“.you're not the first I've interrupted by mistake. Her feet go out from under her, and she lands flat on her back at the top of the stairs, hands still valiantly clapped over her eyes, which rather ruins it all.” I scream and Percy screams and Scipio lets loud a horrified gurgle, and then Felicity appears behind him in the doorway, claps her hands over her eyes, tries to run with her hands still covered, and slips in one of the dripping puddles we left on the stairs. I screech and he slips and he slips, one leg tangled up in the sheets, and then suddenly the bedroom door bangs opens and there's Scipio. Percy tries to come to my aid, but with one eye closed, he misjudges were he places his foot and steps on me. My vision swims, and when I reach to steady myself I put my hand straight into the oily puddle of lineament, and I crash backward onto the floor. My wrist is wet, and I look just as a drizzle of blood courses down my arm into the crook of my elbow. I can feel a trickle down the back of my neck, and I clap a hand against it, like I can force the blood to stay inside me if I just press tightly enough. I touch the back of my head, and it comes back damp and red. Percy's got one eye open but blinking frantically, hand extended blindly to me. The bottle of oil falls off the edge and shatters into a soupy, amber pool. I try to grab the bedpost, but my hands are so slippery that Islide right off, and crash to the floor, my head connecting painfully with the corner of the drawer I left open. He wicks his hand away from his eye just as I lean, and his elbow collides with the side of my face, hard enough that I'm knocked sideways.
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