The Blood of Olympus, Page 26

  wristwatch, counting down from 5:00.

  4:59.

  4:58.

  XXXIX

  Reyna

  ‘I WOULDN’T MOVE, PRAETOR!’

  Orion stood on the surface of the water, fifty feet to starboard, an arrow nocked in his bow.

  Through Reyna’s haze of rage and grief, she noticed the giant’s new scars. His fight with the Hunters had left him with mottled grey and pink scar tissue on his arms and face, so he looked like a bruised peach in the process of rotting. The mechanical eye on his left side was dark. His hair had burned away, leaving only ragged patches. His nose was swollen and red from the bowstring that Nico had snapped in his face. All of this gave Reyna a twinge of dark satisfaction.

  Regrettably, the giant still had his smug smile.

  At Reyna’s feet, the timer on the arrow read: 4:42.

  ‘Explosive arrows are very touchy,’ said Orion. ‘Once they’re embedded, even the slightest motion can set them off. I wouldn’t want you to miss the last four minutes of your life.’

  Reyna’s senses sharpened. The pegasi clopped nervously around the Athena Parthenos. Dawn began to break. The wind from the shore brought a faint scent of strawberries. Lying next to her on the deck, Blackjack wheezed and shuddered – still alive, but badly wounded.

  Her heart pounded so hard she thought her eardrums might burst. She extended her strength to Blackjack, trying to keep him alive. She would not see him die.

  She wanted to shout insults at the giant, but her first words were surprisingly calm. ‘What of my sister?’

  Orion’s white teeth flashed in his ruined face. ‘I would love to tell you she is dead. I would love to see the pain on your face. Alas, as far as I know, your sister still lives. So do Thalia Grace and her annoying Hunters. They surprised me, I’ll admit. I was forced into the sea to escape them. For the past few days I have been wounded and in pain, healing slowly, building a new bow. But don’t worry, Praetor. You will die first. Your precious statue will be burned in a great conflagration. After Gaia has risen, when the mortal world is ending, I will find your sister. I will tell her you died painfully. Then I will kill her.’ He grinned. ‘So all is well!’

  4:04.

  Hylla was alive. Thalia and the Hunters were still out there somewhere. But none of that would matter if Reyna’s mission failed. The sun was rising on the last day of the world …

  Blackjack’s breathing became more laboured.

  Reyna mustered her courage. The winged horse needed her. Lord Pegasus had named her Horse Friend, and she would not let him down. She couldn’t think about the entire world right now. She had to concentrate on what was right next to her.

  3:54.

  ‘So.’ She glared at Orion. ‘You’re damaged and ugly, but not dead. I suppose that means I’ll need the help of a god to kill you.’

  Orion chuckled. ‘Sadly, you Romans have never been very good at summoning gods to your aid. I guess they don’t think much of you, eh?’

  Reyna was tempted to agree. She had prayed to her mother … and been blessed with the arrival of a homicidal giant. Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

  And yet …

  Reyna laughed. ‘Ah, Orion.’

  The giant’s smile wavered. ‘You have a strange sense of humour, girl. What are you laughing about?’

  ‘Bellona has answered my prayer. She doesn’t fight my battles for me. She doesn’t guarantee me easy victory. She grants me opportunities to prove myself. She gives me strong enemies and potential allies.’

  Orion’s left eye sparked. ‘You speak nonsense. A column of fire is about to destroy you and your precious Greek statue. No ally can help you. Your mother has abandoned you as you abandoned your legion.’

  ‘But she hasn’t,’ Reyna said. ‘Bellona wasn’t just a war goddess. She wasn’t like the Greek Enyo, who was simply an embodiment of carnage. Bellona’s Temple was where Romans greeted foreign ambassadors. Wars were declared there, but peace treaties were also negotiated – lasting peace, based on strength.’

  3:01.

  Reyna drew her knife. ‘Bellona gave me the chance to make peace with the Greeks and increase the strength of Rome. I took it. If I die, I will die defending that cause. So I say my mother is with me today. She will add her strength to mine. Shoot your arrow, Orion. It won’t matter. When I throw this blade and pierce your heart, you will die.’

  Orion stood motionless on the waves. His face was a mask of concentration. His one good eye blinked amber.

  ‘A bluff,’ he growled. ‘I’ve killed hundreds like you: girls playing at war, pretending they are the equal to giants! I will not grant you a quick death, Praetor. I will watch you burn, the way the Hunters burned me.’

  2:31.

  Blackjack wheezed, kicking his legs against the deck. The sky was turning pink. A wind from the shore caught the camouflage netting on the Athena Parthenos and stripped it away, sending the silvery cloth rippling across the Sound. The Athena Parthenos gleamed in the early light, and Reyna thought how beautiful the goddess would look on the hill above the Greek camp.

  It must happen, she thought, hoping the pegasi could sense her intentions. You must complete the journey without me.

  She inclined her head to the Athena Parthenos. ‘My lady, it has been my honour to escort you.’

  Orion scoffed. ‘Talking to enemy statues now? Futile. You have roughly two minutes of life.’

  ‘Oh, but I don’t abide by your time frame, giant,’ Reyna said. ‘A Roman does not wait for death. She seeks it out and meets it on her own terms.’

  She threw her knife. It hit true – right in the middle of the giant’s chest.

  Orion bellowed in agony, and Reyna thought what a pleasing last sound that was to hear.

  She flung her cloak in front of her and fell on the explosive arrow, determined to shield Blackjack and the other pegasi and hopefully protect the mortals sleeping belowdecks. She had no idea whether her body would contain the explosion, whether her cloak could smother the flames, but it was her best chance to save her friends and her mission.

  She tensed, waiting to die. She felt the pressure as the arrow detonated … but it wasn’t what she expected. Against her ribs, the explosion made only the smallest pop, like an overinflated balloon. Her cloak became uncomfortably warm. No flames burst forth.

  Why was she still alive?

  Rise, said a voice in her head.

  In a trance, Reyna got to her feet. Smoke curled from the edges of her cloak. She realized something was different about the purple fabric. It glittered as if woven through with filaments of Imperial gold. At her feet, a section of the deck had been reduced to a circle of charcoal, but her cloak wasn’t even singed.

  Accept my aegis, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, said the voice. For today, you have proven yourself a hero of Olympus.

  Reyna stared in amazement at the Athena Parthenos, glowing with a faint golden aura.

  The aegis … From Reyna’s years of study, she recalled that the term aegis didn’t apply only to Athena’s shield. It also meant the goddess’s cloak. According to legend, Athena sometimes cut pieces off her mantle and draped them over statues in her temples, or over her chosen heroes, to shield them.

  Reyna’s cloak, which she’d worn for years, had suddenly changed. It had absorbed the explosion.

  She tried to say something, to thank the goddess, but her voice wouldn’t work. The statue’s glowing aura faded. The ringing in Reyna’s ears cleared. She became aware of Orion, still roaring in pain as he staggered across the surface of the water.

  ‘You have failed!’ He clawed her knife from his chest and tossed it into the waves. ‘I still live!’

  He drew his bow and fired, but it seemed to happen in slow motion. Reyna swept her cloak in front of her. The arrow shattered against the cloth. She charged to the railing and leaped at the giant.

  The jump should have been impossibly far, but Reyna felt a surge of power in her limbs, as if her mother, Bellona, was lending he
r strength – a return for all the strength Reyna had lent others over the years.

  Reyna grabbed the giant’s bow and swung around on it like a gymnast, landing on the giant’s back. She locked her legs around his waist, then twisted her cloak into a rope and pulled it across Orion’s neck with all her might.

  He instinctively dropped his bow. He clutched at the glimmering fabric, but his fingers steamed and blistered when he touched it. Sour, acrid smoke rose from his neck.

  Reyna pulled tighter.

  ‘This is for Phoebe,’ she snarled in his ear. ‘For Kinzie. For all those you killed. You will die at the hands of a girl.’

  Orion thrashed and fought, but Reyna’s will was unshakable. The power of Athena infused her cloak. Bellona blessed her with strength and resolve. Not one but two powerful goddesses aided her, yet the kill was for Reyna to complete.

  Complete it she did.

  The giant crumpled to his knees and sank in the water. Reyna didn’t let go until he ceased to thrash and his body dissolved into sea foam. His mechanical eye disappeared beneath the waves. His bow began to sink.

  Reyna let it. She had no interest in spoils of war – no desire to let any part of the giant survive. Like her father’s mania – and all the other angry ghosts of her past – Orion could teach her nothing. He deserved to be forgotten.

  Besides, dawn was breaking.

  Reyna swam for the yacht.

  XL

  Reyna

  NO TIME FOR ENJOYING HER VICTORY OVER ORION.

  Blackjack’s muzzle was foaming. His legs spasmed. Blood trickled from the arrow wound in his flank.

  Reyna ripped through the supply bag that Phoebe had given her. She swabbed the wound with healing potion. She poured unicorn draught over the blade of her silver pocketknife.

  ‘Please, please,’ she murmured to herself.

  In truth, she had no idea what she was doing, but she cleaned the wound as best she could and gripped the shaft of the arrow. If it had a barbed tip, pulling it out might cause more damage. But, if it was poisoned, she couldn’t leave it in. Nor could she push it through, since it was embedded in the middle of his body. She would have to choose the lesser evil.

  ‘This will hurt, my friend,’ she told Blackjack.

  He huffed, as if to say, Tell me something I don’t know.

  With her knife, she cut a slit on either side of the wound. She pulled out the arrow. Blackjack shrieked, but the arrow came out cleanly. The point wasn’t barbed. It could have been poisoned, but there was no way to be sure. One problem at a time.

  Reyna poured more healing potion over the wound and bandaged it. She applied pressure, counting under her breath. The oozing seemed to lessen.

  She trickled unicorn draught into Blackjack’s mouth.

  She lost track of time. The horse’s pulse became stronger and steadier. His eyes cleared of pain. His breathing eased.

  By the time Reyna stood up, she was shaking with fear and exhaustion, but Blackjack was still alive.

  ‘You’re going to be fine,’ she promised. ‘I’ll get you help from Camp Half-Blood.’

  Blackjack made a grumbling sound. Reyna could’ve sworn he tried to say doughnuts. She must have been going delirious.

  Belatedly, she realized how much the sky had lightened. The Athena Parthenos gleamed in the sun. Guido and the other winged horses pawed the deck impatiently.

  ‘The battle …’ Reyna turned towards the shore but saw no signs of combat. A Greek trireme bobbed lazily in the morning tide. The hills looked green and peaceful.

  For a moment, she wondered if the Romans had decided not to attack.

  Perhaps Octavian had come to his senses. Perhaps Nico and the others had managed to win over the legion.

  Then an orange glow illuminated the hilltops. Multiple streaks of fire climbed skyward like burning fingers.

  The onagers had shot their first volley.

  XLI

  Piper

  PIPER WASN’T SURPRISED when the snake people arrived.

  All week, she’d been thinking about her encounter with Sciron the bandit, when she’d stood on the deck of the Argo II after escaping a gigantic Destructo-Turtle and made the mistake of saying, ‘We’re safe.’

  Instantly an arrow had hit the mainmast, an inch in front of her nose.

  Piper learned a valuable lesson from that: never assume you’re safe, and never, ever tempt the Fates by announcing that you think you’re safe.

  So when the ship docked at the harbour in Piraeus, on the outskirts of Athens, Piper resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, they had finally reached their destination. Somewhere nearby – past those rows of cruise ships, past those hills crowded with buildings – they would find the Acropolis. Today, one way or another, their journey would end.

  But that didn’t mean she could relax. Any moment, a nasty surprise might come flying out of nowhere.

  As it turned out, the surprise was three dudes with snake tails instead of legs.

  Piper was on watch while her friends geared up for combat – checking their weapons and armour, loading the ballistae and catapults. She spotted the snake guys slithering along the docks, winding through crowds of mortal tourists who paid them no attention.

  ‘Um … Annabeth?’ Piper called.

  Annabeth and Percy came to her side.

  ‘Oh, great,’ Percy said. ‘Dracaenae.’

  Annabeth narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t think so. At least not like any I’ve seen. Dracaenae have two serpent trunks for legs. These guys just have one.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Percy said. ‘These look more human on top, too. Not all scaly and green and stuff. So do we talk or fight?’

  Piper was tempted to say fight. She couldn’t help thinking of the story she’d told Jason – about the Cherokee hunter who had broken his taboo and turned into a snake. These three looked like they’d been eating a lot of squirrel meat.

  Weirdly, the one in the lead reminded Piper of her dad when he’d grown a beard for his role in King of Sparta. The snake man held his head high. His face was chiselled and bronze, his eyes black as basalt, his curly dark hair glistening with oil. His upper body rippled with muscles, covered only by a Greek chlamys – a white wool cloak loosely wrapped and pinned at the shoulder. From the waist down, his body was one giant serpent trunk – about eight feet of green tail undulating behind him as he moved.

  In one hand he carried a staff topped with a glowing green jewel. In his other, he carried a platter covered with a silver dome, like a main course for a fancy dinner.

  The two guys behind him appeared to be guards. They wore bronze breastplates and elaborate helmets topped with horsehair bristles. Their spears were tipped with green stone points. Their oval shields were emblazoned with a large Greek letter K – kappa.

  They stopped a few yards from the Argo II. The leader looked up and studied the demigods. His expression was intense but inscrutable. He might have been angry or worried or terribly in need of a restroom.

  ‘Permission to come aboard.’ His rasping voice made Piper think of a straight razor being wiped across a strop – like in her grandfather’s barbershop back in Oklahoma.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked.

  He fixed his dark eyes on her. ‘I am Kekrops, the first and eternal king of Athens. I would welcome you to my city.’ He held up the covered platter. ‘Also, I brought a Bundt cake.’

  Piper glanced at her friends. ‘A trick?’

  ‘Probably,’ Annabeth said.

  ‘At least he brought dessert.’ Percy smiled down at the snake guys. ‘Welcome aboard!’

  Kekrops agreed to leave his guards above deck with Buford the table, who ordered them to drop and give him twenty push-ups. The guards seemed to take this as a challenge.

  Meanwhile, the king of Athens was invited to the mess hall for a ‘get to know you’ meeting.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ Jason offered.

  Kekrops wrinkled his nose. ‘Snake people do not sit.’<
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  ‘Please remain standing,’ Leo said. He cut the cake and stuffed a piece in his mouth before Piper could warn him it might be poisoned, or inedible for mortals, or just plain bad.

  ‘Dang!’ He grinned. ‘Snake people know how to make Bundt cake. Kind of orangey, with a hint of honey. Needs a glass of milk.’

  ‘Snake people do not drink milk,’ Kekrops said. ‘We are lactose-intolerant reptiles.’

  ‘Me, too!’ Frank said. ‘I mean … lactose intolerant. Not a reptile. Though I can be a reptile sometimes –’

  ‘Anyway,’ Hazel interrupted, ‘King Kekrops, what brings you here? How did you know we’d arrived?’

  ‘I know everything that happens in Athens,’ Kekrops said. ‘I was the city’s founder, its first king, born of the earth. I am the one who judged the dispute between Athena and Poseidon, and chose Athena to be the patron of the city.’

  ‘No hard feelings, though,’ Percy muttered.

  Annabeth elbowed him. ‘I’ve heard of you, Kekrops. You were the first to offer sacrifices to Athena. You built her first shrine on the Acropolis.’

  ‘Correct.’ Kekrops sounded bitter, like he regretted his decision. ‘My people were the original Athenians – the gemini.’

  ‘Like your zodiac sign?’ Percy asked. ‘I’m a Leo.’

  ‘No, stupid,’ Leo said. ‘I’m a Leo. You’re a Percy.’

  ‘Will you two stop it?’ Hazel chided. ‘I think he means gemini like doubled – half man, half snake. That’s what his people are called. He’s a geminus, singular.’

  ‘Yes …’ Kekrops leaned away from Hazel as if she somehow offended him. ‘Millennia ago, we were driven underground by the two-legged humans, but I know the ways of the city better than any. I came to warn you. If you try to approach the Acropolis aboveground, you will be destroyed.’

  Jason stopped nibbling his cake. ‘You mean … by you?’

  ‘By Porphyrion’s armies,’ said the snake king. ‘The Acropolis is ringed with great siege weapons – onagers.’

  ‘More onagers?’ Frank protested. ‘Did they have a sale on them or something?’

  ‘The Cyclopes,’ Hazel guessed. ‘They’re supplying both Octavian and the giants.’

  Percy grunted. ‘Like we needed more proof that Octavian is on the wrong side.’

  ‘That is not the only threat,’ Kekrops warned. ‘The air is filled with storm spirits and gryphons. All roads to the Acropolis are patrolled by the Earthborn.’

  Frank drummed his fingers on the Bundt cake cover. ‘So, what, we should just give up? We’ve come too far for that.’