𝔗𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔶 - 𝔉𝔢𝔪𝔒ℭ𝔵𝔏𝔢𝔬 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔷

11. There's A God On My Jump List.

"You are in so  much trouble," Clarisse said.

We'd just finished a ship tour, through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors. We'd seen the coal bunker, the boilers and engine, which huffed and groaned like it would explode any minute. We'd seen the pilot house and the powder magazine and gunnery deck (Clarisse's favorite) with two Dahlgren smoothbore cannons on the port and starboard sides and a Brooke nine-inched rifled gun fore and aft—all specially refitted to fire celestial bronze cannon balls.

Everywhere we went, dead Confederate sailors stared at us, their ghostly bearded faces shimmering over their skulls. They approved of Annabeth because she told them she was from Virginia. They were interested in me because of my past lives, being military leaders or whatever, and because mine and Percy's last name was Jackson—like the Southern general—he ruined it by telling them we were from New York. They all hissed at him but continued to make conversation with me.

There was one sailor who didn't seem like he was from that time, he wore French armor, something from like 1429. He didn't have a face, but he seemed to constantly stare at me wherever I went, and if I passed him, he would bow. 

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted I hold his hand. I was fine with it, but I was scared he would forget and crush my hand.

Finally, we were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham  captain's quarters were about the size of a walk-in closet, but still much bigger than any other room on board. The table was set with white linen and china. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and the love of my life, Dr. Peppers, were served by skeletal crewmen. I didn't want to eat anything served by ghosts, but my stomach kept insisting.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse told us smugly, after hugging me and catching me up with all the latest camp gossip. "Mr. D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV. Other than you, Kie, he said he's not supposed to, something about chaos being ensued."

"Did they  give you the ship?" I asked, shoving a bunch of chips into my mouth.

"'Course not. My father did."

Her voice had caught a little, and something tingled at the back of my mine.

"Ares?"  Percy asked.

Clarisse sneered at him. "You think your daddy is the only one with sea power? The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That's their curse for behind defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and ere it is. These guys will do anything I tell them, well, most. There's this one ghost, I think he—"

I sat up quick. "Isn't from the time the others are? Is wearing different armor?"

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah. . .how—how did you?"

"I saw him too."

"Well. . .He doesn't really do anything, he is just kinda there. Anyways, won't you, Captain?"

The captain stood behind Clarisse looking stiff and angry. His glowing green eyes ran up and down my body, with a hungry stare. "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma'am, peace at last, we'll do anything. Destroy anyone."

Clarisse smiled. "Destroy anyone. I like that."

Tyson gulped.

"Clarisse," Annabeth said, "Luke might be after the Fleece, too. We saw him. He's got the coordinated and he's heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters—"

"Good!I'll blow him out of the water."

"You don't understand," Annabeth said. "We have to combine forces. Let us help you—"