***
"You are in so much trouble," Clarisse said.
"Thanks for letting us know. I'll put it on my "I care" list when I care." I retort, not in the mood for Clarrise. Not anything specific about her. Just her in general.
We'd just finished a ship tour we didn't want, 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 pilothouse 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-inch 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 Percy, too, because his name was Jackson- like the Southern general -but then he ruined it by telling them that he and I were from New York. They all hissed and muttered curses about Yankees.
Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand, which she didn't look too thrilled about.
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 Dr Peppers were served by skeletal crewmen. I didn't want to eat anything served by ghosts, but my hunger overruled my fear.
"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse told us smugly. "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."
"Did they give you this ship?" I asked.
"'Course not. My father did."
"Ares?" Percy asked, surprised.
Clarisse sneered. "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 being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them. Won't you, Captain?"
The captain stood behind her looking stiff and angry. His glowing green eyes fixed me 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 coordinates 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-"
"No!" Clarisse pounded the table. "This is my quest, smart girl! Finally I get to be the hero, and you four will not steal my chance."
"Where are your cabin mates?" Perct asked. "You were allowed to take two friends with you, weren't you?"
"They didn't...I let them stay behind. To protect the camp."
"You mean even the people in your own cabin wouldn't help you?"
"Shut up, Prissy! I don't need them! Or you!"
"Clarisse," I said, "Tantalus is using you. He doesn't care about the camp. He'd love to see it destroyed. He's setting you up to fail."
"No! I don't care what the Oracle-" She stopped herself.
"What?" I said. "What did the Oracle tell you?"
"Nothing." Clarisse's ears turned pink. "All you need to know is that I'm finishing this quest and you're not helping. On the other hand, I can't let you go..."
"So we're prisoners?" Annabeth asked.
"Guests. For now." Clarisse propped her feet up on the white linen tablecloth and opened another Dr Pepper. "Captain, take them below. Assign them hammocks on the berth deck. If they don't mind their manners, show them how we deal with enemy spies."
***
I open my eyes, finding myself walking up familiar stairs, and finding Shadow freezes right in front of me.
I step next to her, my hand going to my wrist for Nightmare but finding it gone. Shadow hisses quietly, and where I am clicks in my mind. I turn to the living room, slapping my hands over my mouth.
Once again I see Obadiah leaning over my father's body, holding a black and red device to dad's ear. A familiar horror settles into my chest, heavy and hard, as I see the blood trickle out of his ear. The bright red blood contrasts against my father's abnormally pale skin. He is sitting upright on the couch, perfectly still. His wide brown eyes look straight ahead, bloodshot. It's hard to see him from here, but I've lived through it once.
"Easy, easy," Obadiah tells him. "Breathe." He lays my father back, and I try to stay still. "You remember this one, right? It's a shame the government didn't approve it. There's so many applications for causing short-term paralysis."
He walks around the couch to stand in front of my father and I tense up. Obadiah grabs my father's chin and turns his face toward him.
"Ah, Tony." He takes out a pair of earbuds as he continues. "When I ordered the hit on you, I was worried that I was killing the golden goose." He opens something. I can't tell from where I am hiding. He steps in front of my dad, back turned to me.
I go to take my phone from my back pocket, but it's missing.
In the reflection of the window, I find Pitch holding it up.
"But, you see, it was just," Obadiah pauses and I hear my father gasp, drawing my attention. "Fate that you survived that. You had one last, golden egg to give. Do you really think that just because you had an idea, it belongs to you? You're as naive as Lillian. She's bright, of course -takes after her father- but she doesn't have your experience. Still so young and weak. So naive and shapeable, but I will have to kill her too. She's never trusted me. Other methods won't work on her."
Obadiah continues. "Your father, he helped give us the atomic bomb. Now, what kind of world would it be today if he were as selfish as you?"
I hear a yank and my father gasp again. The familiar blue glow of the arc reactor illuminates Obadiah's hand. As quiet as I can, I go back downstairs and enter the lab. On the workbench I found a large wrench.
With a smirk I grab it and head back upstairs.
"This is your legacy," Obadiah says. "A new generation of weapons with this at its heart. Weapons that will help steer the world back on course, put the power of balance in our hands. The right hands." He moves it from my father's view, putting the arc reactor into the case. "I wish you could see my prototype. It's not as...well, not as conservitive as yours. Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would have preferred that she lived."
"Hey!" I shout, walking the rest of the way up the stairs. "You don't get to do this."
When he answers his voice seems to be layered, and I'm hearing him and Pitch in unison. "And who are you to stop me?"
"A daughter of Hecate, and someone you've made angry."
I rush at him, swinging the wrench as if it's my sword and hitting his arm.
As it hit my vision went black.
***
I woke to alarm bells ringing throughout the ship.
The captain's gravelly voice: "All hands on deck! Find Lady Clarisse! Where is that girl?" Immediately I bolted out of the hammock, following Annabeth and Tyson up to the spar deck. Right before we got up there, I realized Percy was nowhere to be found.
"Percy is still back there. I'll be right back." I tell Annabeth, who glances between me and the door to the deck.
"Go. Hurry."
I nod, and rush past the frantic ghosts to where Percy emerged from the berth deck. He had a sailor's canvas knapsack slung over his shoulder, which I immediately knew that the contents were what survived the Hydra.
"Come on, Annabeth and Tyson are already up there." I tell him, rushing upstairs to my friends. He followed me, but then stopped. When I had asked him why, he told me to follow him. Confused, I did.
We crept to the edge of the ventilation grate, but what was strange, is that the closer we got, the more I felt like picking a fight. I wanted to punch a ghost. Percy and I peered down into the boiler deck.
Clarisse was standing right below us, talking to an image that shimmered in the steam from the boilers- a muscular man in black leather biker clothes, with a military haircut, red-tinted sunglasses, and a knife strapped to his side.
I could tell Percy recognised him, but I didn't. My friend clenched his fist upon first sight.
"I don't want excuses, little girl!" he growled.
"Y-yes, father," Clarisse mumbled.
Oh gods, it was Ares.
"You don't want to see me mad, do you?"
"No, father."
"No, father," Ares mimicked. "You're pathetic. I should've let one of my sons take this quest."
"I'll succeed!" Clarisse promised, her voice trembling. "I'll make you proud."
"You'd better," he warned. "You asked me for this quest, girl. If you let that slimeball Jackson kid steal it from you-"
"But the Oracle said-"
"I DON'T CARE WHAT IT SAID!" Ares bellowed with such force that his image shimmered. "You will succeed. And if you don't..."
He raised his fist. Even though he was only a figure in the steam, Clarisse flinched.
"Do we understand each other?" Ares growled.
The alarm bells rang again. I heard voices coming toward me, officers yelling orders to ready the cannons.
I crept back from the ventilation grate and made my way upstairs to join Annabeth and Tyson on the spar deck.
***
A/N: I almost published this as chapter 134 on accident, and it seriously feels like that is how long this entire fic is going to be. And there is only a few more chapters before you find out what Lillian is going to look for a cure for. See you all soon!