An hour later, they were rumbling west. There was no problem about who would drive now, because everyone got their own luxury car. Zoe and Bianca were crashed out in a Lexus on the top deck. Grover was playing race car driver behind the wheel of a Lamborghini. And Thalia, Sylvia, and Lux had hot-wired the radio in a black Mercedes SLK so they could pick up the altrock stations from D.C. Not Sylvia's favourite genre, but it was better than some.

"Join you?" Percy asked Thalia, passing Lux, who was on their way to the washroom. He completely ignored Sylvia and her defiant "No."

Thalia just shrugged, so he climbed into the backseat. 

Ugh, I hate the White Stripes, Fawkes said from where she was perched on the rearview mirror. Their songs are all stolen from children of Aphrodite and Apollo who were too poor to even get lawyers to fine them. They're also very rude to everyone.

Yeah, I don't really like their songs, either, Sylvia admitted. The ones they made and didn't steal, anyways.

"Nice coat," Thalia told Percy.

"Mhm," Sylvia agreed. "Really brings out the fake innocence, you know? Makes everyone think you're not a complete assh-"

Sylvia! Fawkes interrupted, actually squawking so others could hear.

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "Jerk."

Percy pulled the brown duster around him, probably thankful for the warmth, and flipped Sylvia off. "Yeah, but the Nemean Lion wasn't the monster we're looking for."

"Not even c-close," Lux agreed, opening the door farthest away from Percy and getting in. 

"We've got a long way to go," Percy sighed. 

"If you're only gonna complain, Jackson, just leave," Sylvia snapped. "We don't need you."

"Oh? You don't?" Percy challenged, a spark in his sea green eyes (not that Sylvia noticed the colour).

"When have we ever needed you? You just mess things up."

Sylvia, Fawkes protested, that's an awful thing to say.

That's his problem, Sylvia told her rebelliously.

"I mess things up? Don't do anything? Are you sure that isn't you?" Percy asked, putting a hand in his pocket--which just happened to be where Riptide was--and glaring at her. "I was the one who killed the lion, wasn't I? What were you doing when we fought for our lives again? Oh, yeah, watching us from the safety of the top floor!"

That stung. Sylvia had wanted to stay with Lux, because it was their first time fighting a monster while holding an actual weapon. Yeah, maybe the top floor was technically safer, but it hadn't stopped the monster from attacking her sibling. She hadn't stopped the monster from attacking her sibling.

Hey, Fawkes said, it wasn't your fault.

"What did you just say to me?" Sylvia had a dangerous glint in her eyes. "I know you didn't accuse me of slacking off in the middle of battle, right? Because you know I wouldn't do that, right?"

"It sure looked like that was what you were doing," the stupid, stupid boy argued.

"You're just jealous you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn," Sylvia concluded. "I don't blame you. You really are awful at archery, héros courageux."

Lux stifled a snicker, looking down when Percy frowned at them.

The music playing in the car, contrasting everyone's mood, stopped. "Don't glare at my sibling," Sylvia hissed in a low voice, her steel knife finding its way to her hand in a matter of nanoseconds.

"Whoa," Thalia said, finally stepping in after watching them back and forth for a while. "I get it. I mean, who doesn't wanna kill him? But maybe not right now."

The daughter of Apollo rolled her eyes, wondering what gotten in to her. "Whatever. Come on, Lux. Let's go."

Lux nodded, eyes wide, and fumbled with the door handle for a moment before opening it.

Sylvia, you shouldn't leave the room like this. They could resent you now, Fawkes chided.

Percy already resents me, and I don't care about Thalia.

***

Sylvia curled up in a corner, watching Lux breathe evenly. She couldn't fall asleep. All she could think about was Annabeth.

"Oh, she's okay right now," a voice said right next to her. 

Sylvia looked over, unsurprised to find her dad--still disguised as the homeless guy--sitting beside her. It was the worst condition she'd ever seen him it. His coat was ripped, stuffing pouring out of it. He looked like a teddy bear that had been run over by a truck.

"Am I dreaming already?" she asked. "This is the most often I've seen you in real life, like, ever."

"Nope, not dreaming. Dreams are funny, though. People love and hate them. If it weren't for dreams," he said, "I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids, yet they're so often so terrifying." He cleared his throat, then held up his hands dramatically:

"Dreams like a podcast/Downloading truth in my ears/They tell me cool stuff."

"Dad--" Sylvia started, but was rudely interrupted.

"I'm incognito right now." Apollo put a finger to his lips. "Call me Fred."

"Mon pere s'appelle Fred maintenant?" Sylvia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oui. Kinda. As you know, Zeus insists on certain rules. Hands off, when there's a human quest. Even when something really major is wrong. But nobody messes with my baby sister. Nobody. Plus, you're my favourite." "Fred" winked.

"Can you help us, then?" Sylvia asked.

"Shhh. I already have. Haven't you been looking outside?"

"The train. How fast are we moving?"

Her papa chuckled. "Fast enough. Unfortunately, we're running out of time. It's almost sunset. But I imagine we'll get you across a good chunk of America, at least."

"But where is Artemis?"

His face darkened. "I know a lot, and I see a lot But even I don't know that. She's...clouded from me. I don't like it."

"What about Annabeth?"

"All I know is they're in the same place." Apollo sighed. "Also, you should talk to Aphrodite as soon as you can. She's the best at helping everyone quickly move on.

Flames rushed to Sylvia's cheeks, and not the soft, delicate type of blush. This was full-on anger. "And the monster Artemis was seeking?" she asked. "Do you know what it is?"

"No," Apollo said. "But there is one who might. If you haven't yet found the monster when you reach San Francisco, get that imprudent young son of Poseidon to seek out Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea. He has a long memory and a sharp eye. He has the gift of knowledge sometimes kept obscure from my Oracle."

"But it's your Oracle," Sylvia protested. "Most of us in Cabin 7 are awful at interpreting prophecies, but you're literally the god of them. Can't you tell us what it means?"

Apollo sighed. "You may as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem, or ask you to explain your songs."

"You've heard those?" Sylvia asked. She'd kept those a secret, even going as far as making sure none of her siblings were in the room whenever she wrote or sang them, because the songs honestly weren't that good.

"Of course I have. I always get alerted to good music. But anyways, where was I? Oh, yeah, about explanations...it defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search.

"In other words, you don't know."

Apollo checked his watch. "Ah, look at that! I gotta go talk to Percy before I run. I sadly doubt I can risk helping you again any time soon, Sylvia, but remember what I said! Also, get some sleep. You really need it. And when you return, I expect a good haiku about your journey!"

Sylvia wanted to protest that a) she wasn't tired, b) Percy should be a much lower priority for Apollo, since she was literally the god's daughter, and c) poetry was not a trait she'd inherited from her papa--thankfully---but Apollo snapped his fingers, and the next thing she knew she was closing her eyes.

Oops kinda haven't updated this in forever

Sorry lmao

Word count: 1.4k (1405, to be exact)

Anygays, fight between Sylvia and Percy!!! I had a lot of fun making that for some reason. They were both so unnecessarily mean! 

But, uh, yeah. There the chapter is

I really hope I stop procrastinating this and actually writing it semi-regularly, but, knowing me, that's never going to happen

QOTD: What's your zodiac sign and do you think you act like a stereotypical person of that sign or not?

A: I'm a Libra and I'm stereotypical in some senses. For example, I'm extremely indecisive. I'm not really obsessed with makeup or anything like that, though. Makeup is fun, I'm just too lazy to do it most of the time

Cya!

~Aspen