NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

sixty six: the ghosty ghosts.

IF NOT FOR the horses, Brooklyn would've died. Pathetically.

Jason and Percy charged each other, but Tempest and Blackjack balked long enough for Brooklyn to roll out of the way.

She got up, Piper right beside her, and looked back, dazed and horrified, as the boys crossed swords, gold against bronze. Sparks flew. Their blades blurred — strike and parry — and the pavement trembled. The first exchange took only a second, but Brooklyn couldn't believe the speed of their sword fighting. The horses pulled away from each other — Tempest thundering in protest, Blackjack flapping his wings.

"Stop it!" Piper yelled, doing her mystical voice thing.

For a moment, Jason heeded her voice. His golden eyes turned toward her, and Percy charged, slamming his blade into Jason. Thank the gods, Percy turned his sword — maybe on purpose, maybe accidentally — so the flat of it hit Jason's chest; but the impact was still enough to knock him off his mount.

Blackjack cantered away as Tempest reared in confusion. The spirit horse charged into the sunflowers and dissipated into vapor.

Percy struggled to turn his pegasus around.

"Percy!" Piper yelled. "Jason's your friend. Drop your weapon!"

Percy's sword arm dipped. Piper might have been able to bring him under control, but unfortunately Jason got to his feet.

Jason roared. A bolt of lightning arced out of the clear blue sky. It ricocheted off his gladius and blasted Percy off his horse.

Blackjack whinnied and fled into the wheat fields. Jason charged at Percy, who was now on his back, his clothes smoking from the lightning blast.

"Hey, stop it!" Brooklyn outstretched her hands, electricity coursing out from her and forming into a barrier.

Naturally, because life hated her, Jason went straight through it, absorbing her electricity, still gunning for Percy.

"No!" Piper screamed. "Jason, stop!"

He froze, his sword six inches from Percy's face.

Jason turned, the gold light in his eyes flickering uncertainly. "I cannot stop. One must die."

Something about that voice . . . it wasn't Gaea. It wasn't Jason. Whoever it was spoke haltingly, as if English was its second language.

"Who are you?" Piper demanded.

Jason's mouth twisted in a gruesome smile. "We are the eidolons. We will live again."

"Eidolons . . . ?" Piper looked over at Brooklyn, confused, who simply shrugged. "You're — you're some sort of ghost?"

"He must die." Jason turned his attention back to Percy, but Percy had recovered more than any of them realized. He swept out his leg and knocked Jason off his feet.

Jason's head hit the asphalt with a nauseating conk.

Percy rose.

"Stop it!" Brooklyn yelped.

Percy raised Riptide over Jason's chest.

Brooklyn was about to just recklessly charge in when Piper angrily commanded, "Eidolon, stop."

Percy froze.

"Face me," Piper ordered.

Brooklyn's boyfriend turned. His eyes were gold instead of green, his face pale and cruel, not at all like Percy's. Her chest hurt seeing him like that.

"You have not chosen," he said. "So this one will die."

"You're a spirit from the Underworld," Piper guessed. "You're possessing Percy Jackson. Is that it?"