love and war | p.j & a.c¹

1.08

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

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

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Pressure. Pistons need fixing."

Before he could explain, the cosmic toilet flushed with a mighty roaaar! The ship lurched forward and I was thrown to the deck. We were in the whirlpool.

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

Dead Confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller grinded into reverse, trying to slow the ship, but we 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."

"You?" Clarisse looked at him incredulously.

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

"Go!" yelled Clarisse.

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

He patted my hand. "Only way, Di." His expression was determined—confident, even. I'd never seen him look like this before. "I will fix it. Be right back."

I wanted to follow him, stop him, but I couldn't. As I watched him follow the smoldering sailor down the hatch, I had a terrible feeling. I wanted to run after him, but the ship lurched again—and then I saw Charybdis.

She appeared only a few hundred yards away, through a swirl of mist and smoke and water.

The first thing I noticed was the reef—a black crag of coral with a fig tree clinging to the top. It seemed oddly peaceful, calm in the middle of a storm.

All around it, water curved into a funnel, like light around a black hole. Then I 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, I would know; I had braces for three years. She was nothing but a huge black maw with bad teeth alignment and a serious overbite, and she'd done nothing for centuries but eat without brushing after meals. As I watched, the entire sea around her was sucked into the void—sharks, schools of fish, a giant squid. And I 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.

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 us, snapping the Ares flag off its pole.

"Again!" Clarisse ordered. The gunners reloaded, but I knew it was hopeless. We would have to hot Charybdis at least a hundred times to do any real damage, and we certainly didn't have that long.

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

I let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in, the ghost of a smile on my lips, "He did it."

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

"We'll die!" Percy countered. "We have to move away."