Bewitched || P. Jackson

𝕎elcome to New Rome Airspace

Until she met the exploding statue, Nicki thought she was prepared for anything. She'd paced the deck of their flying warship, the Argo II, checking and double-checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. She confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast. She reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew—the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan. 

Most importantly, she pulled aside their war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die!" 

Everything seemed to be in order. 

In a desperate attempt to replace her anxious pacing with something productive, Nicki found herself sat cross-legged on the deck of the Argo II. Her sword lay in front of her as she meticulously sharpened it. 

"D'you need me to knock you out?" Ethan asked his best friend from his position beside Annabeth. "You seem a little tense."

"Be nice." The blonde gave Ethan a gentle whack on the back of the head. "We all know you're almost in tears at the thought of seeing Percy again. 

At the mention of his name, Ethan had to suck in a sharp breath. "Shut up."

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. "It's showtime." Annabeth gripped one of the bronze shields that lined the starboard rail. Her crewmates took their places. 

"I'm actually going to throw up." Nicki hissed, burying her head into her hands. 

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling lovers. Most helmsmen would've been satisfied with a pilot's wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD. 

Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practising her lines. "Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk."

Her charmspeak was so powerful, the words flowed over Nicki, filling her with the desire to drop her sword and have a nice long chat. For a child of Aphrodite, Piper tried hard to play down her beauty. Today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink Hello Kitty designs. Her choppy brown hair was braided down the right side with an eagle's feather. 

Then there was Piper's boyfriend—Jason. He stood at the bow on the raised crossbow platform, where the Romans could easily spot him. His knuckles were white on the hilt of his golden sword. Otherwise, he looked calm for a guy who was making himself a target. Over his jeans and orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he'd donned a toga and a purple cloak—symbols of his old rank as praetor. With his wind-ruffled blond hair and his icy blue eyes, he looked ruggedly handsome and in control—just like a son of Jupiter should. He'd grown up at Camp Jupiter, so hopefully his familiar face would make the Romans hesitant to blow the ship out of the sky.

Every muscle in her body tensed. This was a terrible plan. She almost ordered Leo to reverse course. 

Then, in the valley below, horns sounded. The Romans had spotted them. Nicki thought she knew what to expect. Jason had described Camp Jupiter to her in great detail. Still, she had trouble believing her eyes.