"Just write a book" they said. "It'll be easy," they said, "Everyone gets published these days." Yeah, well, it's a little harder when your editors are gods that will turn you into a gecko and use you as a ping pong ball if you don't write them exac...
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THE WAR GOD WAS WAITING FOR US IN THE DINER PARKING LOT.
"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."
I tried to tell if Ares was surprised by that, but I couldn't tell. It all sounded like he was mocking us.
"You knew it was a trap," Percy accused.
Ares just grinned. That was getting really annoying (or maybe that was just his effect again. Ugh – how did anyone hang out with this guy?)
"Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. Especially with this one's –" he gave me an approving look, which made any pride curdle. "– little show. You looked good on TV."
Percy shoved the shield at him. "You're a jerk."
The rest of us caught their breath. This was it. This was when Percy got obliterated.
He wasn't obliterated. Instead, Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the hair. It changed form as it did, dropping as a bulletproof vest. Ares still slung it across his back, though, so I have no clue what the point was in changing it.
"See that truck over there?" Ares pointed to an eighteen-wheel parted across the street. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A. with one stop in Vegas."
When I turned to look at the truck, I almost thought it was a joke. Reverse-printed white on black was the words: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.
I turned back to Ares and raised an eyebrow. Like...Oh, ha, ha. We're a bunch of animals. Now what's your actual plan?
Except he didn't.
"You're kidding," Percy said flatly.
Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free right west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."
He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handle bars and tossed it to Percy. I leaned over as Percy opened it to see what was inside. There were fresh, non-Waterland clothes, along with twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuf Oreos.
I preemptively elbowed Percy in the side when he opened his mouth. What? I know him. He wasn't about to be bribed with Double Stuf Oreos.
"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted. "Thanks a lot."
Percy gritted his teeth. Still, he stayed silent and threw the book bag over his shoulder. I have to admit, I was relieved that I wasn't the only one who was carrying around our supplies anymore. That was a lot of responsibility.
I was desperate to get away from Ares. Sure, he was helping us, but it was the same way that Viola Summerfield might invite me into her group project just so I was easier to make fun of. That feeling only got stronger when I turned to the dinner. The waitress that had served us was watching out the window, along with someone (one of the cooks?) she had dragged out of the kitchen. He was holding up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us.
