DAYLIGHT ↬ leo valdez x reader

23. back and forth from new york

"Anyways. You want to do the honors of ringing the dinner bell?"
"Oh it would be my pleasure." I grinned, walking back down to the main deck.
"Race ya." Leo shoved me aside before I got to the stairs, jogging to the mess hall. Despite him being ahead I rolled my eyes and followed in suit reluctantly. But, even though I felt a little frustrated, it was like getting mad at a puppy dog. He was too cute to scold. Wait, what did I just say..?

The ship's horn practically blasted me up to the top deck. It hadn't been Leo, though that was my first thought. He was on the floor of our room, having blasted out of the bed in fright of the booms. We ran up to the deck and seemed to be the first ones up there. Eventually everyone gathered above and I noticed everyone seemed to be having some kind of wardrobe malfunction. Frank's Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel's hair was all blown to one side, as though she'd walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking. I made sure to keep my distance when the flames first sparked to life.

About a hundred yards to port, a massive cruise ship glided past. Tourists waved at us from fifteen or sixteen rows of balconies. Some smiled and took pictures. None of them looked surprised to see an Ancient Greek trireme. Maybe the Mist made it look like a fishing boat, or perhaps the cruisers thought the Argo II was a tourist attraction. The cruise ship blew its horn again, and the Argo II had a shaking fit.

Coach Hedge plugged his ears. "Do they have to be so loud?"
"They're just saying hi," Frank speculated. "WHAT?" Hedge yelled back. The ship edged past them, heading out to sea. The tourists kept waving. If they found it strange that the Argo II was populated by half-asleep kids in armor and pajamas and a man with goat legs, they didn't let on.
"I feel so cool." Leo murmured to me, raising his smoking hand. I waved to them as they began to drift away.
"Bye!" I called, despite the low chance that anyone heard me.
"Can I man the ballistae?" Hedge asked.
"No," Leo said through a forced smile. Hazel rubbed her eyes and looked across the glittering green water.
"Where are—oh...Wow." We followed her gaze and I heard Piper gasp. Without the cruise ship blocking their view, there was a mountain jutting from the sea less than half a mile to the north. On one side, the limestone cliffs were almost completely sheer, dropping into the sea over a thousand feet below. On the other side, the mountain sloped in tiers, covered in green forest.

"The Rock of Gibraltar," Annabeth said in awe. "At the tip of Spain. And over there—" She pointed south, to a more distant stretch of red and ochre hills. "That must be Africa. We're at the mouth of the Mediterranean."
"What now?" Piper asked. "Do we just sail in?"
"Why not?" Leo said. "It's a big shipping channel. Boats go in and out all the time."
"Not every boat is filled with monster bait." I added. Leo shrugged in agreement. Annabeth gazed at the Rock of Gibraltar. I knew that look from years of seeing it at camp. She was anticipating trouble.

"In the old days," Annabeth said, "they called this area the pillars of Hercules. The Rock was supposed to be one pillar. The other was one of the African mountains. Nobody is sure which one."
"Hercules, huh?" Percy frowned. "That guy was like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece. Everywhere you turn—there he is."
A thunderous boom shook the Argo II.
"So...these Pillars of Hercules. Are they dangerous?" Piper swallowed.
Annabeth stayed focused on the white cliffs, as if waiting for the Mark of Athena to blaze to life. "For Greeks, the pillars marked the end of the known world. The Romans said the pillars were inscribed with a Latin warning—"
"Non plus ultra," Percy said.
Annabeth looked stunned. "Yeah. Nothing Further Beyond. How did you know?"
Percy pointed. "Because I'm looking at it."

Directly ahead of us, in the middle of the straits, an island had shimmered into existence. At least, I didn't recall seeing it beforehand. It was a small hilly mass of land, covered in forests and ringed with white beaches. Not very impressive compared to Gibraltar, but in front of the island, jutting from waves about a hundred yards offshore, were two white Grecian columns as tall as the Argo's masts. Between the columns, huge silver words glittered underwater— maybe an illusion, or maybe inlaid in the sand: NON PLUS ULTRA.
"Guys, do I turn around?" Leo asked nervously. "Or..."
No one answered. As the ship approached the columns, I saw a dark haired man in purple robes, his arms crossed, staring intently at their ship as if he were expecting them.
Frank inhaled sharply. "Could that be—?"
"Hercules," Jason said. "The most powerful demigod of all time."