“We’ll be outlaws as well as traitors,” Jason confirmed. “Any Roman demigod would have the right to kill us on sight. But I wouldn’t worry about that. If we get across the Atlantic, they’ll give up on chasing us. They’ll assume that we’ll die in the Mediterranean—the Mare Nostrum.” Percy pointed his pizza slice at Jason. “You, sir, are a ray of sunshine.” Jason didn’t argue. The other demigods stared at their plates, except for Percy, who continued to enjoy his pizza. Where he put all that food, Piper didn’t know. The guy could eat like a satyr.
