A/N: And hello again! I won't keep you for long. Here's the next chapter!

POV: Percy

Disclaimer: I don't own either series.

Chapter 18: Over the Atlantic

We had been flying over the Atlantic for two and a half hours now. The air was frigid; a low fog hung over the inky black ocean. Most days, the ocean was my friend. It was normally calm when I was around, tinged a brilliant turquoise. Today, though, the ocean was forbidding and so black that I didn't want to risk jumping in; it looked like I might drown if I jumped today, or freeze to death. Either Poseidon was not in a good mood, or there was something severely wrong with this part of the Atlantic.

I shook the thought out of my head and focused on the horizon - which didn't really help, because the horizon was made of the same inky black ocean and depressing gray clouds.

I hoped we would get to land soon. I was getting saddle sores from riding a bronze metal dragon for three hours and sitting upright was making me tired. Maybe there was a button that would make Festus fly really fast - and knowing Leo, there probably was. But that didn't stop me from missing the Argo II. That had been an awesome ship. A flying dragon? Not so much. But then again, it wasn't like I could fly a ship like Leo could. I would probably be able to sail it on the ocean, but the black waves didn't seem to be a good omen.

I turned my head around to look at Jason and Renesmee. They were talking again; who knew they'd get along so well? But it wasn't anything romantic. Jason had Piper, and I assumed Renesmee had some other vampire - or possibly a werewolf - at home. They were just two half-bloods who got along very well with each other.

I looked ahead at the ocean again, leaning my chin on Festus's head, and inhaled the salty sea scent, looking down at the black waves foaming over each other, then looking ahead at the stormy gray clouds that were so much like Annabeth's eyes. Suddenly the clouds and ink sea disappeared, and I was looking at Annabeth again. Stay safe, Seaweed Brain. I love you, she said to me. Then she dissolved into a shower of teal sea mist and flew away on a slight breeze. But instead of opening my eyes, I fell into a dream.

I was in some village, but I didn't know where. There was a palace at the top of a hill, which was overcrowded with thin, zigzagging cobblestone streets and terra-cotta tile-roofed stone houses. People were everywhere, in front and behind me. "Alright. Now we'll be visiting the Volterra palace," said someone in front of me, with a slight accent that I couldn't recognize. I craned my neck to see a tour guide in front of us, wearing a heavy black and red cloak even though the sun was shining so brightly that I could feel the heat coming from it even in the dream. He spoke again, his head slightly bent forward so that his black bangs covered his eyes. "Follow me, and keep close, please." He turned and walked off in the other direction, keeping his cloak's hood over his head as he walked through the mob of other tourists. I tried to figure out what the accent was, and finally realized that it was a slight Italian accent. I followed the tour group, floating along in my dream, hoping that no one would notice dream-me. It had happened before with monsters with amazing senses, and that hadn't gone very well. But the man in the black cloak didn't seem like one of those monsters - he didn't seem like a monster at all. Maybe this was some sort of weird dream with only mortals - but why would I have a dream like that? And so I followed the tourist group up the hill towards the beige stone palace.

We got there, and were all led through a maze of gloomy torch-lit halls to an elevator. I tried to remember all of the turns - left, right, left, forward, right, right - but it was impossible. There was no way we'd get out without the tour guide leading us. That right there should have triggered my demigod senses and been a big red flare. But for some reason, I kept floating along instead of turning back, my curiousness leading me onward.

We entered a large room with three thrones in it, its walls and floor both stone, with only a couple of windows letting in dim light. Three figures sat on the thrones, their skin unnaturally white and paper-like. Was this a monster? A god? I was pushed forward by the mob. I heard the subtle click of a lock behind me. Had someone locked us in? I looked back to see the tour guide standing by the door, his hood still covering his eyes.

I turned back to the three king-like figures on their thrones. The middle one stood up, and I could see his silky shoulder-length hair, almost translucent paper-like skin, and eyes. Oh, gods, his eyes. What should have been a neutral green or brown, maybe even blue irises were a flaming bright red. I looked over at the other two sitting on their thrones next to him and saw that they, too, had scarlet eyes.

"Welcome, my visitors," said the middle one in a slight Italian accent, his red eyes gleaming with what seemed like hunger. "I am Aro. We would love to give you a tour of the palace, but before, I'd like to introduce you to the banquet." The other two people on either side of him stood up slowly, and more black-and-red-cloaked people filed into the room, all of their crimson eyes on fire. And then the leader, Aro, moved with such speed that I thought it should have been impossible. One moment he was next to his throne, and the next half-second he was standing over a woman, who screamed, her wrist bloodied with a bite mark. The rest of the monsters all attacked, and one of them was standing over me, his eyes now black, about to bite my neck when –

I snapped out of the dream and slammed into the ocean. The dark, cold inky water enveloped me.