sweet dreams • leo valdez

13

Delilah awoke to Frank talking. Percy looked like he'd just got up himself.

"The killer whale took us as far as the Columbia River. Then he passed the harness to a couple of twelve-foot sturgeons." Frank was saying, and for a second Delilah thought she was having a regular dream. Not that she had them a lot. There was always too much for her to see. "Anyway, the sturgeons pulled us for a long time. Hazel and I took turns sleeping. Then we hit this river-"

"The Willamette." Hazel informed them.

"Right. After that, the boat kind of took over and navigated us here all by itself. Sleep okay?"

Percy then told them about what he had dreamt about. It seemed his dreams were somewhat of the same type as Delilah's. He first told them about a warship which was on its way to Camp Jupiter, which he suspected might help them.

"The Argo won't get there until after the army gets to Camp." Delilah told them absent-mindedly.

They all turned to her confused. Frank furrowed his eyebrows. "The Argo? Like Jason and the Argonauts?"

"I think it's named after that, but it's not the same one or the same crew. They are allies though. Let's just hope they don't get back before we do." She said, trying not to give too much away.

"I keep forgetting you somehow know everything." Percy looked like he found it funny.

"Let me guess, you can't tell us who they are or why they're coming?" Hazel asked her, already knowing the answer.

Delilah just shrugged. "It's not important as of yet. Once we've completed the quest, then you'll get to meet them."

Percy moved on, telling them about the cyclops and dog he'd seen who apparently were friends. Then he described how he'd seen a Roman camp on a field of ice where the giant, Alcyoneus, was waiting for them.

Delilah couldn't help but feel like he was missing something out, especially given her affinity for dreams. But she trusted that if it was important enough, Percy would tell them.

•

Portland was cold and wet. Having spent her whole life living in California, she wasn't used to it at all. She put on the light rainjacket which she'd brought with her and walked with the others through the streets. After last time, they'd decided that it was a good idea to bring their important supplies with them. Delilah had even offered to put the heavier objects in her bag.

They hadn't found much, everything seeming normal. That was until they heard someone shout, "Ha! Take that, stupid chickens!"

"You think-?" Percy asked the others.

"Most definitely." Delilah said, and started running towards the shout. The others were on her heels. They soon arrived in a parking lot lined with food trucks. She even heard Percy's stomach rumble at the sight of all of the food. In the middle of it all was an old man in a bathrobe. He was waving a weed whacker in the air, chasing harpies in the air as they swiped food off of a picnic table. So this was Phineas. She also recognised the scene as the one she'd seen what felt like an hour ago. The man was clearly the one from her vision last night.

"Harpies, which means-" Hazel said in realisation.

"That's Phineas." Frank confirmed.

The four of them made way through the food trucks to the picnic table in the middle of the carpark. Phineas was a lot uglier up close. His robe was stained with food, he had a few strands of white hair on his otherwise bald head. He was doing fairly well at hitting the starving-looking harpies away from his table, despite his obvious blindness. "Back, dirty chickens!" He was shouting. He managed to hit one of the harpies on the wing, leading it to scream and retreat away. One more harpy, smaller than the rest, nearly escaped with a burrito, until Phineas hit her hard on the back.