the_blood_of_olympus_-_rick_riordan

Piper took her friend’s hands. They were trembling badly. She remembered her first day at Camp
Half-Blood, when Annabeth had given her a tour. Annabeth had been shaken up about Percy’s
disappearance and, though Piper was pretty disoriented and scared herself, comforting Annabeth had
made her feel needed, like she might actually have a place among these crazy-powerful demigods.
Annabeth Chase was the bravest person she knew. If even she needed a shoulder to cry on once in
a while … well, Piper was glad to offer hers.
‘Hey,’ she said gently. ‘Don’t try to shut out the feelings. You won’t be able to. Just let them wash
over you and drain out again. You’re scared.’
‘Gods, yes, I’m scared.’
‘You’re angry.’
‘At Percy for frightening me,’ she said. ‘At my mom for sending me on that horrible quest in Rome.
At … well, pretty much everybody. Gaia. The giants. The gods for being jerks.’
‘At me?’ Piper asked.
Annabeth managed a shaky laugh. ‘Yes, for being so annoyingly calm.’
‘It’s all a lie.’
‘And for being a good friend.’
‘Ha!’
‘And for having your head on straight about guys and relationships and –’
‘I’m sorry. Have you met me?’
Annabeth punched her arm, but there was no force to it. ‘I’m stupid, sitting here talking about my
feelings when we have a quest to finish.’
‘The chained god’s heartbeat can wait.’ Piper tried for a smile, but her own fears welled up inside
her – for Jason and her friends on the Argo II, for herself, if she wasn’t able to do what Aphrodite had
advised. In the end, you will only have the power for one word. It must be the right word, or you
will lose everything.
‘Whatever happens,’ she told Annabeth, ‘I’m your friend. Just … remember that, okay?’
Especially if I’m not around to remind you, Piper thought.
Annabeth started to say something. Suddenly a roaring sound came from the ruins. One of the stonelined
pits, which Piper had mistaken for wells, spewed out a three-storey geyser of flames and shut
off just as quickly.
‘What the heck?’ Piper asked.
Annabeth sighed. ‘I don’t know, but I have a feeling it’s something we should check out.’
Three pits lay side by side like finger holes on a recorder. Each one was perfectly round, two feet in
diameter, tiled around the rim with limestone; each one plunged straight into darkness. Every few
seconds, seemingly at random, one of the three pits shot a column of fire into the sky. Each time, the
colour and intensity of the flames were different.
‘They weren’t doing this before.’ Annabeth walked a wide arc around the pits. She still looked
shaky and pale, but her mind was now obviously engaged in the problem at hand. ‘There doesn’t seem
to be any pattern. The timing, the colour, the height of the fire … I don’t get it.’