Child of lightning-Percy Jackson x reader-Book one

I guess knocking on wood has no effect

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.

We weren't attacked once, but I still didn't relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe even from below, like something was just waiting for the right opportunity.

I tried to keep a low profile because me, and Percy's names and pictures were splattered over the front pages of practically every East Coast newspapers. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as Percy and I got off the Greyhound bus. I had a wild look in my eyes. My sword was a metallic blur in my hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick.

The picture's caption read:

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, and eleven-year old Joey Grace wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of Sally Jackson, two weeks ago. It is shown here the two children fleeing from the bus where they accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after They fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the kids may be traveling with two other teenage accomplices. Percy's stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to their capture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told us. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure.

The rest of the day I spent alternately pacing the length of the train (because I had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows.

Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I looked around the passenger car, but nobody else besides Percy seemed to have noticed. The adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines.

Another time, toward evening, I saw something huge moving through the woods. I could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and this thing was the size of a tractor. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and was gone.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. I felt slightly bad because if I weren't there they would have at least been able to get a few cities closer. It's not like I had been vary much help on this quest. If anything I'd been making it worse with my 'scent', or whatever. Anyways, we couldn't get beds in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff and I overall felt a general feeling of uncomfortableness. Me and Annabeth switched seats after Percy told me about his concerns about drooling on Annabeth in his sleep. I told him I didn't really mind.

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking me up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Sense Percy was out like a light, Annabeth and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," Annabeth asked me, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep earlier, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

I was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time I'd dreamed about the evil voice from the pit. But it bothered me so much I finally just told her.

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

"He offered Percy's mother in trade. Who else could do that?"

"I guess... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"