The Forbidden Daughter | PJO Book One

three

ARIANA MAKES A DECISION

Mrs. O'Leary saw them before they saw her, which was a pretty good trick considering she's the size of a garbage truck.

Ariana walked into the arena, and a wall of darkness slammed into her.

"WOOF!"

The next thing she knew she was flat on the ground with a huge paw on her chest and an oversize Brillo-pad tongue licking my face.

"Ow!" Ariana said. "Hey, girl. Good to see you too. Ow!"

It took a few minutes for Mrs. O'Leary to calm down and get off her. By then she was pretty much drenched in dog drool.

She wanted to play fetch, so Percy picked up a bronze shield and tossed it across the arena.

Ariana glanced around the room. "Skye still isn't back."

"She'll return." Percy said, throwing a bronze shield again. "She always does, right?"

"Yeah." Ariana nodded. "But I think she's gone into the underworld."

"What makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "Just a feeling."

Soon she started barking a sound slightly louder than an artillery gun like she needed to go for a walk.

The other campers didn't think it was funny when she went to the bathroom in the arena. It had caused more than one unfortunate slip-and-slide accident.

So Ariana opened the gates of the arena, and she bounded straight toward the woods.

They jogged after her, not too concerned that she was getting ahead. Nothing in the woods could threaten Mrs. O'Leary.

Even the dragons and giant scorpions ran away when she came close. When they finally tracked her down, she wasn't using the facilities.

She was in a familiar clearing where the Council of Cloven Elders had once put Grover on trial. The place didn't look so good.

The grass had turned yellow. The three topiary thrones had lost all their leaves. But that's not what surprised her.

In the middle of the glade stood the weirdest trio she had ever seen: Juniper the tree nymph, Nico di Angelo, and a very old, very fat satyr.

Nico was the only one who didn't seem freaked out by Mrs. O'Leary's appearance. He looked pretty much like she had seen him in her dream an aviator's jacket, black jeans, and a T-shirt with dancing skeletons on it, like one of those Day of the Dead pictures.

His Stygian iron sword hung at his side. He was only twelve, but he looked much older and sadder.

He nodded when he saw them, then went back to scratching Mrs. O'Leary's ears. She sniffed his legs like he was the most interesting thing since rib-eye steaks.

Being the son of Hades, he'd probably been traveling in all sorts of hellhound-friendly places.

The old satyr didn't look nearly so happy. "Will someone tell me what is this underworld creature doing in my forest!"

He waved his arms and trotted on his hooves as if the grass were hot. "You there, Percy Jackson! Is this your beast?"

"Sorry, Leneus," He said. "That's your name, right?"

The satyr rolled his eyes. His fur was dust bunny gray, and a spiderweb grew between his horns.

His belly would've made him an invincible bumper car. "Well, of course I'm Leneus. Don't tell me you've forgotten a member of the Council so quickly. Now, call off your beast!"