Greek, but just as old—Minoan, maybe, or something like that. Sylvie could understand what she sang about—moonlight in the olive groves, the colors of the sunrise. And magic. Something about magic. The specifics didn't matter, because her voice was beautiful.

They came into a big room where the whole front wall was windows. The back wall was covered in mirrors, so the room seemed to go on forever. There was a bunch of expensive-looking white furniture, and on a table in one corner was a large wire pet cage. The cage seemed out of place, but Sylvie didn't think about it too much, because just then she saw the lady who'd been singing... and woah.

The woman sat at a loom the size of a big screen TV, her hands weaving colored thread back and forth with amazing skill.

The tapestry shimmered like it was three dimensional—a waterfall scene so real Sylvie could see the water moving and clouds drifting across a fabric sky.

Annabeth caught her breath. "It's beautiful."

The lady turned. She was even prettier than her fabric. Her long dark hair was braided with threads of gold. She had piercing green eyes that had Sylvie thinking she had a thing for dark hair and green eyes. The woman wore a sulky black dress with shapes that seemed to move in the fabric: animal shadows, black upon black, like deer running through a forest at night.

"You appreciate weaving, my dear?" the woman asked.

"Oh, yes, ma'am!" Annabeth said. "My mother is—"

She stopped herself. You couldn't just go around announcing that your mom was Athena, the goddess who invented the loom. Most people would lock you in a rubber room, with rats.

Their hostess just smiled. "You have good taste, my dear. I'm so glad you've come. My name is C.C."

The animals in the corner cage started squealing. They must've been guinea pigs, from the sound of them.

"Uh—You're really pretty," Sylvie blurted.

They introduced themselves to C.C. She ran her analytical stare over each of them—and when she got to Sylvie—it made Sylvie nervous. For some reason, she wanted to impress C.C. Luckily, the woman's eyes didn't have a twinge of disapproval, not like they did when she looked at Percy.

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "You do need my help."

"Ma'am?" Percy asked.

C.C. called to the lady in the business suit. "Hylla, take Annabeth and Sylvie on a tour, will you? Show them what we have available. Their clothing will need to change. And the hair," she looked at Annabeth, "well, there's certainly room for improvement." Then, to Sylvie, "And, oh dear, all those freckles... We will do a full image consultation after I've spoken with this young gentleman."

"But..." Annabeth's voice sounded hurt. "What's wrong with my hair?"

Sylvie's fingertips nervously grazed her cheeks. "What about my freckles?"

She felt sad when C.C. judged her like that—Sylvie had disappointed C.C., and she had to figure out how to do better.

C.C. smiled benevolently. "My dears, you're both lovely. Really! But neither of you are showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!"

Sylvie had heard that one before.

"Wasted?" Annabeth asked.

"Well, surely you're not happy the way you are! My goodness, there's not a single person who is. But don't worry. We can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dears, need to unlock your true selves!"

Sylvie's eyes glowed with longing. Wasted potential. Not happy the way she was. Yeah, Sylvie related to all of that more than she'd like to admit... But, "What about Percy?"

"Oh, definitely," C.C. said, giving him a look. "Percy requires my personal attention. He needs much more work than you."

The guinea pigs squealed like they were hungry.

"Well..." Annabeth said. "I suppose... Sylvie?"

Sylvie's head snapped up at being addressed. It was wild that Annabeth was asking Sylvie's opinion, so Sylvie took a few moments to come to that realization. She dared one last look at Percy.

"Sure..."

And then Sylvie was whisked away from both Percy and Annabeth, heading into the waterfall-laced gardens of the spa.

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Sylvie was first given a tour of the resort before anything happened.

The whole place was so large and beautiful that Sylvie couldn't even tell you how long they were perusing for—She'd even spent around thirty minutes just in the gardens alone. Sylvie couldn't help it: the flowers were fully bloomed and gorgeous, the plants were vibrantly alluring, and there were even some animals inside the confines of the magnificent waterfalls. A butterfly flew onto Sylvie's nose, dragonflies flittered around her in circles, and she got to watch the hummingbirds drinking from sweet orchids.

There were other places Sylvie remembered in her visit—a library, a music room (which would've had Florian collapsing on his feet), an art room, a dance studio, etc. Sylvie usually would've been overwhelmed about all there was to do, but right now she just wanted to stay in every single spot. She probably would've, too, if Hylla didn't force her to leave and bring her to someone else who looked scarily similar.

She looked similar to Hylla, but still quite different. This girl was younger, maybe Sylvie's age. She had piercing black eyes, glossy black hair, and bronzed skin; she was so beautiful, yet imposing, and Sylvie had no complaints to be put through a makeover with her.

Sylvie ended up wearing an elegant and silk, white dress. Around her waist was a golden cord tied with the two ends dangling at her left side. One of the sleeves was hanging delicately off her shoulder while the other situated on properly. On her left bicep (the arm where the sleeve wasn't falling), the girl strapped on Cereal with a golden band and holster.

Her amber hair was washed and combed, the top half of it braided back and golden strands intricately woven in. The young makeover artist then proceeded to do Sylvie's makeup (she didn't really want this part done but she wasn't about to argue with a girl so pretty), concealing the freckles that usually dotted her face so unmethodically.

Then the girl reunited Sylvie with Annabeth—she had gone through the exact same treatment as Sylvie had. Her regular braids had been neatened and upgraded into goddess braids. Here and there were golden clips and golden braids that had Sylvie awestruck, and a golden laurel was placed on the crown of her head. She was wearing a sleeveless silk dress, also white, and also like C.C.'s. Just like Sylvie, Annabeth wore makeup, which was just as foreign of a sight as Sylvie wearing makeup, but she looked good.

Sylvie and Annabeth proceeded to say their goodbyes to Hylla and her younger counterpart as they visited C.C. once more.

"Miss C.C.?" Annabeth called from outside the door of the big room they were originally in. There was an eager tilt to her voice.

From inside, Sylvie heard a series of ruckus and wrangling about. She shared a look with Annabeth, wondering what it was all about. Annabeth shrugged in response, and slowly started opening the door to check it out.

C.C. was brushing something under the loom, turning back around by the time the girls came inside. The guinea pigs were still squeaking madly, and Percy was...

"Where's Percy?" Annabeth looked around the room, then frowned.

C.C. smiled. "He's having one of our treatments, my dear. Not to worry. You look wonderful! And you, Sylvie. What did you think of your tours?"

Annabeth's eyes brightened. "Your library is amazing!"

"And the gardens were beautiful, ma'am!" Sylvie said politely.

"Yes, indeed," C.C. said. "I've been keeping the gardens flourishing for quite some time, extravagant work of mine... And the library—the best knowledge of the past three millennia. Anything you want to study, anything you want to be, my dears."

"An earth scientist?"

"An architect?"

"Pah!" C.C. said. "You, my dears, have the makings of a sorceress. Like me!"

Annabeth took a step back, pulling Sylvie with her by a grip on Sylvie's wrist. "A sorceress?" she questioned.

"Yes, my dear." C.C. held up her hand. A flame appeared in her palm and danced across her fingertips. "My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one. We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men."

"I—I don't understand—"

"And neither do you, daughter of Demeter," C.C. smiled over to where Sylvie had started stiffening nervously. "I meant what I said about all that potential—It doesn't have to go to waste. There is a great power inside of you, Sylvie Duvall."

Sylvie panicked, "Oh, that's not—"

"Stay with me," C.C. told them both. "Study with me. You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!"

"But—"

"You are too intelligent, my dears," C.C. said. "You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes. How many great female half-blood heroes can you name?"

"Atalanta," Annabeth started listing, "Amelia Earhart—"

"Bah! Men get all the glory." C.C. closed her fist and extinguished the magic flame. "The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now they were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all."

Annabeth gasped. "You...C.C....Circe!"

"Yes, my dear."

"Wait—what?" Sylvie questioned wildly.

She jolted backward like hell, no! and Annabeth backed up. Circe laughed. "You need not worry. I mean neither of you any harm."

"What have you done to Percy?" asked Annabeth.

Annabeth scanned the room, and Sylvie followed her gaze when Annabeth's eyes suddenly widened in incredulity. Their eyes were on the cage of guinea pigs in the corner—there was one scratching at the bars, the rest crowding around it. Sylvie's eyes magnified, too.

"He's a guinea pig?!" Sylvie freaked out.

"Forget him," Circe said. "Join me and learn the ways of sorcery."

"He's a guinea pig!" she argued. 

"Your friend will be well cared for. He'll be shipped to a wonderful new home on the mainland. The kindergarteners will adore him. Meanwhile, you two will be wise and powerful. You will have all you ever wanted."

Sylvie honestly couldn't belive what she was hearing—this entire situation was way too weird. Percy Jackson was a guinea pig, Sylvie was talking to Circe, and the sorceress was basically offering Sylvie eternal happiness. At the expense of aforementioned guinea pig guy getting turned into a class pet.

Basically, Sylvie had no clue how to go about this. She hoped to all the gods above Annabeth knew what to do. Athena cabin always had a plan.

"Let us think about it," Annabeth murmured, and Sylvie could've cheered with relief. "Just... give us a minute alone.

Sylvie nodded to play along. "Right. We need to... say good-bye."

"Of course, my dears," Circe cooed. "One minute. Oh... and so you two have absolute privacy..." She waved her hand and iron bars slammed down over the windows. She swept out of the room and Sylvie heard the locks on the door click shut behind her.

Annabeth instantly ordered, "All right, grab Percy."

Sylvie didn't bother responding. She rushed over to the cage full of guinea pigs, as Annabeth scanned the room for Percy's belongings.

"Which one is you, Fishstick?"

It was no use, and it was a stupid question. Sylvie didn't know why she expected one of the guinea pigs to start jumping repeatedly like Me! Me! while the rest of them pointed their little guinea pig fingers towards Percy. They didn't, of course. They all just started squealing in unison so that Sylvie couldn't tell one rodent from another.

"Annabeth, I have really bad news for you!" Sylvie called out.

She whipped her head to the other side of the room worriedly, where she saw Annabeth rummaging through the pockets of Percy's jeans. For a moment, Sylvie was very confused—Annabeth already had her knife and Sylvie had her daggers. The use of Percy's sword would be pretty redundant right now.

Then Annabeth pulled out the bottle of Hermes's multivitamins, and Sylvie was even more confused. She sped back over to Annabeth's side, feeling dramatically hopeless.

"So, uh, what are we doing here?" Sylvie asked, meaning that we was Annabeth and here was wasting their time by taking supplements.

"Just—" Annabeth handed her a strawberry chewable, holding a lemon one for herself, "eat it. Now."

Annabeth and Sylvie popped the multivitamins in their mouths just as the door flew open and Circe came back in, flanked by two of her business-suited attendants.

"Well," Circe sighed, "how fast a minute passes. What is your answer, my dears?"

"This," Annabeth said, and she drew her bronze knife.

Oh, crap, we're doing this shit now, Sylvie thought as she whipped out Halcyon and Cereal, a few beats behind. She had to back Annabeth up somehow.

The sorceress stepped back, but her surprise quickly passed. She sneered. "Really, little girls? Some knives against my magic? Is that wise?"

"They're daggers," Sylvie corrected with a disgruntled look.

Circe looked back at her attendants, who smiled. They raised their hands as if preparing to cast a spell.

"What will your makeovers be?" Circe mused. "Something small ill-tempered for you, dear Annabeth. A shrew would do nicely, and Sylvie would surely make an excellent gopher!"

Blue fire coiled from her fingers curling like serpents around Sylvie and Annabeth. Sylvie surely thought this was the end for her—she was ready to accept her life as a rodent—but like usual, Sylvie was proven wrong.

Absolutely nothing happened. To either of them. It finally hit Sylvie that Annabeth had made her ingest the multivitamins for this particular reason. When the blue fire dissipated, all that was left standing had been an angry Annabeth and an awestruck Sylvie.

Annabeth leaped forward and stuck the point of her knife against Circe's neck. "How about turning me into a panther instead? One that has her claws at your throat!"

Circe's attendants stepped forward—whether it was to help their sorceress or hurt Annabeth, Sylvie didn't know. Either way, Sylvie stepped forward, too. She pointed a dagger at either woman, making sure

"Uh-uh-uh," Sylvie tilted her head, a threat in its own. 

They didn't have to know yet that Sylvie was the most unassuming demigod alive. She could pretend if she wanted to—for the sake of protecting her quest-mates, that was.

"How!" Circe yelped, wild eyes still trained on Annabeth.

Annabeth held up the bottle of vitamins for the sorceress to see.

Circe howled in frustration. "Curse Hermes and his multivitamins! Those are such a fad! They do nothing for you!"

"I'm pretty sure they just saved our lives," Sylvie quipped. "Now turn Percy back already, would you? For your own good. Annabeth here is crazy, y'know."

Annabeth pressed her knife closer to Circe's neck in response.

"I can't!"

"Then you asked for it," Annabeth growled.

Circe's attendants tried stepping forward again, but Sylvie was whipping her xiphe back up. At this point, her look was more annoyed than anything. She just wanted to get Percy, turn him back, and go. Was that too much to ask for? Did every second of this quest have to be a threat to her livelihood?

"Get back," Sylvie glared. "I will use these."

She wouldn't, but they didn't have to know that.

While Sylvie held the attendants back, Annabeth dragged Circe over to the guinea pig cage, knocked the top off, and poured the rest of the vitamins inside.

"No!" Circe screamed.

The guinea pigs scurried for the supplements, and then suddenly, BANG! The cage exploded.

Percy, along with six other guys, were human again and sitting on the floor (somehow back in their regular clothes, thank the gods). The men with Percy all looked disoriented, blinking and shaking wood shaving out of their hair.

"No!" Circe screamed. "You don't understand! Those are the worst!"

One of the men stood up—a huge guy with a long tangled pitch-black beard and teeth the same color. He worse mismatched clothes of wool, leather, knee-length boots, and a floppy felt hat. The other men were dressed more simply—in breeches and stained white shirts. All of them were barefoot.

"Argggh!" bellowed the big man. "What's the witch done t'me!"

"No!" Circe bellowed.

Sylvie gasped, surprised with herself. "Wait, I totally recognize you! Blackbeard, son of Ares?"

(If you were curious as to how Sylvie actually knew something for once—you could imagine how much Phoenix Harden refused to shut up about how his half-sibling was Blackbeard.)

"Aye, lass," Blackbeard growled. "And there's the sorceress that captured us, lads. Run her through, and then I mean to find me a big bowl of celery! Arggggh!"

Circe screamed. She and her attendants ran from the room, chased by the pirates.

Annabeth sheathed her knife, and Sylvie put her daggers away. Both girls turned to look at Percy, one glaring and the other trying not to laugh. Try to guess who was who.

"Thank you, guys. Really," Percy's voice wavered. "I'm so sorry..."

Sylvie scoffed, humored. "Well, I didn't do anything. This was all Annabeth."

"Yeah," Annabeth shrugged lightly. "I'm crazy, remember?"

The two girls laughed, and Percy seemed like he wanted to too, but there was still a twinge of guilt in his expression. Sylvie supposed she would feel the same way if she so idiotically got turned into a rodent, but for some reason she didn't care at all when Percy did it. If anything, she thought it was hilarious.

"You made a good guinea pig," Sylvie grinned, trying to cheer him up. "Although, I like you better this way."

For some reason, admitting this made Sylvie's face go hot right away; she was very glad that there was already (makeup) blush over her cheeks.

"Scrawny and human. Just the way women like 'em," Percy joked. It was entirely unserious—a result of Sylvie comforting his guilt, Sylvie knew—but Percy was totally unaware of the things that did to Sylvie's heart. Admiration and panic were a horrible combination. "You, uh, look..."

But how Sylvie looked, she would never know. Either Percy didn't finish his sentence or Sylvie blacked out as he did so.

Annabeth was hiding an entertained smirk by yanking her best friend into a hug. Pulling away, she added, "I'm glad you're not a guinea pig, Seaweed Brain."

"Me, too," Percy said, swallowing gratefully.

"Now come on," she said to them both. "We have to get away while Circe's distracted."

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BAILEY YAPS...

Anyways some Sylvie being bi as hell for the timeline

My soulmate via gave me the strength to write this chapter because in her wise words (yes i do have to bring her up every five seconds its part of my daily routine) I hate SOM and it's my biggest rival BUT I'm trying to speed through it just for you lovely people because the other acts are gonna be sm more Hype!

Guys environmental management is Literally going to be my major in college. Also it's an agriculture major. Like agriculture. Like Demeter. Like farms. Like was Sylvie made for this

ALSO

Imagine Percy x Sylvie — Marine biologist x Earth scientist Isn't that just the darndest thing

Sylvie's ass is notttt beating the gopher allegations omg

Just a reminder that PERCY DOESNT KNOW HOW MUCH SYLVIE LIKES HIM!!! HE DOESNT KNOW THAT ONE DAY SHE'S GOING TO BE THE LOVE OF HIS ENTIRE LIFE!!!! THEYRE LITERALLY BABIES RN!!!!

Lalalaa and you never knew How much I really liked youuu Cause I never even told youuu But I meant toooo

Sylvie is so I Look in People's Windows coded sent tweet