File - Young Adult Book PDFs

AlsobyRickRiordan
PercyJacksonandtheOlympians
BookOne:TheLightningThief
BookTwo:TheSeaofMonsters
BookThree:TheTitan’sCurse
BookFour:TheBattleoftheLabyrinth
BookFive:TheLastOlympian
TheDemigodFiles
PercyJackson’sGreekGods,illustratedbyJohnRocco
PercyJackson’sGreekHeroes,illustratedbyJohnRocco
TheLightningThief:TheGraphicNovel
TheSeaofMonsters:TheGraphicNovel
TheTitan’sCurse:TheGraphicNovel
TheKaneChronicles
BookOne:TheRedPyramid
BookTwo:TheThroneofFire
BookThree:TheSerpent’sShadow
TheRedPyramid:TheGraphicNovel
TheThroneofFire:TheGraphicNovel
TheHeroesofOlympus
BookOne:TheLostHero
BookTwo:TheSonofNeptune
BookThree:TheMarkofAthena
BookFour:TheHouseofHades
BookFive:TheBloodofOlympus
TheDemigodDiaries
TheLostHero:TheGraphicNovel
MagnusChaseandtheGodsofAsgard
BookOne:TheSwordofSummer
Copyright©2016byRickRiordan
CoverdesignbySJIAssociates,Inc.
Coverillustration©2016byJohnRocco
Allrightsreserved.PublishedbyDisney•Hyperion,animprintofDisneyBookGroup.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedor
transmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,electronicormechanical,includingphotocopying,recording,orbyanyinformationstorageand
retrievalsystem,withoutwrittenpermissionfromthepublisher.ForinformationaddressDisney•Hyperion,125WestEndAvenue,New
York,NewYork10023.
ISBN978-1-4847-3667-8
Visitwww.DisneyBooks.com
Contents
TitlePage
AlsobyRickRiordan
Copyright
Dedication
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GuidetoApollo-Speak
AbouttheAuthor
TotheMuseCalliope
Thisislongoverdue.Pleasedon’thurtme.
Hoodlumspunchmyface
IwouldsmitethemifIcould
Mortalityblows
MYNAMEISAPOLLO.Iusedtobeagod.
Inmyfourthousandsixhundredandtwelveyears,Ihavedonemanythings.Iinflictedaplagueon
theGreekswhobesiegedTroy.IblessedBabeRuthwiththreehomerunsingamefourofthe1926
WorldSeries.IvisitedmywrathuponBritneySpearsatthe2007MTVVideoMusicAwards.
Butinallmyimmortallife,Ineverbeforecrash-landedinaDumpster.
I’mnotevensurehowithappened.
Isimplywokeupfalling.Skyscrapersspiraledinandoutofview.Flamesstreamedoffmybody.I
triedtofly.Itriedtochangeintoacloudorteleportacrosstheworldordoahundredotherthingsthat
shouldhavebeeneasyforme,butIjustkeptfalling.Iplungedintoanarrowcanyonbetweentwo
buildingsandBAM!
Isanythingsadderthanthesoundofagodhittingapileofgarbagebags?
IlaygroaningandachingintheopenDumpster.Mynostrilsburnedwiththestenchofrancid
bolognaanduseddiapers.Myribsfeltbroken,thoughthatshouldn’thavebeenpossible.
Mymindstewedinconfusion,butonememoryfloatedtothesurface—thevoiceofmyfather,
Zeus:YOURFAULT.YOURPUNISHMENT.
Irealizedwhathadhappenedtome.AndIsobbedindespair.
Evenforagodofpoetrysuchasmyself,itisdifficulttodescribehowIfelt.Howcouldyou—a
meremortal—possiblyunderstand?Imaginebeingstrippedofyourclothes,thenblastedwithafire
hoseinfrontofalaughingcrowd.Imaginetheice-coldwaterfillingyourmouthandlungs,the
pressurebruisingyourskin,turningyourjointstoputty.Imaginefeelinghelpless,ashamed,
completelyvulnerable—publiclyandbrutallystrippedofeverythingthatmakesyouyou.My
humiliationwasworsethanthat.
YOURFAULT,Zeus’svoiceranginmyhead.
“No!”Icriedmiserably.“No,itwasn’t!Please!”
Nobodyanswered.Oneithersideofme,rustyfireescapeszigzaggedupbrickwalls.Above,the
winterskywasgrayandunforgiving.
Itriedtorememberthedetailsofmysentencing.Hadmyfathertoldmehowlongthispunishment
wouldlast?WhatwasIsupposedtodotoregainhisfavor?
Mymemorywastoofuzzy.IcouldbarelyrecallwhatZeuslookedlike,muchlesswhyhe’d
decidedtotossmetoearth.There’dbeenawarwiththegiants,Ithought.Thegodshadbeencaught
offguard,embarrassed,almostdefeated.
TheonlythingIknewforcertain:mypunishmentwasunfair.Zeusneededsomeonetoblame,so
ofcoursehe’dpickedthehandsomest,mosttalented,mostpopulargodinthepantheon:me.
Ilayinthegarbage,staringatthelabelinsidetheDumpsterlid:FORPICK-UP,CALL1-555-STENCHY.
Zeuswillreconsider,Itoldmyself.He’sjusttryingtoscareme.Anymoment,hewillyankmeback
toOlympusandletmeoffwithawarning.
“Yes…”Myvoicesoundedhollowanddesperate.“Yes,that’sit.”
Itriedtomove.IwantedtobeonmyfeetwhenZeuscametoapologize.Myribsthrobbed.My
stomachclenched.IclawedtherimoftheDumpsterandmanagedtodragmyselfovertheside.I
toppledoutandlandedonmyshoulder,whichmadeacrackingsoundagainsttheasphalt.
“Araggeeddeee,”Iwhimperedthroughthepain.“Standup.Standup.”
Gettingtomyfeetwasnoteasy.Myheadspun.Ialmostpassedoutfromtheeffort.Istoodina
dead-endalley.Aboutfiftyfeetaway,theonlyexitopenedontoastreetwithgrimystorefrontsfora
bailbondsman’sofficeandapawnshop.IwassomewhereonthewestsideofManhattan,Iguessed,or
perhapsCrownHeights,inBrooklyn.Zeusmusthavebeenreallyangrywithme.
Iinspectedmynewbody.IappearedtobeateenagedCaucasianmale,cladinsneakers,bluejeans,
andagreenpoloshirt.Howutterlydrab.Ifeltsick,weak,andso,sohuman.
Iwillneverunderstandhowyoumortalstolerateit.Youliveyourentirelifetrappedinasackof
meat,unabletoenjoysimplepleasureslikechangingintoahummingbirdordissolvingintopure
light.
Andnow,heavenshelpme,Iwasoneofyou—justanothermeatsack.
Ifumbledthroughmypantspockets,hopingIstillhadthekeystomysunchariot.Nosuchluck.I
foundacheapnylonwalletcontainingahundreddollarsinAmericancurrency—lunchmoneyformy
firstdayasamortal,perhaps—alongwithaNewYorkStatejuniordriver ’slicensefeaturingaphoto
ofadorky,curly-hairedteenwhocouldnotpossiblybeme,withthenameLesterPapadopoulos.The
crueltyofZeusknewnobounds!
IpeeredintotheDumpster,hopingmybow,quiver,andlyremighthavefallentoearthwithme.I
wouldhavesettledformyharmonica.Therewasnothing.
Itookadeepbreath.Cheerup,Itoldmyself.Imusthaveretainedsomeofmygodlyabilities.
Matterscouldbeworse.
Araspyvoicecalled,“Hey,Cade,takealookatthisloser.”
Blockingthealley’sexitweretwoyoungmen:onesquatandplatinumblond,theothertalland
redheaded.Bothworeoversizehoodiesandbaggypants.Serpentinetattoodesignscoveredtheir
necks.AlltheyweremissingwerethewordsI’MATHUGprintedinlargelettersacrosstheirforeheads.
Theredheadzeroedinonthewalletinmyhand.“Now,benice,Mikey.Thisguylooksfriendly
enough.”Hegrinnedandpulledahuntingknifefromhisbelt.“Infact,Ibethewantstogiveusallhis
money.”
Iblamemydisorientationforwhathappenednext.
Iknewmyimmortalityhadbeenstrippedaway,butIstillconsideredmyselfthemightyApollo!
Onecannotchangeone’swayofthinkingaseasilyasonemight,say,turnintoasnowleopard.
Also,onpreviousoccasionswhenZeushadpunishedmebymakingmemortal(yes,ithad
happenedtwicebefore),Ihadretainedmassivestrengthandatleastsomeofmygodlypowers.I
assumedthesamewouldbetruenow.
IwasnotgoingtoallowtwoyoungmortalruffianstotakeLesterPapadopoulos’swallet.
Istoodupstraight,hopingCadeandMikeywouldbeintimidatedbymyregalbearinganddivine
beauty.(Surelythosequalitiescouldnotbetakenfromme,nomatterwhatmydriver ’slicensephoto
lookedlike.)IignoredthewarmDumpsterjuicetricklingdownmyneck.
“IamApollo,”Iannounced.“Youmortalshavethreechoices:offermetribute,flee,orbe
destroyed.”
Iwantedmywordstoechothroughthealley,shakethetowersofNewYork,andcausetheskiesto
rainsmokingruin.Noneofthathappened.Ontheworddestroyed,myvoicesqueaked.
TheredheadCadegrinnedevenwider.IthoughthowamusingitwouldbeifIcouldmakethe
snaketattoosaroundhisneckcomealiveandstranglehimtodeath.
“Whatdoyouthink,Mikey?”heaskedhisfriend.“Shouldwegivethisguytribute?”
Mikeyscowled.Withhisbristlyblondhair,hiscruelsmalleyes,andhisthickframe,hereminded
meofthemonstroussowthatterrorizedthevillageofCrommyonbackinthegoodolddays.
“Notfeelingthetribute,Cade.”Hisvoicesoundedlikehe’dbeeneatinglitcigarettes.“Whatwere
theotheroptions?”
“Fleeing?”saidCade.
“Nah,”saidMikey.
“Beingdestroyed?”
Mikeysnorted.“Howaboutwedestroyhiminstead?”
Cadeflippedhisknifeandcaughtitbythehandle.“Icanlivewiththat.Afteryou.”
Islippedthewalletintomybackpocket.Iraisedmyfists.Ididnotliketheideaofflattening
mortalsintofleshwaffles,butIwassureIcoulddoit.Eveninmyweakenedstate,Iwouldbefar
strongerthananyhuman.
“Iwarnedyou,”Isaid.“Mypowersarefarbeyondyourcomprehension.”
Mikeycrackedhisknuckles.“Uh-huh.”
Helumberedforward.
Assoonashewasinrange,Istruck.Iputallmywrathintothatpunch.Itshouldhavebeenenough
tovaporizeMikeyandleaveathug-shapedimpressionontheasphalt.
Insteadheducked,whichIfoundquiteannoying.
Istumbledforward.IhavetosaythatwhenPrometheusfashionedyouhumansoutofclayhedida
shoddyjob.Mortallegsareclumsy.Itriedtocompensate,drawinguponmyboundlessreservesof
agility,butMikeykickedmeintheback.Ifellonmydivineface.
Mynostrilsinflatedlikeairbags.Myearspopped.Thetasteofcopperfilledmymouth.Irolled
over,groaning,andfoundthetwoblurrythugsstaringdownatme.
“Mikey,”saidCade,“areyoucomprehendingthisguy’spower?”
“Nah,”saidMikey.“I’mnotcomprehendingit.”
“Fools!”Icroaked.“Iwilldestroyyou!”
“Yeah,sure.”Cadetossedawayhisknife.“ButfirstIthinkwe’llstompyou.”
Caderaisedhisbootovermyface,andtheworldwentblack.
Agirlfromnowhere
Completesmyembarrassment
Stupidbananas
IHADNOTBEENSTOMPEDsobadlysincemyguitarcontestagainstChuckBerryin1957.
AsCadeandMikeykickedme,Icurledintoaball,tryingtoprotectmyribsandhead.Thepain
wasintolerable.Iretchedandshuddered.Iblackedoutandcameto,myvisionswimmingwithred
splotches.Whenmyattackersgottiredofkickingme,theyhitmeovertheheadwithabagof
garbage,whichburstandcoveredmeincoffeegroundsandmoldyfruitpeels.
Atlasttheysteppedaway,breathingheavily.Roughhandspattedmedownandtookmywallet.
“Lookeehere,”saidCade.“SomecashandanIDfor…LesterPapadopoulos.”
Mikeylaughed.“Lester?That’sevenworsethanApollo.”
Itouchedmynose,whichfeltroughlythesizeandtextureofawater-bedmattress.Myfingers
cameawayglisteningred.
“Blood,”Imuttered.“That’snotpossible.”
“It’sverypossible,Lester.”Cadecrouchednexttome.“Andtheremightbemorebloodinyour
nearfuture.Youwanttoexplainwhyyoudon’thaveacreditcard?Oraphone?I’dhatetothinkIdid
allthatstompingforjustahundredbucks.”
Istaredatthebloodonmyfingertips.Iwasagod.Ididnothaveblood.EvenwhenI’dbeenturned
mortalbefore,goldenichorstillranthroughmyveins.Ihadneverbeforebeenso…converted.It
mustbeamistake.Atrick.Something.
Itriedtositup.
MyhandhitabananapeelandIfellagain.Myattackershowledindelight.
“Ilovethisguy!”Mikeysaid.
“Yeah,butthebosstoldushe’dbeloaded,”Cadecomplained.
“Boss…”Imuttered.“Boss?”
“That’sright,Lester.”Cadeflickedafingeragainstthesideofmyhead.“‘Gotothatalley,’the
bosstoldus.‘Easyscore.’Hesaidweshouldroughyouup,takewhateveryouhad.Butthis”—he
wavedthecashundermynose—“thisisn’tmuchofapayday.”
Despitemypredicament,Ifeltasurgeofhopefulness.Ifthesethugshadbeensentheretofindme,
their“boss”mustbeagod.NomortalcouldhaveknownIwouldfalltoearthatthisspot.Perhaps
CadeandMikeywerenothumaneither.Perhapstheywerecleverlydisguisedmonstersorspirits.At
leastthatwouldexplainwhytheyhadbeatenmesoeasily.
“Who—whoisyourboss?”Istruggledtomyfeet,coffeegroundsdribblingfrommyshoulders.
MydizzinessmademefeelasifIwereflyingtooclosetothefumesofprimordialChaos,butI
refusedtobehumbled.“DidZeussendyou?OrperhapsAres?Idemandanaudience!”
MikeyandCadelookedateachotherasiftosay,Canyoubelievethisguy?
Cadepickeduphisknife.“Youdon’ttakeahint,doyou,Lester?”
Mikeypulledoffhisbelt—alengthofbikechain—andwrappeditaroundhisfist.
Idecidedtosingthemintosubmission.Theymayhaveresistedmyfists,butnomortalcould
resistmygoldenvoice.Iwastryingtodecidebetween“YouSendMe”andanoriginalcomposition,
“I’mYourPoetryGod,Baby,”whenavoiceyelled,“HEY!”
Thehooligansturned.Aboveus,onthesecond-storyfireescapelanding,stoodagirlofabout
twelve.“Leavehimalone,”sheordered.
MyfirstthoughtwasthatArtemishadcometomyaid.Mysisteroftenappearedasatwelve-yearoldgirlforreasonsI’dneverfullyunderstood.Butsomethingtoldmethiswasnotshe.
Thegirlonthefireescapedidnotexactlyinspirefear.Shewassmallandpudgy,withdarkhair
choppedinamessypageboystyleandblackcat-eyeglasseswithrhinestonesglitteringinthecorners.
Despitethecold,sheworenocoat.Heroutfitlookedlikeithadbeenpickedbyakindergartener—red
sneakers,yellowtights,andagreentankdress.Perhapsshewasonherwaytoacostumeparty
dressedasatrafficlight.
Still…therewassomethingfierceinherexpression.Shehadthesameobstinatescowlmyold
girlfriendCyreneusedtogetwhenevershewrestledlions.
MikeyandCadedidnotseemimpressed.
“Getlost,kid,”Mikeytoldher.
Thegirlstampedherfoot,causingthefireescapetoshudder.“Myalley.Myrules!”Herbossy
nasalvoicemadehersoundlikeshewaschidingaplaymateinagameofmake-believe.“Whatever
thatloserhasismine,includinghismoney!”
“Whyiseveryonecallingmealoser?”Iaskedweakly.Thecommentseemedunfair,evenifIwas
beat-upandcoveredingarbage;butnoonepaidmeanyattention.
Cadeglaredatthegirl.Theredfromhishairseemedtobeseepingintohisface.“You’vegotto
bekiddingme.Beatit,youbrat!”Hepickeduparottenappleandthrewit.
Thegirldidn’tflinch.Thefruitlandedatherfeetandrolledharmlesslytoastop.
“Youwanttoplaywithfood?”Thegirlwipedhernose.“Okay.”
Ididn’tseeherkicktheapple,butitcameflyingbackwithdeadlyaccuracyandhitCadeinthe
nose.Hecollapsedonhisrump.
Mikeysnarled.Hemarchedtowardthefireescapeladder,butabananapeelseemedtoslither
directlyintohispath.Heslippedandfellhard.“OWWW!”
Ibackedawayfromthefallenthugs.IwonderedifIshouldmakearunforit,butIcouldbarely
hobble.Ialsodidnotwanttobeassaultedwitholdfruit.
Thegirlclimbedovertherailing.Shedroppedtothegroundwithsurprisingnimblenessand
grabbedasackofgarbagefromtheDumpster.
“Stop!”Cadedidasortofscuttlingcrabwalktogetawayfromthegirl.“Let’stalkaboutthis!”
Mikeygroanedandrolledontohisback.
Thegirlpouted.Herlipswerechapped.Shehadwispyblackfuzzatthecornersofhermouth.
“Idon’tlikeyouguys,”shesaid.“Youshouldgo.”
“Yeah!”Cadesaid.“Sure!Just…”
Hereachedforthemoneyscatteredamongthecoffeegrounds.
Thegirlswunghergarbagebag.Inmidarctheplasticexploded,disgorginganimpossible
numberofrottenbananas.TheyknockedCadeflat.Mikeywasplasteredwithsomanypeelshelooked
likehewasbeingattackedbycarnivorousstarfish.
“Leavemyalley,”thegirlsaid.“Now.”
IntheDumpster,moretrashbagsburstlikepopcornkernels,showeringCadeandMikeywith
radishes,potatopeelings,andothercompostmaterial.Miraculously,noneofitgotonme.Despite
theirinjuries,thetwothugsscrambledtotheirfeetandranaway,screaming.
Iturnedtowardmypint-sizesavior.Iwasnostrangertodangerouswomen.Mysistercouldrain
downarrowsofdeath.Mystepmother,Hera,regularlydrovemortalsmadsothattheywouldhack
eachothertopieces.Butthisgarbage-wieldingtwelve-year-oldmademenervous.
“Thankyou,”Iventured.
Thegirlcrossedherarms.Onhermiddlefingerssheworematchinggoldringswithcrescent
signets.Hereyesglinteddarklylikeacrow’s.(IcanmakethatcomparisonbecauseIinventedcrows.)
“Don’tthankme,”shesaid.“You’restillinmyalley.”
Shewalkedafullcirclearoundme,scrutinizingmyappearanceasifIwereaprizecow.(Ican
alsomakethatcomparison,becauseIusedtocollectprizecows.)
“You’rethegodApollo?”Shesoundedlessthanawestruck.Shealsodidn’tseemfazedbytheidea
ofgodswalkingamongmortals.
“Youwerelistening,then?”
Shenodded.“Youdon’tlooklikeagod.”
“I’mnotatmybest,”Iadmitted.“Myfather,Zeus,hasexiledmefromOlympus.Andwhoare
you?”
Shesmelledfaintlyofapplepie,whichwassurprising,sinceshelookedsogrubby.Partofme
wantedtofindafreshtowel,cleanherface,andgivehermoneyforahotmeal.Partofmewantedto
fendheroffwithachairincaseshedecidedtobiteme.Sheremindedmeofthestraysmysisterwas
alwaysadopting:dogs,panthers,homelessmaidens,smalldragons.
“NameisMeg,”shesaid.
“ShortforMegara?OrMargaret?”
“Margaret.Butdon’tevercallmeMargaret.”
“Andareyouademigod,Meg?”
Shepushedupherglasses.“Whywouldyouthinkthat?”
Againshedidn’tseemsurprisedbythequestion.Isensedshehadheardthetermdemigodbefore.
“Well,”Isaid,“youobviouslyhavesomepower.Youchasedoffthosehooliganswithrottenfruit.
Perhapsyouhavebanana-kinesis?Oryoucancontrolgarbage?IonceknewaRomangoddess,
Cloacina,whopresidedoverthecity’ssewersystem.Perhapsyou’rerelated…?”
Megpouted.IgottheimpressionImighthavesaidsomethingwrong,thoughIcouldn’timagine
what.
“IthinkI’lljusttakeyourmoney,”Megsaid.“Goon.Getoutofhere.”
“No,wait!”Desperationcreptintomyvoice.“Please,I—Imayneedabitofassistance.”
Ifeltridiculous,ofcourse.Me—thegodofprophecy,plague,archery,healing,music,andseveral
otherthingsIcouldn’trememberatthemoment—askingacolorfullydressedstreeturchinforhelp.
ButIhadnooneelse.Ifthischildchosetotakemymoneyandkickmeintothecruelwinterstreets,I
didn’tthinkIcouldstopher.
“SayIbelieveyou…”Meg’svoicetookonasingsongtone,asifshewereabouttoannouncethe
rulesofthegame:I’llbetheprincess,andyou’llbethescullerymaid.“SayIdecidetohelp.What
then?”
Goodquestion,Ithought.“We…weareinManhattan?”
“Mm-hmm.”Shetwirledanddidaplayfulskip-kick.“Hell’sKitchen.”
ItseemedwrongforachildtosayHell’sKitchen.Thenagain,itseemedwrongforachildtolive
inanalleyandhavegarbagefightswiththugs.
IconsideredwalkingtotheEmpireStateBuilding.ThatwasthemoderngatewaytoMount
Olympus,butIdoubtedtheguardswouldletmeuptothesecretsixhundredthfloor.Zeuswouldnot
makeitsoeasy.
PerhapsIcouldfindmyoldfriendChironthecentaur.HehadatrainingcamponLongIsland.He
couldoffermeshelterandguidance.Butthatwouldbeadangerousjourney.Adefenselessgodmakes
forajuicytarget.Anymonsteralongthewaywouldcheerfullydisembowelme.Jealousspiritsand
minorgodsmightalsowelcometheopportunity.ThentherewasCadeandMikey’smysterious
“boss.”Ihadnoideawhohewas,orwhetherhehadother,worseminionstosendagainstme.
EvenifImadeittoLongIsland,mynewmortaleyesmightnotbeabletofindChiron’scampin
itsmagicallycamouflagedvalley.Ineededaguidetogetmethere—someoneexperiencedandclose
by….
“Ihaveanidea.”Istoodasstraightasmyinjuriesallowed.Itwasn’teasytolookconfidentwitha
bloodynoseandcoffeegroundsdrippingoffmyclothes.“Iknowsomeonewhomighthelp.Helives
ontheUpperEastSide.Takemetohim,andIshallrewardyou.”
Megmadeasoundbetweenasneezeandalaugh.“Rewardmewithwhat?”Shedancedaround,
pluckingtwenty-dollarbillsfromthetrash.“I’malreadytakingallyourmoney.”
“Hey!”
Shetossedmemywallet,nowemptyexceptforLesterPapadopoulos’sjuniordriver ’slicense.
Megsang,“I’vegotyourmoney,I’vegotyourmoney.”
Istifledagrowl.“Listen,child,Iwon’tbemortalforever.SomedayIwillbecomeagodagain.
ThenIwillrewardthosewhohelpedme—andpunishthosewhodidn’t.”
Sheputherhandsonherhips.“Howdoyouknowwhatwillhappen?Haveyoueverbeenmortal
before?”
“Yes,actually.Twice!Bothtimes,mypunishmentonlylastedafewyearsatmost!”
“Oh,yeah?Andhowdidyougetbacktobeingallgoddyorwhatever?”
“Goddyisnotaword,”Ipointedout,thoughmypoeticsensibilitieswerealreadythinkingofways
Imightuseit.“UsuallyZeusrequiresmetoworkasaslaveforsomeimportantdemigod.Thisfellow
uptownImentioned,forinstance.He’dbeperfect!Idowhatevertasksmynewmasterrequiresfora
fewyears.AslongasIbehave,IamallowedbacktoOlympus.RightnowIjusthavetorecovermy
strengthandfigureout—”
“Howdoyouknowforsurewhichdemigod?”
Iblinked.“What?”
“Whichdemigodyou’resupposedtoserve,dummy.”
“I…uh.Well,it’susuallyobvious.Ijustsortofrunintothem.That’swhyIwanttogettotheUpper
EastSide.Mynewmasterwillclaimmyserviceand—”
“I’mMegMcCaffrey!”Megblewmearaspberry.“AndIclaimyourservice!”
Overhead,thunderrumbledinthegraysky.Thesoundechoedthroughthecitycanyonslike
divinelaughter.
Whateverwasleftofmyprideturnedtoicewaterandtrickledintomysocks.“Iwalkedrightinto
that,didn’tI?”
“Yep!”Megbouncedupanddowninherredsneakers.“We’regoingtohavefun!”
Withgreatdifficulty,Iresistedtheurgetoweep.“Areyousureyou’renotArtemisindisguise?”
“I’mthatotherthing,”Megsaid,countingmymoney.“Thethingyousaidbefore.Ademigod.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“Justdo.”Shegavemeasmugsmile.“AndnowIhaveasidekickgodnamedLester!”
Iraisedmyfacetotheheavens.“Please,Father,Igetthepoint.Please,Ican’tdothis!”
Zeusdidnotanswer.HewasprobablytoobusyrecordingmyhumiliationtoshareonSnapchat.
“Cheerup,”Megtoldme.“Who’sthatguyyouwantedtosee—theguyontheUpperEastSide?”
“Anotherdemigod,”Isaid.“HeknowsthewaytoacampwhereImightfindshelter,guidance,
food—”
“Food?”Meg’searsperkedupalmostasmuchasthepointsonherglasses.“Goodfood?”
“Well,normallyIjusteatambrosia,but,yes,Isuppose.”
“Thenthat’smyfirstorder!We’regoingtofindthisguytotakeustothecampplace!”
Isighedmiserably.Itwasgoingtobeaverylongservitude.
“Asyouwish,”Isaid.“Let’sfindPercyJackson.”
Usedtobegoddy
Nowuptownfeelingshoddy
Bah,haikudon’trhyme
ASWETRUDGEDupMadisonAvenue,mymindswirledwithquestions:Whyhadn’tZeusgivenme
awintercoat?WhydidPercyJacksonlivesofaruptown?Whydidpedestrianskeepstaringatme?
Iwonderedifmydivineradiancewasstartingtoreturn.PerhapstheNewYorkerswereawedby
myobviouspowerandunearthlygoodlooks.
MegMcCaffreysetmestraight.
“Yousmell,”shesaid.“Youlooklikeyou’vejustbeenmugged.”
“Ihavejustbeenmugged.Alsoenslavedbyasmallchild.”
“It’snotslavery.”Shechewedoffapieceofherthumbcuticleandspititout.“It’smorelike
mutualcooperation.”
“MutualinthesensethatyougiveordersandIamforcedtocooperate?”
“Yep.”Shestoppedinfrontofastorefrontwindow.“See?Youlookgross.”
Myreflectionstaredbackatme,exceptitwasnotmyreflection.Itcouldn’tbe.Thefacewasthe
sameasonLesterPapadopoulos’sID.
Ilookedaboutsixteen.Mymedium-lengthhairwasdarkandcurly—astyleIhadrockedin
Atheniantimes,andagaininthe1970s.Myeyeswereblue.Myfacewaspleasingenoughinadorkish
way,butitwasmarredbyaswolleneggplant-colorednose,whichhaddrippedagruesomemustache
ofblooddownmyupperlip.Evenworse,mycheekswerecoveredwithsomesortofrashthatlooked
suspiciouslylike…Myheartclimbedintomythroat.
“Horrors!”Icried.“Isthat—Isthatacne?”
Immortalgodsdonotgetacne.Itisoneofourinalienablerights.YetIleanedclosertotheglass
andsawthatmyskinwasindeedascarredlandscapeofwhiteheadsandpustules.
Iballedmyfistsandwailedtothecruelsky,“Zeus,whathaveIdonetodeservethis?”
Megtuggedatmysleeve.“You’regoingtogetyourselfarrested.”
“Whatdoesitmatter?Ihavebeenmadeateenager,andnotevenonewithperfectskin!IbetIdon’t
evenhave…”Withacoldsenseofdread,Iliftedmyshirt.Mymidriffwascoveredwithafloral
patternofbruisesfrommyfallintotheDumpsterandmysubsequentkicking.Butevenworse,Ihad
flab.
“Oh,no,no,no.”Istaggeredaroundthesidewalk,hopingtheflabwouldnotfollowme.“Where
aremyeight-packabs?Ialwayshaveeight-packabs.Ineverhavelovehandles.Neverinfour
thousandyears!”
Megmadeanothersnortinglaugh.“Sheesh,crybaby,you’refine.”
“I’mfat!”
“You’reaverage.Averagepeopledon’thaveeight-packabs.C’mon.”
IwantedtoprotestthatIwasnotaveragenoraperson,butwithgrowingdespair,Irealizedthe
termnowfitmeperfectly.
Ontheothersideofthestorefrontwindow,asecurityguard’sfaceloomed,scowlingatme.I
allowedMegtopullmefartherdownthestreet.
Sheskippedalong,occasionallystoppingtopickupacoinorswingherselfaroundastreetlamp.
Thechildseemedunfazedbythecoldweather,thedangerousjourneyahead,andthefactthatIwas
sufferingfromacne.
“Howareyousocalm?”Idemanded.“Youareademigod,walkingwithagod,onyourwaytoa
camptomeetothersofyourkind.Doesn’tanyofthatsurpriseyou?”
“Eh.”Shefoldedoneofmytwenty-dollarbillsintoapaperairplane.“I’veseenabunchofweird
stuff.”
Iwastemptedtoaskwhatcouldbeweirderthanthemorningwehadjusthad.IdecidedImightnot
beabletostandthestressofknowing.“Whereareyoufrom?”
“Itoldyou.Thealley.”
“No,but…yourparents?Family?Friends?”
Arippleofdiscomfortpassedoverherface.Shereturnedherattentiontohertwenty-dollar
airplane.“Notimportant.”
Myhighlyadvancedpeople-readingskillstoldmeshewashidingsomething,butthatwasnot
unusualfordemigods.Forchildrenblessedwithanimmortalparent,theywerestrangelysensitive
abouttheirbackgrounds.“Andyou’veneverheardofCampHalf-Blood?OrCampJupiter?”
“Nuh-uh.”Shetestedtheairplane’spointonherfingertip.“HowmuchfarthertoPerry’shouse?”
“Percy’s.I’mnotsure.Afewmoreblocks…Ithink.”
ThatseemedtosatisfyMeg.Shehopscotchedahead,throwingthecashairplaneandretrievingit.
ShecartwheeledthroughtheintersectionatEastSeventy-SecondStreet—herclothesaflurryof
traffic-lightcolorssobrightIworriedthedriversmightgetconfusedandrunherdown.Fortunately,
NewYorkdriverswereusedtoswervingaroundobliviouspedestrians.
IdecidedMegmustbeaferaldemigod.Theywererarebutnotunheardof.Withoutanysupport
network,withoutbeingdiscoveredbyotherdemigodsortakeninforpropertraining,shehadstill
managedtosurvive.Butherluckwouldnotlast.Monstersusuallybeganhuntingdownandkilling
youngheroesaroundthetimetheyturnedthirteen,whentheirtruepowersbegantomanifest.Megdid
nothavelong.SheneededtobebroughttoCampHalf-BloodasmuchasIdid.Shewasfortunateto
havemetme.
(Iknowthatlaststatementseemsobvious.Everyonewhomeetsmeisfortunate,butyoutakemy
meaning.)
HadIbeenmyusualomniscientself,IcouldhavegleanedMeg’sdestiny.Icouldhavelookedinto
hersoulandseenallIneededtoknowabouthergodlyparentage,herpowers,hermotivesand
secrets.
NowIwasblindtosuchthings.Icouldonlybesureshewasademigodbecauseshehad
successfullyclaimedmyservice.Zeushadaffirmedherrightwithaclapofthunder.Ifeltthebinding
uponmelikeashroudoftightlywrappedbananapeels.WhoeverMegMcCaffreywas,howevershe
hadhappenedtofindme,ourfateswerenowintertwined.
Itwasalmostasembarrassingastheacne.
WeturnedeastonEighty-SecondStreet.
BythetimewereachedSecondAvenue,theneighborhoodstartedtolookfamiliar—rowsof
apartmentbuildings,hardwareshops,conveniencestores,andIndianrestaurants.IknewthatPercy
Jacksonlivedaroundheresomewhere,butmytripsacrosstheskyinthesunchariothadgivenme
somethingofaGoogleEarthorientation.Iwasn’tusedtotravelingatstreetlevel.
Also,inthismortalform,myflawlessmemoryhadbecome…flawed.Mortalfearsandneeds
cloudedmythoughts.Iwantedtoeat.Iwantedtousetherestroom.Mybodyhurt.Myclothesstank.I
feltasifmybrainhadbeenstuffedwithwetcotton.Honestly,howdoyouhumansstandit?
Afterafewmoreblocks,amixtureofsleetandrainbegantofall.Megtriedtocatchthe
precipitationonhertongue,whichIthoughtaveryineffectivewaytogetadrink—andofdirtywater,
noless.Ishiveredandconcentratedonhappythoughts:theBahamas,theNineMusesinperfect
harmony,themanyhorriblepunishmentsIwouldvisitonCadeandMikeywhenIbecameagod
again.
Istillwonderedabouttheirboss,andhowhehadknownwhereIwouldfalltoearth.Nomortal
could’vehadthatknowledge.Infact,themoreIthoughtaboutit,Ididn’tseehowevenagod(other
thanmyself)couldhaveforeseenthefuturesoaccurately.Afterall,Ihadbeenthegodofprophecy,
masteroftheOracleofDelphi,distributorofthehighestqualitysneakpreviewsofdestinyfor
millennia.
Ofcourse,Ihadnoshortageofenemies.Oneofthenaturalconsequencesofbeingsoawesomeis
thatIattractedenvyfromallquarters.ButIcouldonlythinkofoneadversarywhomightbeableto
tellthefuture.Andifhecamelookingformeinmyweakenedstate…
Itampeddownthatthought.Ihadenoughtoworryabout.Nopointscaringmyselftodeathwith
what-ifs.
Webegansearchingsidestreets,checkingnamesonapartmentmailboxesandintercompanels.
TheUpperEastSidehadasurprisingnumberofJacksons.Ifoundthatannoying.
Afterseveralfailedattempts,weturnedacornerandthere—parkedunderacrapemyrtle—satan
oldermodelbluePrius.Itshoodboretheunmistakabledentsofpegasushooves.(HowwasIsure?I
knowmyhoofmarks.Also,normalhorsesdonotgallopoverToyotas.Pegasioftendo.)
“Aha,”ItoldMeg.“We’regettingclose.”
Halfablockdown,Irecognizedthebuilding:afive-storybrickrowhousewithrustyair
conditionerunitssaggingfromthewindows.“Voilà!”Icried.
Atthefrontsteps,Megstoppedasifshe’drunintoaninvisiblebarrier.Shestaredbacktoward
SecondAvenue,herdarkeyesturbulent.
“What’swrong?”Iasked.
“ThoughtIsawthemagain.”
“Them?”Ifollowedhergazebutsawnothingunusual.“Thethugsfromthealley?”
“No.Coupleof…”Shewaggledherfingers.“Shinyblobs.SawthembackonParkAvenue.”
Mypulseincreasedfromanandantetempotoalivelyallegretto.“Shinyblobs?Whydidn’tyou
sayanything?”
Shetappedthetemplesofherglasses.“I’veseenalotofweirdstuff.Toldyouthat.Mostly,things
don’tbotherme,but…”
“Butiftheyarefollowingus,”Isaid,“thatwouldbebad.”
Iscannedthestreetagain.Isawnothingamiss,butIdidn’tdoubtMeghadseenshinyblobs.Many
spiritscouldappearthatway.Myownfather,Zeus,oncetooktheformofashinyblobtowooa
mortalwoman.(Whythemortalwomanfoundthatattractive,Ihavenoidea.)
“Weshouldgetinside,”Isaid.“PercyJacksonwillhelpus.”
Still,Megheldback.Shehadshownnofearwhilepeltingmuggerswithgarbageinablindalley,
butnowsheseemedtobehavingsecondthoughtsaboutringingadoorbell.Itoccurredtomeshe
mighthavemetdemigodsbefore.Perhapsthosemeetingshadnotgonewell.
“Meg,”Isaid,“Irealizesomedemigodsarenotgood.IcouldtellyoustoriesofalltheonesI’ve
hadtokillortransformintoherbs—”
“Herbs?”
“ButPercyJacksonhasalwaysbeenreliable.Youhavenothingtofear.Besides,helikesme.I
taughthimeverythingheknows.”
Shefrowned.“Youdid?”
Ifoundherinnocencesomewhatcharming.Somanyobviousthingsshedidnotknow.“Ofcourse.
Nowlet’sgoup.”
Irangthebuzzer.Afewmomentslater,thegarbledvoiceofawomananswered,“Yes?”
“Hello,”Isaid.“ThisisApollo.”
Static.
“ThegodApollo,”Isaid,thinkingperhapsIshouldbemorespecific.“IsPercyhome?”
Morestatic,followedbytwovoicesinmutedconversation.Thefrontdoorbuzzed.Ipushedit
open.JustbeforeIsteppedinside,Icaughtaflashofmovementinthecornerofmyeye.Ipeered
downthesidewalkbutagainsawnothing.
Perhapsithadbeenareflection.Orawhirlofsleet.Orperhapsithadbeenashinyblob.Myscalp
tingledwithapprehension.
“What?”Megasked.
“Probablynothing.”Iforcedacheerfultone.IdidnotwantMegboltingoffwhenwewereso
closetoreachingsafety.Wewereboundtogethernow.Iwouldhavetofollowherifsheorderedme
to,andIdidnotfancylivinginthealleywithherforever.“Let’sgoup.Wecan’tkeepourhosts
waiting.”
AfterallIhaddoneforPercyJackson,Iexpecteddelightuponmyarrival.Atearfulwelcome,afew
burntofferings,andasmallfestivalinmyhonorwouldnothavebeeninappropriate.
Instead,theyoungmanswungopentheapartmentdoorandsaid,“Why?”
Asusual,Iwasstruckbyhisresemblancetohisfather,Poseidon.Hehadthesamesea-greeneyes,
thesamedarktousledhair,thesamehandsomefeaturesthatcouldshiftfromhumortoangerso
easily.However,PercyJacksondidnotfavorhisfather ’schosengarbofbeachshortsandHawaiian
shirts.HewasdressedinraggedjeansandabluehoodiewiththewordsAHSSWIMTEAM stitched
acrossthefront.
Meginchedbackintothehallway,hidingbehindme.
Itriedforasmile.“PercyJackson,myblessingsuponyou!Iaminneedofassistance.”
Percy’seyesdartedfrommetoMeg.“Who’syourfriend?”
“ThisisMegMcCaffrey,”Isaid,“ademigodwhomustbetakentoCampHalf-Blood.Sherescued
mefromstreetthugs.”
“Rescued…”Percyscannedmybatteredface.“Youmeanthe‘beat-upteenager ’lookisn’tjusta
disguise?Dude,whathappenedtoyou?”
“Imayhavementionedthestreetthugs.”
“Butyou’reagod.”
“Aboutthat…Iwasagod.”
Percyblinked.“Was?”
“Also,”Isaid,“I’mfairlycertainwe’rebeingfollowedbymaliciousspirits.”
IfIdidn’tknowhowmuchPercyJacksonadoredme,Iwouldhaveswornhewasabouttopunch
meinmyalready-brokennose.
Hesighed.“Maybeyoutwoshouldcomeinside.”
CasadeJackson
Nogold-platedthroneforguests
Seriously,dude?
ANOTHERTHINGIhaveneverunderstood:Howcanyoumortalsliveinsuchtinyplaces?Where
isyourpride?Yoursenseofstyle?
TheJacksonapartmenthadnograndthroneroom,nocolonnades,noterracesorbanquethallsor
evenathermalbath.Ithadatinylivingroomwithanattachedkitchenandasinglehallwayleadingto
whatIassumedwerethebedrooms.Theplacewasonthefifthfloor,andwhileIwasn’tsopickyasto
expectanelevator,Ididfinditoddtherewasnolandingdeckforflyingchariots.Whatdidtheydo
whenguestsfromtheskywantedtovisit?
Standingbehindthekitchencounter,makingasmoothie,wasastrikinglyattractivemortalwoman
ofaboutforty.Herlongbrownhairhadafewgraystreaks,butherbrighteyes,quicksmile,and
festivetie-dyedsundressmadeherlookyounger.
Asweentered,sheturnedofftheblenderandsteppedoutfrombehindthecounter.
“SacredSibyl!”Icried.“Madam,thereissomethingwrongwithyourmidsection!”
Thewomanstopped,mystified,andlookeddownatherhugelyswollenbelly.“Well,I’mseven
monthspregnant.”
Iwantedtocryforher.Carryingsuchaweightdidn’tseemnatural.Mysister,Artemis,had
experiencewithmidwifery,butIhadalwaysfounditoneareaofthehealingartsbestlefttoothers.
“Howcanyoubearit?”Iasked.“Mymother,Leto,sufferedthroughalongpregnancy,butonly
becauseHeracursedher.Areyoucursed?”
Percysteppedtomyside.“Um,Apollo?She’snotcursed.AndcanyounotmentionHera?”
“Youpoorwoman.”Ishookmyhead.“Agoddesswouldneverallowherselftobesoencumbered.
Shewouldgivebirthassoonasshefeltlikeit.”
“Thatmustbenice,”thewomanagreed.
PercyJacksoncoughed.“Soanyway.Mom,thisisApolloandhisfriendMeg.Guys,thisismy
mom.”
TheMotherofJacksonsmiledandshookourhands.“CallmeSally.”
Hereyesnarrowedasshestudiedmybustednose.“Dear,thatlookspainful.Whathappened?”
Iattemptedtoexplain,butIchokedonmywords.I,thesilver-tonguedgodofpoetry,couldnot
bringmyselftodescribemyfallfromgracetothiskindwoman.
IunderstoodwhyPoseidonhadbeensosmittenwithher.SallyJacksonpossessedjusttheright
combinationofcompassion,strength,andbeauty.Shewasoneofthoseraremortalwomenwho
couldconnectspirituallywithagodasanequal—tobeneitherterrifiedofusnorgreedyforwhatwe
canoffer,buttoprovideuswithtruecompanionship.
IfIhadstillbeenanimmortal,Imighthaveflirtedwithhermyself.ButIwasnowasixteen-yearoldboy.Mymortalformwasworkingitswayuponmystateofmind.IsawSallyJacksonasamom
—afactthatbothconsternatedandembarrassedme.IthoughtabouthowlongithadbeensinceIhad
calledmyownmother.IshouldprobablytakehertolunchwhenIgotbacktoOlympus.
“Itellyouwhat.”Sallypattedmyshoulder.“Percycanhelpyougetbandagedandcleanedup.”
“Ican?”askedPercy.
Sallygavehimtheslightestmotherlyeyebrowraise.“There’safirst-aidkitinyourbathroom,
sweetheart.Apollocantakeashower,thenwearyourextraclothes.Youtwoareaboutthesamesize.”
“That,”Percysaid,“istrulydepressing.”
SallycuppedherhandunderMeg’schin.Thankfully,Megdidnotbiteher.Sally’sexpression
remainedgentleandreassuring,butIcouldseetheworryinhereyes.Nodoubtshewasthinking,
Whodressedthispoorgirllikeatrafficlight?
“Ihavesomeclothesthatmightfityou,dear,”Sallysaid.“Pre-pregnancyclothes,ofcourse.Let’s
getyoucleanedup.Thenwe’llgetyousomethingtoeat.”
“Ilikefood,”Megmuttered.
Sallylaughed.“Well,wehavethatincommon.Percy,youtakeApollo.We’llmeetyoubackhere
inawhile.”
Inshortorder,Iwasshowered,bandaged,anddressedinJacksonesquehand-me-downs.Percyleftme
aloneinthebathroomtotakecareofallthismyself,forwhichIwasgrateful.Heofferedmesome
ambrosiaandnectar—foodanddrinkofthegods—tohealmywounds,butIwasnotsureitwouldbe
safetoconsumeinmymortalstate.Ididn’twanttoself-combust,soIstuckwithmortalfirst-aid
supplies.
WhenIwasdone,Istaredatmybatteredfaceinthebathroommirror.Perhapsteenageangsthad
permeatedtheclothes,becauseIfeltmorelikeasulkyhighschoolerthanever.Ithoughthowunfairit
wasthatIwasbeingpunished,howlamemyfatherwas,hownooneelseinthehistoryoftimehad
everexperiencedproblemslikemine.
Ofcourse,allthatwasempiricallytrue.Noexaggerationwasrequired.
Atleastmywoundsseemedtobehealingatafasterratethananormalmortal’s.Theswellingin
mynosehadsubsided.Myribsstillached,butInolongerfeltasifsomeonewereknittingasweater
insidemychestwithhotneedles.
AcceleratedhealingwastheleastZeuscoulddoforme.Iwasagodofmedicinalarts,afterall.
ZeusprobablyjustwantedmetogetwellquicklysoIcouldenduremorepain,butIwasgrateful
nonetheless.
IwonderedifIshouldstartasmallfireinPercyJackson’ssink,perhapsburnsomebandagesin
thanks,butIdecidedthatmightstraintheJacksons’hospitality.
IexaminedtheblackT-shirtPercyhadgivenme.EmblazonedonthefrontwasLedZeppelin’s
logofortheirrecordlabel:wingedIcarusfallingfromthesky.IhadnoproblemwithLedZeppelin.I
hadinspiredalltheirbestsongs.ButIhadasneakingsuspicionthatPercyhadgivenmethisshirtasa
joke—thefallfromthesky.Yes,ha-ha.Ididn’tneedtobeagodofpoetrytospotthemetaphor.I
decidednottocommentonit.Iwouldn’tgivehimthesatisfaction.
Itookadeepbreath.ThenIdidmyusualmotivationalspeechinthemirror:“Youaregorgeous
andpeopleloveyou!”
Iwentouttofacetheworld.
Percywassittingonhisbed,staringatthetrailofblooddropletsIhadmadeacrosshiscarpet.
“Sorryaboutthat,”Isaid.
Percyspreadhishands.“Actually,IwasthinkingaboutthelasttimeIhadanosebleed.”
“Oh…”
Thememorycamebacktome,thoughhazyandincomplete.Athens.TheAcropolis.Wegodshad
battledsidebysidewithPercyJacksonandhiscomrades.Wedefeatedanarmyofgiants,butadrop
ofPercy’sbloodhittheearthandawakenedtheEarthMotherGaea,whohadnotbeeninagood
mood.
That’swhenZeusturnedonme.He’daccusedmeofstartingthewholething,justbecauseGaea
haddupedoneofmyprogeny,aboynamedOctavian,intoplungingtheRomanandGreekdemigod
campsintoacivilwarthatalmostdestroyedhumancivilization.Iaskyou:Howwasthatmyfault?
Regardless,ZeushadheldmeresponsibleforOctavian’sdelusionsofgrandeur.Zeusseemedto
consideregotismatraittheboyhadinheritedfromme.Whichisridiculous.Iammuchtooselfawaretobeegotistical.
“Whathappenedtoyou,man?”Percy’svoicestirredmefrommyreverie.“Thewarendedin
August.It’sJanuary.”
“Itis?”Isupposethewintryweathershouldhavebeenaclue,butIhadn’tgivenitmuchthought.
“LastIsawyou,”Percysaid,“ZeuswaschewingyououtattheAcropolis.Thenbam—he
vaporizedyou.Nobody’sseenorheardfromyouforsixmonths.”
Itriedtorecall,butmymemoriesofgodhoodweregettingfuzzierratherthanclearer.Whathad
happenedinthelastsixmonths?HadIbeeninsomekindofstasis?HadZeustakenthatlongtodecide
whattodowithme?Perhapstherewasareasonhe’dwaiteduntilthismomenttohurlmetoearth.
Father ’svoicestillranginmyears:Yourfault.Yourpunishment.Myshamefeltfreshandraw,as
iftheconversationhadjusthappened,butIcouldnotbesure.
Afterbeingaliveforsomanymillennia,Ihadtroublekeepingtrackoftimeeveninthebestof
circumstances.IwouldhearasongonSpotifyandthink,“Oh,that’snew!”ThenI’drealizeitwas
Mozart’sPianoConcertono.20inDMinorfromtwohundredyearsago.OrI’dwonderwhy
Herodotusthehistorianwasn’tinmycontactslist.ThenI’drememberHerodotusdidn’thavea
smartphone,becausehehadbeendeadsincetheIronAge.
It’sveryirritatinghowquicklyyoumortalsdie.
“I—Idon’tknowwhereI’vebeen,”Iadmitted.“Ihavesomememorygaps.”
Percywinced.“Ihatememorygaps.LastyearIlostanentiresemesterthankstoHera.”
“Ah,yes.”Icouldn’tquiterememberwhatPercyJacksonwastalkingabout.Duringthewarwith
Gaea,Ihadbeenfocusedmostlyonmyownfabulousexploits.ButIsupposeheandhisfriendshad
undergoneafewminorhardships.
“Well,neverfear,”Isaid.“Therearealwaysnewopportunitiestowinfame!That’swhyI’vecome
toyouforhelp!”
Hegavemethatconfusingexpressionagain:asifhewantedtokickme,whenIwassurehemust
bestrugglingtocontainhisgratitude.
“Look,man—”
“Wouldyoupleaserefrainfromcallingmeman?”Iasked.“ItisapainfulreminderthatIama
man.”
“Okay…Apollo,I’mfinewithdrivingyouandMegtocampifthat’swhatyouwant.Ineverturn
awayademigodwhoneedshelp—”
“Wonderful!DoyouhavesomethingbesidesthePrius?AMaserati,perhaps?I’dsettlefora
Lamborghini.”
“But,”Percycontinued,“Ican’tgetinvolvedinanotherBigProphecyorwhatever.I’vemade
promises.”
Istaredathim,notquitecomprehending.“Promises?”
Percylacedhisfingers.Theywerelongandnimble.Hewouldhavemadeanexcellentmusician.
“IlostmostofmyjunioryearbecauseofthewarwithGaea.I’vespentthisentirefallplayingcatchupwithmyclasses.IfIwanttogotocollegewithAnnabethnextfall,Ihavetostayoutoftroubleand
getmydiploma.”
“Annabeth.”Itriedtoplacethename.“She’stheblondscaryone?”
“That’sher.IpromisedherspecificallythatIwouldn’tgetmyselfkilledwhileshe’sgone.”
“Gone?”
Percywavedvaguelytowardthenorth.“She’sinBostonforafewweeks.Somefamily
emergency.Thepointis—”
“You’resayingyoucannotoffermeyourundividedservicetorestoremetomythrone?”
“Um…yeah.”Hepointedatthebedroomdoorway.“Besides,mymom’spregnant.I’mgoingto
haveababysister.I’dliketobearoundtogettoknowher.”
“Well,Iunderstandthat.IrememberwhenArtemiswasborn—”
“Aren’tyoutwins?”
“I’vealwaysregardedherasmylittlesister.”
Percy’smouthtwitched.“Anyway,mymom’sgotthatgoingon,andherfirstnovelisgoingtobe
publishedthisspringaswell,soI’dliketostayalivelongenoughto—”
“Wonderful!”Isaid.“Remindhertoburnthepropersacrifices.Calliopeisquitetouchywhen
novelistsforgettothankher.”
“Okay.ButwhatI’msaying…Ican’tgooffonanotherworld-stompingquest.Ican’tdothattomy
family.”
Percyglancedtowardhiswindow.Onthesillwasapottedplantwithdelicatesilverleaves—
possiblymoonlace.“I’vealreadygivenmymomenoughheartattacksforonelifetime.She’sjust
aboutforgivenmefordisappearinglastyear,butIsworetoherandPaulthatIwouldn’tdoanything
likethatagain.”
“Paul?”
“Mystepdad.He’satateacherin-servicetoday.He’sagoodguy.”
“Isee.”Intruth,Ididn’tsee.Iwantedtogetbacktotalkingaboutmyproblems.Iwasimpatient
withPercyforturningtheconversationtohimself.Sadly,Ihavefoundthissortofself-centeredness
commonamongdemigods.
“YoudounderstandthatImustfindawaytoreturntoOlympus,”Isaid.“Thiswillprobably
involvemanyharrowingtrialswithahighchanceofdeath.Canyouturndownsuchglory?”
“Yeah,I’mprettysureIcan.Sorry.”
Ipursedmylips.Italwaysdisappointedmewhenmortalsputthemselvesfirstandfailedtoseethe
bigpicture—theimportanceofputtingmefirst—butIhadtoremindmyselfthatthisyoungmanhad
helpedmeoutonmanypreviousoccasions.Hehadearnedmygoodwill.
“Iunderstand,”Isaidwithincrediblegenerosity.“YouwillatleastescortustoCampHalfBlood?”
“ThatIcando.”Percyreachedintohishoodiepocketandpulledoutaballpointpen.Fora
momentIthoughthewantedmyautograph.Ican’ttellyouhowoftenthathappens.ThenI
rememberedthepenwasthedisguisedformofhissword,Riptide.
Hesmiled,andsomeofthatolddemigodmischieftwinkledinhiseyes.“Let’sseeifMeg’sready
forafieldtrip.”
Seven-layerdip
Chocolatechipcookiesinblue
Ilovethiswoman
SALLYJACKSONwasawitchtorivalCirce.ShehadtransformedMegfromastreeturchinintoa
shockinglyprettyyounggirl.Meg’sdarkpageboyhairwasglossyandbrushed.Herroundfacewas
scrubbedcleanofgrime.Hercat-eyeglasseshadbeenpolishedsotherhinestonessparkled.Shehad
evidentlyinsistedonkeepingheroldredsneakers,butsheworenewblackleggingsandakneelengthfrockofshiftinggreenhues.
Mrs.JacksonhadfiguredouthowtokeepMeg’soldlookbuttweakittobemorecomplementary.
Megnowhadanelfishspringtimeaurathatremindedmeverymuchofadryad.Infact…
Asuddenwaveofemotionoverwhelmedme.Ichokedbackasob.
Megpouted.“DoIlookthatbad?”
“No,no,”Imanaged.“It’sjust…”
Iwantedtosay:Youremindmeofsomeone.ButIdidn’tdareopenthatlineofconversation.Only
twomortalseverhadbrokenmyheart.Evenaftersomanycenturies,Icouldn’tthinkofher,couldn’t
sayhernamewithoutfallingintodespair.
Don’tmisunderstandme.IfeltnoattractiontoMeg.Iwassixteen(orfourthousandplus,
dependingonhowyoulookedatit).Shewasaveryyoungtwelve.Butthewaysheappearednow,
MegMcCaffreymighthavebeenthedaughterofmyformerlove…ifmyformerlovehadlivedlong
enoughtohavechildren.
Itwastoopainful.Ilookedaway.
“Well,”SallyJacksonsaidwithforcedcheerfulness,“howaboutImakesomelunchwhileyou
three…talk.”
ShegavePercyaworriedglance,thenheadedtothekitchen,herhandsprotectivelyoverher
pregnantbelly.
Megsatontheedgeofthesofa.“Percy,yourmomissonormal.”
“Thanks,Iguess.”Hepickedupastackoftestpreparationmanualsfromthecoffeetableand
chuckedthemaside.
“Iseeyouliketostudy,”Isaid.“Welldone.”
Percysnorted.“Ihatetostudy.I’vebeenguaranteedadmissionwithafullscholarshiptoNew
RomeUniversity,butthey’restillrequiringmetopassallmyhighschoolcoursesandscorewellon
theSAT.Canyoubelievethat?NottomentionIhavetopasstheDSTOMP.”
“Thewhat?”Megasked.
“AnexamforRomandemigods,”Itoldher.“TheDemigodStandardTestofMadPowers.”
Percyfrowned.“That’swhatitstandsfor?”
“Ishouldknow.Iwrotethemusicandpoetryanalysissections.”
“Iwillneverforgiveyouforthat,”Percysaid.
Megswungherfeet.“Soyou’rereallyademigod?Likeme?”
“Afraidso.”Percysankintothearmchair,leavingmetotakethesofanexttoMeg.“Mydadisthe
godlyone—Poseidon.Whataboutyourparents?”
Meg’slegswentstill.Shestudiedherchewedcuticles,thematchingcrescentringsglintingonher
middlefingers.“Neverknewthem…much.”
Percyhesitated.“Fosterhome?Stepparents?”
Ithoughtofacertainplant,theMimosapudica,whichthegodPancreated.Assoonasitsleaves
aretouched,theplantclosesupdefensively.Megseemedtobeplayingmimosa,foldinginwardunder
Percy’squestions.
Percyraisedhishands.“Sorry.Didn’tmeantopry.”Hegavemeaninquisitivelook.“Sohowdid
youguysmeet?”
Itoldhimthestory.ImayhaveexaggeratedmybravedefenseagainstCadeandMikey—justfor
narrativeeffect,youunderstand.
AsIfinished,SallyJacksonreturned.Shesetdownabowloftortillachipsandacasseroledish
filledwithelaboratedipinmulticoloredstrata,likesedimentaryrock.
“I’llbebackwiththesandwiches,”shesaid.“ButIhadsomeleftoverseven-layerdip.”
“Yum.”Percyduginwithatortillachip.“She’skindafamousforthis,guys.”
Sallyruffledhishair.“There’sguacamole,sourcream,refriedbeans,salsa—”
“Sevenlayers?”Ilookedupinwonder.“Youknewsevenismysacrednumber?Youinventedthis
forme?”
Sallywipedherhandsonherapron.“Well,actually,Ican’ttakecredit—”
“Youaretoomodest!”Itriedsomeofthedip.Ittastedalmostasgoodasambrosianachos.“You
willhaveimmortalfameforthis,SallyJackson!”
“That’ssweet.”Shepointedtothekitchen.“I’llberightback.”
Soonwewereplowingthroughturkeysandwiches,chipsanddip,andbananasmoothies.Megate
likeachipmunk,shovingmorefoodinhermouththanshecouldpossiblychew.Mybellywasfull.I
hadneverbeensohappy.IhadastrangedesiretofireupanXboxandplayCallofDuty.
“Percy,”Isaid,“yourmomisawesome.”
“Iknow,right?”Hefinishedhissmoothie.“Sobacktoyourstory…youhavetobeMeg’sservant
now?Youguysbarelyknoweachother.”
“Barelyisgenerous,”Isaid.“Nevertheless,yes.MyfateisnowlinkedwithyoungMcCaffrey.”
“Wearecooperating,”Megsaid.Sheseemedtosavorthatword.
Fromhispocket,Percyfishedhisballpointpen.Hetappeditthoughtfullyagainsthisknee.“And
thiswholeturning-into-a-mortalthing…you’vedoneittwicebefore?”
“Notbychoice,”Iassuredhim.“Thefirsttime,wehadalittlerebellioninOlympus.Wetriedto
overthrowZeus.”
Percywinced.“I’mguessingthatdidn’tgowell.”
“Igotmostoftheblame,naturally.Oh,andyourfather,Poseidon.Wewerebothcastdownto
earthasmortals,forcedtoserveLaomedon,thekingofTroy.Hewasaharshmaster.Heevenrefused
topayusforourwork!”
Megnearlychokedonhersandwich.“Ihavetopayyou?”
IhadaterrifyingimageofMegMcCaffreytryingtopaymeinbottlecaps,marbles,andpiecesof
coloredstring.
“Neverfear,”Itoldher.“Iwon’tbepresentingyouwithabill.ButasIwassaying,thesecondtime
Ibecamemortal,ZeusgotmadbecauseIkilledsomeofhisCyclopes.”
Percyfrowned.“Dude,notcool.MybrotherisaCyclops.”
“ThesewerewickedCyclopes!Theymadethelightningboltthatkilledoneofmysons!”
Megbouncedonthearmofthesofa.“Percy’sbrotherisaCyclops?That’scrazy!”
Itookadeepbreath,tryingtofindmyhappyplace.“Atanyrate,IwasboundtoAdmetus,theking
ofThessaly.Hewasakindmaster.Ilikedhimsomuch,Imadeallhiscowshavetwincalves.”
“CanIhavebabycows?”Megasked.
“Well,Meg,”Isaid,“firstyouwouldhavetohavesomemommycows.Yousee—”
“Guys,”Percyinterrupted.“So,justtorecap,youhavetobeMeg’sservantfor…?”
“Someunknownamountoftime,”Isaid.“Probablyayear.Possiblymore.”
“Andduringthattime—”
“Iwillundoubtedlyfacemanytrialsandhardships.”
“Likegettingmemycows,”Megsaid.
Igrittedmyteeth.“Whatthosetrialswillbe,Idonotyetknow.ButifIsufferthroughthemand
proveIamworthy,Zeuswillforgivemeandallowmetobecomeagodagain.”
Percydidnotlookconvinced—probablybecauseIdidnotsoundconvincing.Ihadtobelievemy
mortalpunishmentwastemporary,asithadbeenthelasttwotimes.YetZeushadcreatedastrictrule
forbaseballandprisonsentences:Threestrikes,you’reout.Icouldonlyhopethiswouldnotapplyto
me.
“Ineedtimetogetmybearings,”Isaid.“OncewegettoCampHalf-Blood,Icanconsultwith
Chiron.Icanfigureoutwhichofmygodlypowersremainwithmeinthismortalform.”
“Ifany,”Percysaid.
“Let’sthinkpositive.”
Percysatbackinhisarmchair.“Anyideawhatkindofspiritsarefollowingyou?”
“Shinyblobs,”Megsaid.“Theywereshinyandsortof…blobby.”
Percynoddedgravely.“Thosearetheworstkind.”
“Ithardlymatters,”Isaid.“Whatevertheyare,wehavetoflee.Oncewereachcamp,themagical
borderswillprotectme.”
“Andme?”Megasked.
“Oh,yes.You,too.”
Percyfrowned.“Apollo,ifyou’rereallymortal,like,onehundredpercentmortal,canyoueven
getintoCampHalf-Blood?”
Theseven-layerdipbegantochurninmystomach.“Pleasedon’tsaythat.OfcourseI’llgetin.I
haveto.”
“Butyoucouldgethurtinbattlenow…”Percymused.“Thenagain,maybemonsterswould
ignoreyoubecauseyou’renotimportant?”
“Stop!”Myhandstrembled.Beingamortalwastraumaticenough.Thethoughtofbeingbarred
fromcamp,ofbeingunimportant…No.Thatsimplycouldnotbe.
“I’msureI’veretainedsomepowers,”Isaid.“I’mstillgorgeous,forinstance,ifIcouldjustget
ridofthisacneandlosesomeflab.Imusthaveotherabilities!”
PercyturnedtoMeg.“Whataboutyou?Ihearyouthrowameangarbagebag.Anyotherskillswe
shouldknowabout?Summoninglightning?Makingtoiletsexplode?”
Megsmiledhesitantly.“That’snotapower.”
“Sureitis,”Percysaid.“Someofthebestdemigodshavegottentheirstartbyblowinguptoilets.”
Meggiggled.
IdidnotlikethewayshewasgrinningatPercy.Ididn’twantthegirltodevelopacrush.Wemight
nevergetoutofhere.AsmuchasIenjoyedSallyJackson’scooking—thedivinesmellofbaking
cookieswasevennowwaftingfromthekitchen—Ineededtomakehastetocamp.
“Ahem.”Irubbedmyhands.“Howsooncanweleave?”
Percyglancedatthewallclock.“Rightnow,Iguess.Ifyou’rebeingfollowed,I’dratherhave
monstersonourtrailthansniffingaroundtheapartment.”
“Goodman,”Isaid.
Percygesturedwithdistasteathistestmanuals.“Ijusthavetobebacktonight.Gotalotof
studying.ThefirsttwotimesItooktheSAT—ugh.Ifitwasn’tforAnnabethhelpingmeout—”
“Who’sthat?”Megasked.
“Mygirlfriend.”
Megfrowned.Iwasgladtherewerenogarbagebagsnearbyforhertothrow.
“Sotakeabreak!”Iurged.“YourbrainwillberefreshedafteraneasydrivetoLongIsland.”
“Huh,”Percysaid.“There’salazykindoflogictothat.Okay.Let’sdoit.”
HerosejustasSallyJacksonwalkedinwithaplateoffresh-bakedchocolatechipcookies.For
somereason,thecookieswereblue,buttheysmelledheavenly—andIshouldknow.I’mfromheaven.
“Mom,don’tfreak,”Percysaid.
Sallysighed.“Ihateitwhenyousaythat.”
“I’mjustgoingtotakethesetwotocamp.That’sall.I’llberightback.”
“IthinkI’veheardthatbefore.”
“Ipromise.”
Sallylookedatme,thenMeg.Herexpressionsoftened,herinnatekindnessperhapsoverweighing
herconcern.“Allright.Becareful.Itwaslovelymeetingyouboth.Pleasetrynottodie.”
Percykissedheronthecheek.Hereachedforthecookies,butshemovedtheplateaway.
“Oh,no,”shesaid.“ApolloandMegcanhaveone,butI’mkeepingtheresthostageuntilyou’re
backsafely.Andhurry,dear.ItwouldbeashameifPaulatethemallwhenhegetshome.”
Percy’sexpressionturnedgrim.Hefacedus.“Youhearthat,guys?Abatchofcookiesis
dependingonme.Ifyougetmekilledonthewaytocamp,Iamgoingbetickedoff.”
Aquamandriving
Couldn’tpossiblybeworse
Oh,wait,nowitis
MUCHTOMYDISAPPOINTMENT,theJacksonsdidnothaveaspareboworquivertolendme.
“Isuckatarchery,”Percyexplained.
“Yes,butIdon’t,”Isaid.“Thisiswhyyoushouldalwaysplanformyneeds.”
SallylentMegandmesomeproperwinterfleecejackets,however.Minewasblue,withtheword
BLOFISwritteninsidetheneckline.Perhapsthatwasanarcanewardagainstevilspirits.Hecatewould
haveknown.Sorceryreallywasn’tmything.
OncewereachedthePrius,Megcalledshotgun,whichwasyetanotherexampleofmyunfair
existence.Godsdonotrideintheback.IagainsuggestedfollowingtheminaMaseratiora
Lamborghini,butPercyadmittedhehadneither.ThePriuswastheonlycarhisfamilyowned.
Imean…wow.Justwow.
Sittinginthebackseat,Iquicklybecamecarsick.Iwasusedtodrivingmysunchariotacrossthe
sky,whereeverylanewasthefastlane.IwasnotusedtotheLongIslandExpressway.Believeme,
evenatmiddayinthemiddleofJanuary,thereisnothingexpressaboutyourexpressways.
Percybrakedandlurchedforward.IsorelywishedIcouldlaunchafireballinfrontofusandmelt
carstomakewayforourclearlymoreimportantjourney.
“Doesn’tyourPriushaveflamethrowers?”Idemanded.“Lasers?AtleastsomeHephaestian
bumperblades?Whatsortofcheapeconomyvehicleisthis?”
Percyglancedintherearviewmirror.“YouhaverideslikethatonMountOlympus?”
“Wedon’thavetrafficjams,”Isaid.“That,Icanpromiseyou.”
Megtuggedathercrescentmoonrings.AgainIwonderedifshehadsomeconnectiontoArtemis.
Themoonwasmysister ’ssymbol.PerhapsArtemishadsentMegtolookafterme?
Yetthatdidn’tseemright.Artemishadtroublesharinganythingwithme—demigods,arrows,
nations,birthdayparties.It’satwinthing.Also,MegMcCaffreydidnotstrikemeasoneofmy
sister ’sfollowers.Meghadanothersortofaura…oneIwouldhavebeenabletorecognizeeasilyifI
wereagod.But,no.Ihadtorelyonmortalintuition,whichwasliketryingtopickupsewingneedles
whilewearingovenmitts.
Megturnedandgazedouttherearwindshield,probablycheckingforanyshinyblobspursuingus.
“Atleastwe’renotbeing—”
“Don’tsayit,”Percywarned.
Meghuffed.“Youdon’tknowwhatIwasgoingto—”
“Youweregoingtosay,‘Atleastwe’renotbeingfollowed,’”Percysaid.“That’lljinxus.
Immediatelywe’llnoticethatwearebeingfollowed.Thenwe’llendupinabigbattlethattotalsmy
familycarandprobablydestroysthewholefreeway.Thenwe’llhavetorunallthewaytocamp.”
Meg’seyeswidened.“Youcantellthefuture?”
“Don’tneedto.”Percychangedlanestoonethatwascrawlingslightlylessslowly.“I’vejustdone
thisalot.Besides”—heshotmeanaccusinglook—“nobodycantellthefutureanymore.TheOracle
isn’tworking.”
“WhatOracle?”Megasked.
Neitherofusanswered.Foramoment,Iwastoostunnedtospeak.Andbelieveme,Ihavetobe
verystunnedforthattohappen.
“Itstillisn’tworking?”Isaidinasmallvoice.
“Youdidn’tknow?”Percyasked.“Imean,sure,you’vebeenoutofitforsixmonths,butthis
happenedonyourwatch.”
Thatwasunjust.IhadbeenbusyhidingfromZeus’swrathatthetime,whichwasaperfectly
legitimateexcuse.HowwasItoknowthatGaeawouldtakeadvantageofthechaosofwarandraise
myoldest,greatestenemyfromthedepthsofTartarussohecouldtakepossessionofhisoldlairin
thecaveofDelphiandcutoffthesourceofmypropheticpower?
Oh,yes,Ihearyoucriticsoutthere:You’rethegodofprophecy,Apollo.Howcouldyounotknow
thatwouldhappen?
ThenextsoundyouhearwillbemeblowingyouagiantMeg-McCaffrey-qualityraspberry.
Iswallowedbackthetasteoffearandseven-layerdip.“Ijust…Iassumed—Ihopedthiswouldbe
takencareofbynow.”
“Youmeanbydemigods,”Percysaid,“goingonabigquesttoreclaimtheOracleofDelphi?”
“Exactly!”IknewPercywouldunderstand.“IsupposeChironjustforgot.I’llremindhimwhen
wegettocamp,andhecandispatchsomeofyoutalentedfodder—Imeanheroes—”
“Well,here’sthething,”Percysaid.“Togoonaquest,weneedaprophecy,right?Thosearethe
rules.Ifthere’snoOracle,therearenoprophecies,sowe’restuckina—”
“ACatch-88.”Isighed.
Megthrewapieceoflintatme.“It’saCatch-22.”
“No,”Iexplainedpatiently.“ThisisaCatch-88,whichisfourtimesasbad.”
IfeltasifIwerefloatinginawarmbathandsomeonehadpulledoutthestopper.Thewater
swirledaroundme,tuggingmedownward.SoonIwouldbeleftshiveringandexposed,orelseI
wouldbesuckeddownthedrainintothesewersofhopelessness.(Don’tlaugh.That’saperfectlyfine
metaphor.Also,whenyou’reagod,youcangetsuckeddownadrainquiteeasily—ifyou’recaught
offguardandrelaxed,andyouhappentochangeformatthewrongmoment.OnceIwokeupina
sewagetreatmentfacilityinBiloxi,butthat’sanotherstory.)
Iwasbeginningtoseewhatwasinstoreformeduringmymortalsojourn.TheOraclewasheld
byhostileforces.Myadversarylaycoiledandwaiting,growingstrongereverydayonthemagical
fumesoftheDelphiccaverns.AndIwasaweakmortalboundtoanuntraineddemigodwhothrew
garbageandchewedhercuticles.
No.Zeuscouldnotpossiblyexpectmetofixthis.Notinmypresentcondition.
Andyet…someonehadsentthosethugstointerceptmeinthealley.SomeonehadknownwhereI
wouldland.
Nobodycantellthefutureanymore,Percyhadsaid.
Butthatwasn’tquitetrue.
“Hey,youtwo.”Meghitusbothwithpiecesoflint.Wherewasshefindingthislint?
IrealizedI’dbeenignoringher.Ithadfeltgoodwhileitlasted.
“Yes,sorry,Meg,”Isaid.“Yousee,theOracleofDelphiisanancient—”
“Idon’tcareaboutthat,”shesaid.“Therearethreeshinyblobsnow.”
“What?”Percyasked.
Shepointedbehindus.“Look.”
Weavingthroughthetraffic,closinginonusrapidly,werethreeglittery,vaguelyhumanoid
apparitions—likebillowingplumesfromsmokegrenadestouchedbyKingMidas.
“JustonceI’dlikeaneasycommute,”Percygrumbled.“Everybody,holdon.We’regoingcrosscountry.”
Percy’sdefinitionofcross-countrywasdifferentfrommine.
Ienvisionedcrossinganactualcountryside.Instead,Percyshotdownthenearestexitramp,wove
acrosstheparkinglotofashoppingmall,thenblastedthroughthedrive-throughofaMexican
restaurantwithoutevenorderinganything.Weswervedintoanindustrialareaofdilapidated
warehouses,thesmokingapparitionsstillclosinginbehindus.
Myknucklesturnedwhiteonmyseatbelt’sshoulderstrap.“Isyourplantoavoidafightbydying
inatrafficaccident?”Idemanded.
“Ha-ha.”Percyyankedthewheeltotheright.Wespednorth,thewarehousesgivingwaytoa
hodgepodgeofapartmentbuildingsandabandonedstripmalls.“I’mgettingustothebeach.Ifight
betternearwater.”
“BecausePoseidon?”Megasked,steadyingherselfagainstthedoorhandle.
“Yep,”Percyagreed.“Thatprettymuchdescribesmyentirelife:BecausePoseidon.”
Megbouncedupanddownwithexcitement,whichseemedpointlesstome,sincewewerealready
bouncingquitealot.
“You’regonnabelikeAquaman?”sheasked.“Getthefishtofightforyou?”
“Thanks,”Percysaid.“Ihaven’theardenoughAquamanjokesforonelifetime.”
“Iwasn’tjoking!”Megprotested.
Iglancedouttherearwindow.Thethreeglitteringplumeswerestillgaining.Oneofthempassed
throughamiddle-agedmancrossingthestreet.Themortalpedestrianinstantlycollapsed.
“Ah,Iknowthesespirits!”Icried.“Theyare…um…”
Mybraincloudedover.
“What?”Percydemanded.“Theyarewhat?”
“I’veforgotten!Ihatebeingmortal!Fourthousandyearsofknowledge,thesecretsofthe
universe,aseaofwisdom—lost,becauseIcan’tcontainitallinthisteacupofahead!”
“Holdon!”PercyflewthrougharailroadcrossingandthePriuswentairborne.Megyelpedasher
headhittheceiling.Thenshebegangigglinguncontrollably.
Thelandscapeopenedintoactualcountryside—fallowfields,dormantvineyards,orchardsof
barefruittrees.
“Justanothermileorsotothebeach,”Percysaid.“Pluswe’realmosttothewesternedgeofcamp.
Wecandoit.Wecandoit.”
Actually,wecouldn’t.Oneoftheshinysmokecloudspulledadirtytrick,plumingfromthe
pavementdirectlyinfrontofus.
Instinctively,Percyswerved.
ThePriuswentofftheroad,straightthroughabarbedwirefenceandintoanorchard.Percy
managedtoavoidhittinganyofthetrees,butthecarskiddedintheicymudandwedgeditself
betweentwotrunks.Miraculously,theairbagsdidnotdeploy.
Percypoppedhisseatbelt.“Youguysokay?”
Megshovedagainstherpassenger-sidedoor.“Won’topen.Getmeoutofhere!”
Percytriedhisowndoor.Itwasfirmlyjammedagainstthesideofapeachtree.
“Backhere,”Isaid.“Climbover!”
Ikickedmydooropenandstaggeredout,mylegsfeelinglikewornshockabsorbers.
Thethreesmokyfigureshadstoppedattheedgeoftheorchard.Nowtheyadvancedslowly,taking
onsolidshapes.Theygrewarmsandlegs.Theirfacesformedeyesandwide,hungrymouths.
IknewinstinctivelythatIhaddealtwiththesespiritsbefore.Icouldn’trememberwhattheywere,
butIhaddispelledthemmanytimes,swattingthemintooblivionwithnomoreeffortthanIwoulda
swarmofgnats.
Unfortunately,Iwasn’tagodnow.Iwasapanickysixteen-year-old.Mypalmssweated.Myteeth
chattered.Myonlycoherentthoughtwas:YIKES!
PercyandMegstruggledtogetoutofthePrius.Theyneededtime,whichmeantIhadtorun
interference.
“STOP!”Ibellowedatthespirits.“IamthegodApollo!”
Tomypleasantsurprise,thethreespiritsstopped.Theyhoveredinplaceaboutfortyfeetaway.
IheardMeggruntasshetumbledoutofthebackseat.Percyscrambledafterher.
Iadvancedtowardthespirits,thefrostymudcrunchingundermyshoes.Mybreathsteamedinthe
coldair.Iraisedmyhandinanancientthree-fingeredgestureforwardingoffevil.
“Leaveusorbedestroyed!”Itoldthespirits.“BLOFIS!”
Thesmokyshapestrembled.Myhopeslifted.Iwaitedforthemtodissipateorfleeinterror.
Instead,theysolidifiedintoghoulishcorpseswithyelloweyes.Theirclothesweretatteredrags,
theirlimbscoveredwithgapingwoundsandrunningsores.
“Oh,dear.”MyAdam’sappledroppedintomychestlikeabilliardball.“Iremembernow.”
PercyandMegsteppedtoeithersideofme.Withametallicshink,Percy’spengrewintoablade
ofglowingCelestialbronze.
“Rememberwhat?”heasked.“Howtokillthesethings?”
“No,”Isaid.“Irememberwhattheyare:nosoi,plaguespirits.Also…theycan’tbekilled.”
Tagwithplaguespirits
You’reit,andyou’reinfectious
Havefunwiththat,LOL
“NOSOI?”PERCYPLANTEDHISFEETinafightingstance.“Youknow,Ikeepthinking,Ihave
nowkilledeverysinglethinginGreekmythology.Butthelistneverseemstoend.”
“Youhaven’tkilledmeyet,”Inoted.
“Don’ttemptme.”
Thethreenosoishuffledforward.Theircadaverousmouthsgaped.Theirtongueslolled.Their
eyesglistenedwithafilmofyellowmucus.
“Thesecreaturesarenotmyths,”Isaid.“Ofcourse,mostthingsinthoseoldmythsarenotmyths.
ExceptforthatstoryabouthowIflayedthesatyrMarsyasalive.Thatwasatotallie.”
Percyglancedatme.“Youdidwhat?”
“Guys.”Megpickedupadeadtreebranch.“Couldwetalkaboutthatlater?”
Themiddleplaguespiritspoke.“Apollooooo…”Hisvoicegurgledlikeasealwithbronchitis.
“Wehavecoooometo—”
“Letmestopyourightthere.”Icrossedmyarmsandfeignedarrogantindifference.(Difficultfor
me,butImanaged.)“You’vecometotakeyourrevengeonme,eh?”Ilookedatmydemigodfriends.
“Yousee,nosoiarethespiritsofdisease.OnceIwasborn,spreadingillnessesbecamepartofmyjob.
Iuseplaguearrowstostrikedownnaughtypopulationswithsmallpox,athlete’sfoot,thatsortof
thing.”
“Gross,”Megsaid.
“Somebody’sgottodoit!”Isaid.“Betteragod,regulatedbytheCouncilofOlympusandwiththe
properhealthpermits,thanahordeofuncontrolledspiritslikethese.”
Thespiritontheleftgurgled.“We’retryingtohaveamooomenthere.Stopinterrupting!Wewish
tobefree,uncontroooolled—”
“Yes,Iknow.You’lldestroyme.Thenyou’llspreadeveryknownmaladyacrosstheworld.
You’vebeenwantingtodothateversincePandoraletyououtofthatjar.Butyoucan’t.Iwillstrike
youdown!”
PerhapsyouarewonderinghowIcouldactsoconfidentandcalm.Infact,Iwasterrified.My
sixteen-year-oldmortalinstinctswerescreaming,RUN!Mykneeswereknockingtogether,andmy
righteyehaddevelopedanastytwitch.Butthesecrettodealingwithplaguespiritswastokeeptalking
soastoappearinchargeandunafraid.Itrustedthatthiswouldallowmydemigodcompanionstime
tocomeupwithacleverplantosaveme.IcertainlyhopedMegandPercywereworkingonsucha
plan.
Thespiritontherightbaredhisrottenteeth.“Whatwillyoustrikeusdownwith?Whereisyour
booow?”
“Itappearstobemissing,”Iagreed.“Butisitreally?Whatifit’scleverlyhiddenunderthisLed
ZeppelinT-shirt,andIamabouttowhipitoutandshootyouall?”
Thenosoishufflednervously.
“Yoooulie,”saidtheoneinthemiddle.
Percyclearedhisthroat.“Um,hey,Apollo…”
Finally!Ithought.
“Iknowwhatyou’regoingtosay,”Itoldhim.“YouandMeghavecomeupwithacleverplanto
holdoffthesespiritswhileIrunawaytocamp.Ihatetoseeyousacrificeyourselves,but—”
“That’snotwhatIwasgoingtosay.”Percyraisedhisblade.“IwasgoingtoaskwhathappensifI
justsliceanddicethesemouth-breatherswithCelestialbronze.”
Themiddlespiritchortled,hisyelloweyesgleaming.“Aswordissuchasmallweapon.Itdoes
nothavethepooooetryofagoodepidemic.”
“Stoprightthere!”Isaid.“Youcan’tclaimbothmyplaguesandmypoetry!”
“Youareright,”saidthespirit.“Enoughwooooords.”
Thethreecorpsesshambledforward.Ithrustoutmyarms,hopingtoblastthemtodust.Nothing
happened.
“Thisisinsufferable!”Icomplained.“Howdodemigodsdoitwithoutanauto-winpower?”
Megjabbedhertreebranchintothenearestspirit’schest.Thebranchstuck.Glitteringsmoke
beganswirlingdownthelengthofthewood.
“Letgo!”Iwarned.“Don’tletthenosoitouchyou!”
Megreleasedthebranchandscamperedaway.
Meanwhile,PercyJacksonchargedintobattle.Heswunghissword,dodgingthespirits’attempts
tosnarehim,buthiseffortswerefutile.Wheneverhisbladeconnectedwiththenosoi,theirbodies
simplydissolvedintoglitterymist,thenresolidified.
Aspiritlungedtograbhim.Fromtheground,Megscoopedupafrozenblackpeachandthrewit
withsuchforceitembeddeditselfinthespirit’sforehead,knockinghimdown.
“Wegottarun,”Megdecided.
“Yeah.”Percybacktrackedtowardus.“Ilikethatidea.”
Iknewrunningwouldnothelp.Ifitwerepossibletorunfromdiseasespirits,themedieval
Europeanswould’veputontheirtrackshoesandescapedtheBlackDeath.(AndFYI,theBlackDeath
wasnotmyfault.ItookonecenturyofftoliearoundthebeachinCabo,andcamebackandfoundthat
thenosoihadgottenlooseandathirdofthecontinentwasdead.Gods,Iwassoirritated.)
ButIwastooterrifiedtoargue.MegandPercysprintedoffthroughtheorchard,andIfollowed.
Percypointedtoalineofhillsaboutamileahead.“That’sthewesternborderofcamp.Ifwecan
justgetthere…”
Wepassedanirrigationtankonatractor-trailer.Withacasualflickofhishand,Percycausedthe
sideofthetanktorupture.Awallofwatercrashedintothethreenosoibehindus.
“Thatwasgood.”Meggrinned,skippingalonginhernewgreendress.“We’regoingtomakeit!”
No,Ithought,we’renot.
Mychestached.Eachbreathwasaraggedwheeze.Iresentedthatthesetwodemigodscouldcarry
onaconversationwhilerunningfortheirliveswhileI,theimmortalApollo,wasreducedtogasping
likeacatfish.
“Wecan’t—”Igulped.“They’lljust—”
BeforeIcouldfinish,threeglitteringpillarsofsmokeplumedfromthegroundinfrontofus.
Twoofthenosoisolidifiedintocadavers—onewithapeachforathirdeye,theotherwithatree
branchstickingoutofhischest.
Thethirdspirit…Well,Percydidn’tseeitintime.Heranstraightintotheplumeofsmoke.
“Don’tbreathe!”Iwarnedhim.
Percy’seyesbuggedoutasiftosay,Seriously?Hefelltohisknees,clawingathisthroat.Asason
ofPoseidon,hecouldprobablybreatheunderwater,butholdingone’sbreathforanindeterminate
amountoftimewasadifferentmatteraltogether.
Megpickedupanotherwitheredpeachfromthefield,butitwouldofferherlittledefenseagainst
theforcesofdarkness.
ItriedtofigureouthowtohelpPercy—becauseIamallabouthelping—butthebranch-impaled
nososchargedatme.Iturnedandfled,runningface-firstintoatree.I’dliketotellyouthatwaspart
ofmyplan,butevenI,withallmypoeticskill,cannotputapositivespinonit.
Ifoundmyselfflatonmyback,spotsdancinginmyeyes,thecadaverousvisageoftheplague
spiritloomingoverme.
“WhichfatalillnessshallIusetokillthegreatApolloooo?”thespiritgurgled.“Anthrax?Perhaps
eboooola…”
“Hangnails,”Isuggested,tryingtosquirmawayfrommytormentor.“Iliveinfearofhangnails.”
“Ihavetheanswer!”thespiritcried,rudelyignoringme.“Let’strythis!”
Hedissolvedintosmokeandsettledovermelikeaglitteringblanket.
Peachesincombat
Iamhangingitupnow
Mybrainexploded
IWILLNOTSAYmylifepassedbeforemyeyes.
Iwishithad.Thatwould’vetakenseveralmonths,givingmetimetofigureoutanescapeplan.
Instead,myregretspassedbeforemyeyes.Despitebeingagloriouslyperfectbeing,Idohavea
fewregrets.IrememberedthatdayatAbbeyRoadStudios,whenmyenvyledmetosetrancorinthe
heartsofJohnandPaulandbreakuptheBeatles.IrememberedAchillesfallingontheplainsofTroy,
cutdownbyanunworthyarcherbecauseofmywrath.
IsawHyacinthus,hisbronzeshouldersanddarkringletsgleaminginthesunlight.Standingonthe
sidelineofthediscusfield,hegavemeabrilliantsmile.Evenyoucan’tthrowthatfar,heteased.
Watchme,Isaid.Ithrewthediscus,thenstaredinhorrorasagustofwindmadeitveer,
inexplicably,towardHyacinthus’shandsomeface.
AndofcourseIsawher—theotherloveofmylife—herfairskintransformingintobark,herhair
sproutinggreenleaves,hereyeshardeningintorivuletsofsap.
Thosememoriesbroughtbacksomuchpain,youmightthinkIwouldwelcometheglittering
plaguemistdescendingoverme.
Yetmynewmortalselfrebelled.Iwastooyoungtodie!Ihadn’tevenhadmyfirstkiss!(Yes,my
godlycatalogueofexeswasfilledwithmorebeautifulpeoplethanaKardashianpartyguestlist,but
noneofthatseemedrealtome.)
IfI’mbeingtotallyhonest,Ihavetoconfesssomethingelse:allgodsfeardeath,evenwhenweare
notencasedinmortalforms.
Thatmayseemsilly.Weareimmortal.Butasyou’veseen,immortalitycanbetakenaway.(Inmy
case,threestinkingtimes.)
Godsknowaboutfading.Theyknowaboutbeingforgottenoverthecenturies.Theideaof
ceasingtoexistaltogetherterrifiesus.Infact—well,Zeuswouldnotlikemesharingthisinformation,
andifyoutellanyone,IwilldenyIeversaidit—butthetruthiswegodsarealittleinaweofyou
mortals.Youspendyourwholelivesknowingyouwilldie.Nomatterhowmanyfriendsandrelatives
youhave,yourpunyexistencewillquicklybeforgotten.Howdoyoucopewithit?Whyareyounot
runningaroundconstantlyscreamingandpullingyourhairout?Yourbravery,Imustadmit,isquite
admirable.
NowwherewasI?
Right.Iwasdying.
Irolledaroundinthemud,holdingmybreath.Itriedtobrushoffthediseasecloud,butitwasnot
aseasyasswattingaflyoranuppitymortal.
IcaughtaglimpseofMeg,playingadeadlygameoftagwiththethirdnosos,tryingtokeepa
peachtreebetweenherselfandthespirit.Sheyelledsomethingtome,buthervoiceseemedtinnyand
faraway.
Somewheretomyleft,thegroundshook.Aminiaturegeysereruptedfromthefield.Percy
crawledtowarditdesperately.Hethrusthisfaceinthewater,washingawaythesmoke.
Myeyesightbegantodim.
Percystruggledtohisfeet.Herippedoutthesourceofthegeyser—anirrigationpipe—and
turnedthewateronme.
NormallyIdonotlikebeingdoused.EverytimeIgocampingwithArtemis,shelikestowakeme
upwithabucketofice-coldwater.Butinthiscase,Ididn’tmind.
Thewaterdisruptedthesmoke,allowingmetorollawayandgaspforair.Nearby,ourtwo
gaseousenemiesre-formedasdrippingwetcorpses,theiryelloweyesglowingwithannoyance.
Megyelledagain.ThistimeIunderstoodherwords.“GETDOWN!”
Ifoundthisinconsiderate,sinceI’donlyjustgottenup.Allaroundtheorchard,thefrozen
blackenedremnantsoftheharvestwerebeginningtolevitate.
Believeme,infourthousandyearsIhaveseensomestrangethings.Ihaveseenthedreamingface
ofOuranosetchedinstarsacrosstheheavens,andthefullfuryofTyphonasheragedacrossthe
earth.I’veseenmenturnintosnakes,antsturnintomen,andotherwiserationalpeopledancethe
macarena.
ButneverbeforehadIseenanuprisingoffrozenfruit.
PercyandIhitthegroundaspeachesshotaroundtheorchard,ricochetingofftreeslikeeight
balls,rippingthroughthenosoi’scadaverousbodies.IfIhadbeenstandingup,Iwouldhavebeen
killed,butMegsimplystoodthere,unfazedandunhurt,asfrozendeadfruitzingedaroundher.
Allthreenosoicollapsed,riddledwithholes.Everypieceoffruitdroppedtotheground.
Percylookedup,hiseyesredandpuffy.“Whahjushappened?”
Hesoundedcongested,whichmeanthehadn’tcompletelyescapedtheeffectsoftheplaguecloud,
butatleasthewasn’tdead.Thatwasgenerallyagoodsign.
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted.“Meg,isitsafe?”
Shewasstaringinamazementatthecarnageoffruit,mangledcorpses,andbrokentreelimbs.“I
—I’mnotsure.”
“How’dyoudothah?”Percysnuffled.
Meglookedhorrified.“Ididn’t!Ijustknewitwouldhappen.”
Oneofthecadaversbegantostir.Itgotup,wobblingonitsheavilyperforatedlegs.
“Butyoudiddooooit,”thespiritgrowled.“Yooouarestrong,child.”
Theothertwocorpsesrose.
“Notstrongenough,”saidthesecondnosos.“Wewillfinishyounow.”
Thethirdspiritbaredhisrottenteeth.“Yourguardianwouldbesooooodisappointed.”
Guardian?Perhapsthespiritmeantme.Whenindoubt,Iusuallyassumedtheconversationwas
aboutme.
Meglookedasifshe’dbeenpunchedinthegut.Herfacepaled.Herarmstrembled.Shestamped
herfootandyelled,“NO!”
Morepeachesswirledintotheair.Thistimethefruitblurredtogetherinafructosedustdevil,
untilstandinginfrontofMegwasacreaturelikeapudgyhumantoddlerwearingonlyalinendiaper.
Protrudingfromhisbackwerewingsmadeofleafybranches.Hisbabyishfacemighthavebeencute
exceptfortheglowinggreeneyesandpointyfangs.Thecreaturesnarledandsnappedattheair.
“Oh,no.”Percyshookhishead.“Ihatethesethings.”
Thethreenosoialsodidnotlookpleased.Theyedgedawayfromthesnarlingbaby.
“Wh-whatisit?”Megasked.
Istaredatherindisbelief.Shehadtobethecauseofthisfruit-basedstrangeness,butshelooked
asshockedaswewere.Unfortunately,ifMegdidn’tknowhowshehadsummonedthiscreature,she
wouldnotknowhowtomakeitgoaway,andlikePercyJackson,Iwasnofanofkarpoi.
“It’sagrainspirit,”Isaid,tryingtokeepthepanicoutofmyvoice.“I’veneverseenapeach
karposbefore,butifit’sasviciousasothertypes…”
Iwasabouttosay,we’redoomed,butthatseemedbothobviousanddepressing.
Thepeachbabyturnedtowardthenosoi.Foramoment,Ifearedhewouldmakesomehellish
alliance—anaxisofevilbetweenillnessesandfruits.
Themiddlecorpse,theonewiththepeachinhisforehead,inchedbackward.“Donotinterfere,”
hewarnedthekarpos.“Wewillnotallooow—”
Thepeachbabylaunchedhimselfatthenososandbithisheadoff.
Thatisnotafigureofspeech.Thekarpos’sfangedmouthunhinged,expandingtoanunbelievable
circumference,thenclosedaroundthecadaver ’shead,andchompeditoffinonebite.
Oh,dear…Ihopeyouweren’teatingdinnerasyoureadthat.
Inamatterofseconds,thenososhadbeentorntoshredsanddevoured.
Understandably,theothertwonosoiretreated,butthekarposcrouchedandsprang.Helandedon
thesecondcorpseandproceededtoripitintoplague-flavoredCreamofWheat.
Thelastspiritdissolvedintoglitteringsmokeandtriedtoflyaway,butthepeachbabyspreadhis
leafywingsandlaunchedhimselfinpursuit.Heopenedhismouthandinhaledthesickness,snapping
andswallowinguntileverywispofsmokewasgone.
HelandedinfrontofMegandbelched.Hisgreeneyesgleamed.Hedidnotappearevenslightly
sick,whichIsupposewasn’tsurprising,sincehumandiseasesdon’tinfectfruittrees.Instead,even
aftereatingthreewholenosoi,thelittlefellowlookedhungry.
Hehowledandbeathissmallchest.“Peaches!”
Slowly,Percyraisedhissword.Hisnosewasstillredandrunny,andhisfacewaspuffy.“Meg,
donmove,”hesnuffled.“I’mgonna—”
“No!”shesaid.“Don’thurthim.”
Sheputherhandtentativelyonthecreature’scurlyhead.“Yousavedus,”shetoldthekarpos.
“Thankyou.”
Istartedmentallypreparingalistofherbalremediesforregeneratingseveredlimbs,buttomy
surprise,thepeachbabydidnotbiteoffMeg’shand.InsteadhehuggedMeg’slegandglaredatusas
ifdaringustoapproach.
“Peaches,”hegrowled.
“Helikesyou,”Percynoted.“Um…why?”
“Idon’tknow,”Megsaid.“Honestly,Ididn’tsummonhim!”
IwascertainMeghadsummonedhim,intentionallyorunintentionally.Ialsohadsomeideasnow
abouthergodlyparentage,andsomequestionsaboutthis“guardian”thatthespiritshadmentioned,
butIdecideditwouldbebettertointerrogateherwhenshedidnothaveasnarlingcarnivorous
toddlerwrappedaroundherleg.
“Well,whateverthecase,”Isaid,“weowethekarposourlives.Thisbringstomindanexpression
Icoinedagesago:Apeachadaykeepstheplaguespiritsaway!”
Percysneezed.“Ithoughtitwasapplesanddoctors.”
Thekarposhissed.
“Orpeaches,”Percysaid.“Peachesworktoo.”
“Peaches,”agreedthekarpos.
Percywipedhisnose.“Notcriticizing,butwhyishegrooting?”
Megfrowned.“Grooting?”
“Yeah,likethahcharacterinthemovie…onlysayingonethingoverandover.”
“I’mafraidIhaven’tseenthatmovie,”Isaid.“Butthiskarposdoesseemtohaveavery…targeted
vocabulary.”
“MaybePeachesishisname.”Megstrokedthekarpos’scurlybrownhair,whicheliciteda
demonicpurringfromthecreature’sthroat.“That’swhatI’llcallhim.”
“Whoa,youarenotadoptingthah—”Percysneezedwithsuchforce,anotherirrigationpipe
explodedbehindhim,sendinguparowoftinygeysers.“Ugh.Sick.”
“You’relucky,”Isaid.“Yourtrickwiththewaterdilutedthespirit’spower.Insteadofgettinga
deadlyillness,yougotaheadcold.”
“Ihateheadcolds.”Hisgreeniriseslookedliketheyweresinkinginaseaofbloodshot.“Neither
ofyougotsick?”
Megshookherhead.
“Ihaveanexcellentconstitution,”Isaid.“Nodoubtthat’swhatsavedme.”
“AndthefactthahIhosedthesmokeoffofyou,”Percysaid.
“Well,yes.”
Percystaredatmeasifwaitingforsomething.Afteranawkwardmoment,itoccurredtomethat
ifhewasagodandIwasaworshipper,hemightexpectgratitude.
“Ah…thankyou,”Isaid.
Henodded.“Noproblem.”
Irelaxedalittle.Ifhehaddemandedasacrifice,likeawhitebullorafattedcalf,I’mnotsurewhat
Iwould’vedone.
“Canwegonow?”Megasked.
“Anexcellentidea,”Isaid.“ThoughI’mafraidPercyisinnocondition—”
“Icandriveyoutherestoftheway,”hesaid.“Ifwecangetmycaroutfrombetweenthose
trees…”Heglancedinthatdirectionandhisexpressionturnedevenmoremiserable.“Aw,Hades
no….”
Apolicecruiserwaspullingoveronthesideoftheroad.Iimaginedtheofficers’eyestracingthe
tirerutsinthemud,whichledtotheplowed-downfenceandcontinuedtotheblueToyotaPrius
wedgedbetweentwopeachtrees.Thecruiser ’srooflightsflashedon.
“Great,”Percymuttered.“IftheytowthePrius,I’mdead.MymomandPaulneedthahcar.”
“Gotalktotheofficers,”Isaid.“Youwon’tbeanyusetousanywayinyourcurrentstate.”
“Yeah,we’llbefine,”Megsaid.“Yousaidthecampisrightoverthosehills?”
“Right,but…”Percyscowled,probablytryingtothinkstraightthroughtheeffectsofhiscold.
“Mostpeopleentercampfromtheeast,whereHalf-BloodHillis.Thewesternborderiswilder—hills
andwoods,allheavilyenchanted.Ifyou’renotcareful,youcangetlost….”Hesneezedagain.“I’m
stillnotevensureApollocangetinifhe’sfullymortal.”
“I’llgetin.”Itriedtoexudeconfidence.Ihadnoalternative.IfIwasunabletoenterCampHalfBlood…No.I’dalreadybeenattackedtwiceonmyfirstdayasamortal.TherewasnoplanBthat
wouldkeepmealive.
Thepolicecar ’sdoorsopened.
“Go,”IurgedPercy.“We’llfindourwaythroughthewoods.Youexplaintothepolicethatyou’re
sickandyoulostcontrolofthecar.They’llgoeasyonyou.”
Percylaughed.“Yeah.Copslovemealmostasmuchasteachersdo.”HeglancedatMeg.“You
sureyou’reokaywiththebabyfruitdemon?”
Peachesgrowled.
“Allgood,”Megpromised.“Gohome.Rest.Getlotsoffluids.”
Percy’smouthtwitched.“You’retellingasonofPoseidontogetlotsoffluids?Okay,justtryto
surviveuntiltheweekend,willyou?I’llcometocampandcheckonyouguysifIcan.Becarefuland
—CHOOOO!”
Mutteringunhappily,hetouchedthecapofhispentohissword,turningitbackintoasimple
ballpoint.Awiseprecautionbeforeapproachinglawenforcement.Hetrudgeddownthehill,sneezing
andsniffling.
“Officer?”hecalled.“Sorry,I’muphere.CanyoutellmewhereManhattanis?”
Megturnedtome.“Ready?”
Iwassoakingwetandshivering.Iwashavingtheworstdayinthehistoryofdays.Iwasstuckwith
ascarygirlandanevenscarierpeachbaby.Iwasbynomeansreadyforanything.ButIalso
desperatelywantedtoreachcamp.Imightfindsomefriendlyfacesthere—perhapsevenjubilant
worshipperswhowouldbringmepeeledgrapes,Oreos,andotherholyofferings.
“Sure,”Isaid.“Let’sgo.”
Peachesthekarposgrunted.Hegesturedforustofollow,thenscamperedtowardthehills.Maybe
heknewtheway.Maybehejustwantedtoleadustoagrislydeath.
Megskippedafterhim,swingingfromtreebranchesandcartwheelingthroughthemudasthe
moodtookher.Youmight’vethoughtwe’djustfinishedanicepicnicratherthanabattlewithplagueriddencadavers.
Iturnedmyfacetothesky.“Areyousure,Zeus?It’snottoolatetotellmethiswasanelaborate
prankandrecallmetoOlympus.I’velearnedmylesson.Ipromise.”
Thegraywintercloudsdidnotrespond.Withasigh,IjoggedafterMegandherhomicidalnew
minion.
Awalkthroughthewoods
Voicesdrivingmebonkers
Ihatespaghetti
ISIGHEDWITHRELIEF.“Thisshouldbeeasy.”
Granted,I’dsaidthesamethingbeforeIfoughtPoseidoninhand-to-handcombat,andthathad
notturnedouttobeeasy.Nevertheless,ourpathintoCampHalf-Bloodlookedstraightforward
enough.Forstarters,IwaspleasedIcouldseethecamp,sinceitwasnormallyshieldedfrommortal
eyes.Thisbodedwellformegettingin.
Fromwherewestoodatthetopofahill,theentirevalleyspreadoutbelowus:roughlythree
squaremilesofwoods,meadows,andstrawberryfieldsborderedbyLongIslandSoundtothenorth
androllinghillsontheotherthreesides.Justbelowus,adenseforestofevergreenscoveredthe
westernthirdofthevale.
Beyondthat,thebuildingsofCampHalf-Bloodgleamedinthewintrylight:theamphitheater,the
sword-fightingstadium,theopen-airdiningpavilionwithitswhitemarblecolumns.Atriremefloated
inthecanoelake.Twentycabinslinedthecentralgreenwherethecommunalhearthfireglowed
cheerfully.
AttheedgeofthestrawberryfieldsstoodtheBigHouse:afour-storyVictorianpaintedskyblue
withwhitetrim.MyfriendChironwouldbeinside,probablyhavingteabythefireplace.Iwouldfind
sanctuaryatlast.
Mygazerosetothefarendofthevalley.There,onthetallesthill,theAthenaParthenosshonein
allitsgold-and-alabasterglory.Once,themassivestatuehadgracedtheParthenoninGreece.Nowit
presidedoverCampHalf-Blood,protectingthevalleyfromintruders.EvenfromhereIcouldfeelits
power,likethesubsonicthrumofamightyengine.OldGrayEyeswasonthelookoutforthreats,
beingherusualvigilant,no-fun,all-businessself.
Personally,Iwouldhaveinstalledamoreinterestingstatue—ofmyself,forinstance.Still,the
panoramaofCampHalf-Bloodwasanimpressivesight.MymoodalwaysimprovedwhenIsawthe
place—asmallreminderofthegoodolddayswhenmortalsknewhowtobuildtemplesanddo
properburntsacrifices.Ah,everythingwasbetterinancientGreece!Well,exceptforafewsmall
improvementsmodernhumanshadmade—theInternet,chocolatecroissants,lifeexpectancy.
Meg’smouthhungopen.“HowcomeI’veneverheardaboutthisplace?Doyouneedtickets?”
Ichuckled.Ialwaysenjoyedthechancetoenlightenacluelessmortal.“Yousee,Meg,magical
borderscamouflagethevalley.Fromtheoutside,mosthumanswouldspynothinghereexceptboring
farmland.Iftheyapproached,theywouldgetturnedaroundandfindthemselveswanderingoutagain.
Believeme,Itriedtogetapizzadeliveredtocamponce.Itwasquiteannoying.”
“Youorderedapizza?”
“Nevermind,”Isaid.“Asfortickets…it’struethecampdoesn’tletinjustanybody,butyou’rein
luck.Iknowthemanagement.”
Peachesgrowled.Hesniffedtheground,thenchompedamouthfulofdirtandspititout.
“Hedoesn’tlikethetasteofthisplace,”Megsaid.
“Yes,well…”Ifrownedatthekarpos.“Perhapswecanfindhimsomepottingsoilorfertilizer
whenwearrive.I’llconvincethedemigodstolethimin,butitwouldbehelpfulifhedoesn’tbite
theirheadsoff—atleastnotrightaway.”
Peachesmutteredsomethingaboutpeaches.
“Somethingdoesn’tfeelright.”Megbithernails.“Thosewoods…Percysaidtheywerewildand
enchantedandstuff.”
I,too,feltasifsomethingwasamiss,butIchalkedthisuptomygeneraldislikeofforests.For
reasonsI’drathernotgointo,Ifindthem…uncomfortableplaces.Nevertheless,withourgoalin
sight,myusualoptimismwasreturning.
“Don’tworry,”IassuredMeg.“You’retravelingwithagod!”
“Ex-god.”
“Iwishyouwouldn’tkeepharpingonthat.Anyway,thecampersareveryfriendly.They’ll
welcomeuswithtearsofjoy.Andwaituntilyouseetheorientationvideo!”
“Thewhat?”
“Idirecteditmyself!Now,comealong.Thewoodscan’tbethatbad.”
Thewoodswerethatbad.
Assoonasweenteredtheirshadows,thetreesseemedtocrowdus.Trunksclosedranks,blocking
oldpathsandopeningnewones.Rootswrithedacrosstheforestfloor,makinganobstaclecourseof
bumps,knots,andloops.Itwasliketryingtowalkacrossagiantbowlofspaghetti.
Thethoughtofspaghettimademehungry.IthadonlybeenafewhourssinceSallyJackson’s
seven-layerdipandsandwiches,butmymortalstomachwasalreadyclenchingandsquelchingfor
food.Thesoundswerequiteannoying,especiallywhilewalkingthroughdarkscarywoods.Eventhe
karposPeacheswasstartingtosmellgoodtome,givingmevisionsofcobblerandicecream.
AsIsaidearlier,Iwasgenerallynotafanofthewoods.Itriedtoconvincemyselfthatthetrees
werenotwatchingme,scowlingandwhisperingamongthemselves.Theywerejusttrees.Evenifthey
haddryadspirits,thosedryadscouldn’tpossiblyholdmeresponsibleforwhathadhappened
thousandsofyearsagoonadifferentcontinent.
Whynot?Iaskedmyself.Youstillholdyourselfresponsible.
Itoldmyselftostuffasockinit.
Wehikedforhours…muchlongerthanitshouldhavetakentoreachtheBigHouse.NormallyI
couldnavigatebythesun—whichshouldn’tbeasurprise,sinceIspentmillenniadrivingitacrossthe
sky—butunderthecanopyoftrees,thelightwasdiffuse,theshadowsconfusing.
Afterwepassedthesameboulderforthethirdtime,Istoppedandadmittedtheobvious.“Ihaveno
ideawhereweare.”
Megploppedherselfdownontoafallenlog.Inthegreenlight,shelookedmorelikeadryadthan
ever,thoughtreespiritsdonotoftenwearredsneakersandhand-me-downfleecejackets.
“Don’tyouhaveanywildernessskills?”sheasked.“Readingmossonthesidesoftrees?
Followingtracks?”
“That’smoremysister ’sthing,”Isaid.
“MaybePeachescanhelp.”Megturnedtoherkarpos.“Hey,canyoufindusawayoutofthe
woods?”
Forthepastfewmiles,thekarposhadbeenmutteringnervously,cuttinghiseyesfromsideto
side.Nowhesniffedtheair,hisnostrilsquivering.Hetiltedhishead.
Hisfaceflushedbrightgreen.Heemittedadistressedbark,thendissolvedinaswirlofleaves.
Megshottoherfeet.“Where’dhego?”
Iscannedthewoods.IsuspectedPeacheshaddonetheintelligentthing.He’dsenseddanger
approachingandabandonedus.Ididn’twanttosuggestthattoMeg,though.She’dalreadybecome
quitefondofthekarpos.(Ridiculous,gettingattachedtoasmalldangerouscreature.Thenagain,we
godsgotattachedtohumans,soIhadnoroomtocriticize.)
“Perhapshewentscouting,”Isuggested.“Perhapsweshould—”
APOLLO.
Thevoicereverberatedinmyhead,asifsomeonehadinstalledBosespeakersbehindmyeyes.It
wasnotthevoiceofmyconscience.Myconsciencewasnotfemale,anditwasnotthatloud.Yet
somethingaboutthewoman’stonewaseerilyfamiliar.
“What’swrong?”Megasked.
Theairturnedsicklysweet.ThetreesloomedovermeliketriggerhairsofaVenusflytrap.
Abeadofsweattrickleddownthesideofmyface.
“Wecan’tstayhere,”Isaid.“Attendme,mortal.”
“Excuseme?”Megsaid.
“Uh,Imeancomeon!”
Weran,stumblingovertreeroots,fleeingblindlythroughamazeofbranchesandboulders.We
reachedaclearstreamoverabedofgravel.Ibarelysloweddown.Iwadedin,sinkingshin-deepinto
theice-coldwater.
Thevoicespokeagain:FINDME.
Thistimeitwassoloud,itstabbedthroughmyforeheadlikearailroadspike.Istumbled,falling
tomyknees.
“Hey!”Meggrippedmyarm.“Getup!”
“Youdidn’thearthat?”
“Hearwhat?”
THEFALLOFTHESUN,thevoiceboomed.THEFINALVERSE.
Icollapsedface-firstintothestream.
“Apollo!”Megrolledmeover,hervoicetightwithalarm.“Comeon!Ican’tcarryyou!”
Yetshetried.Shedraggedmeacrosstheriver,scoldingmeandcursinguntil,withherhelp,I
managedtocrawltoshore.
Ilayonmyback,staringwildlyattheforestcanopy.Mysoakedclothesweresocoldtheyburned.
MybodytrembledlikeanopenEstringonanelectricbass.
Megtuggedoffmywetwintercoat.Herowncoatwasmuchtoosmallforme,butshedrapedthe
warmdryfleeceovermyshoulders.“Keepyourselftogether,”sheordered.“Don’tgocrazyonme.”
Myownlaughtersoundedbrittle.“ButI—Iheard—”
THEFIRESWILLCONSUMEME.MAKEHASTE!
Thevoicesplinteredintoachorusofangrywhispers.Shadowsgrewlongeranddarker.Steam
rosefrommyclothes,smellinglikethevolcanicfumesofDelphi.
Partofmewantedtocurlintoaballanddie.Partofmewantedtogetupandrunwildlyafterthe
voices—tofindtheirsource—butIsuspectedthatifItried,mysanitywouldbelostforever.
Megwassayingsomething.Sheshookmyshoulders.Sheputherfacenose-to-nosewithmineso
myownderelictreflectionstaredbackatmefromthelensesofhercat-eyeglasses.Sheslappedme,
hard,andImanagedtodecipherherwords:“GETUP!”
SomehowIdid.ThenIdoubledoverandretched.
Ihadn’tvomitedincenturies.I’dforgottenhowunpleasantitwas.
ThenextthingIknew,wewerestaggeringalong,Megbearingmostofmyweight.Thevoices
whisperedandargued,tearingofflittlepiecesofmymindandcarryingthemawayintotheforest.
SoonIwouldn’thavemuchleft.
Therewasnopoint.Imightaswellwanderoffintotheforestandgoinsane.Theideastruckme
asfunny.Ibegantogiggle.
Megforcedmetokeepwalking.Icouldn’tunderstandherwords,buthertonewasinsistentand
stubborn,withjustenoughangertooutweighherownterror.
Inmyfracturedmentalstate,Ithoughtthetreeswerepartingforus,grudginglyopeningapath
straightoutofthewoods.Isawabonfireinthedistance,andtheopenmeadowsofCampHalf-Blood.
ItoccurredtomethatMegwastalkingtothetrees,tellingthemtogetoutoftheway.Theideawas
ridiculous,andatthemomentitseemedhilarious.Judgingfromthesteambillowingfrommy
clothes,IguessedIwasrunningafeverofaboutahundredandsix.
Iwaslaughinghystericallyaswestumbledoutoftheforest,straighttowardthecampfirewherea
dozenteenagerssatmakings’mores.Whentheysawus,theyrose.Intheirjeansandwintercoats,with
assortedweaponsattheirsides,theywerethedourestbunchofmarshmallowroastersIhadeverseen.
Igrinned.“Oh,hi!I’mApollo!”
Myeyesrolledupinmyhead,andIpassedout.
Mybusisinflames
Mysonisolderthanme
Please,Zeus,makeitstop
IDREAMEDIWASDRIVINGthesunchariotacrossthesky.IhadthetopdowninMaseratimode.I
wascruisingalong,honkingatjetplanestogetoutofmyway,enjoyingthesmellofcold
stratosphere,andboppingtomyfavoritejam:AlabamaShakes’“RisetotheSun.”
IwasthinkingabouttransformingtheSpyderintoaGoogleself-drivingcar.Iwantedtogetout
myluteandplayascorchingsolothatwouldmakeBrittanyHowardproud.
Thenawomanappearedinmypassengerseat.“You’vegottohurry,man.”
Ialmostjumpedoutofthesun.
MyguestwasdressedlikeaLibyanqueenofold.(Ishouldknow.Idatedafewofthem.)Her
gownswirledwithred,black,andgoldfloraldesigns.Herlongdarkhairwascrownedwithatiara
thatlookedlikeacurvedminiatureladder—twogoldrailslinedwithrungsofsilver.Herfacewas
maturebutstately,thewayabenevolentqueenshouldlook.
SodefinitelynotHera,then.Besides,Herawouldneversmileatmesokindly.Also…thiswoman
worealargemetalpeacesymbolaroundherneck,whichdidnotseemlikeHera’sstyle.
Still,IfeltIshouldknowher.Despitetheelder-hippievibe,shewassoattractivethatIassumedwe
mustberelated.
“Whoareyou?”Iasked.
Hereyesflashedadangerousshadeofgold,likeafelinepredator ’s.“Followthevoices.”
Alumpswelledinmythroat.Itriedtothinkstraight,butmybrainfeltlikeithadbeenrecentlyrun
throughaVitamix.“Iheardyouinthewoods….Wereyou—wereyouspeakingaprophecy?”
“Findthegates.”Shegrabbedmywrist.“You’vegottafindthemfirst,youdig?”
“But—”
Thewomanburstintoflames.Ipulledbackmysingedwristandgrabbedthewheelasthesun
chariotplungedintoanosedive.TheMaseratimorphedintoaschoolbus—amodeIonlyusedwhenI
hadtotransportalargenumberofpeople.Smokefilledthecabin.
Somewherebehindme,anasalvoicesaid,“Byallmeans,findthegates.”
Iglancedintherearviewmirror.Throughthesmoke,Isawaportlymaninamauvesuit.He
loungedacrossthebackseat,wherethetroublemakersnormallysat.Hermeswasfondofthatseat—
butthismanwasnotHermes.
Hehadaweakjawline,anoverlargenose,andabeardthatwrappedaroundhisdoublechinlikea
helmetstrap.Hishairwascurlyanddarklikemine,exceptnotasfashionablytousledorluxuriant.
Hislipcurledasifhesmelledsomethingunpleasant.Perhapsitwastheburningseatsofthebus.
“Whoareyou?”Iyelled,desperatelytryingtopullthechariotoutofitsdive.“Whyareyouon
mybus?”
Themansmiled,whichmadehisfaceevenuglier.“Myownforefatherdoesnotrecognizeme?
I’mhurt!”
Itriedtoplacehim.Mycursedmortalbrainwastoosmall,tooinflexible.Ithadjettisonedfour
thousandyearsofmemorieslikesomuchballast.
“I—Idon’t,”Isaid.“I’msorry.”
Themanlaughedasflameslickedathispurplesleeves.“You’renotsorryyet,butyouwillbe.
Findmethegates.LeadmetotheOracle.I’llenjoyburningitdown!”
Fireconsumedmeasthesunchariotcareenedtowardtheearth.Igrippedthewheelandstaredin
horrorasamassivebronzefaceloomedoutsidethewindshield.Itwasthefaceofthemaninpurple,
fashionedfromanexpanseofmetallargerthanmybus.Aswehurtledtowardit,thefeaturesshifted
andbecamemyown.
ThenIwoke,shiveringandsweating.
“Easy.”Someone’shandrestedonmyshoulder.“Don’ttrytositup.”
NaturallyItriedtositup.
Mybedsideattendantwasayoungmanaboutmyage—mymortalage—withshaggyblondhair
andblueeyes.Heworedoctor ’sscrubswithanopenskijacket,thewordsOKEMOMOUNTAIN stitched
onthepocket.Hisfacehadaskier ’stan.IfeltIshouldknowhim.(I’dbeenhavingthatsensationalot
sincemyfallfromOlympus.)
Iwaslyinginacotinthemiddleofacabin.Oneitherside,bunkbedslinedthewalls.Roughcedar
beamsribbedtheceiling.Thewhiteplasterwallswerebareexceptforafewhooksforcoatsand
weapons.
Itcouldhavebeenamodestabodeinalmostanyage—ancientAthens,medievalFrance,the
farmlandsofIowa.Itsmelledofcleanlinenanddriedsage.Theonlydecorationsweresome
flowerpotsonthewindowsill,wherecheerfulyellowbloomswerethrivingdespitethecoldweather
outside.
“Thoseflowers…”Myvoicewashoarse,asifI’dinhaledthesmokefrommydream.“Thoseare
fromDelos,mysacredisland.”
“Yep,”saidtheyoungman.“TheyonlygrowinandaroundCabinSeven—yourcabin.Doyou
knowwhoIam?”
Istudiedhisface.Thecalmnessofhiseyes,thesmilerestingeasilyonhislips,thewayhishair
curledaroundhisears…Ihadavaguememoryofawoman,analt-countrysingernamedNaomi
Solace,whomI’dmetinAustin.Iblushedthinkingaboutherevennow.Tomyteenagedself,our
romancefeltlikesomethingthatI’dwatchedinamoviealongagotime—amoviemyparents
wouldn’thaveallowedmetosee.
ButthisboywasdefinitelyNaomi’sson.
Whichmeanthewasmysontoo.
Whichfeltvery,verystrange.
“You’reWillSolace,”Isaid.“My,ah…erm—”
“Yeah,”Willagreed.“It’sawkward.”
Myfrontallobedidaone-eightyinsidemyskull.Ilistedsideways.
“Whoa,there.”Willsteadiedme.“Itriedtohealyou,buthonestly,Idon’tunderstandwhat’s
wrong.You’vegotblood,notichor.You’rerecoveringquicklyfromyourinjuries,butyourvital
signsarecompletelyhuman.”
“Don’tremindme.”
“Yeah,well…”Heputhishandonmyforeheadandfrownedinconcentration.Hisfingers
trembledslightly.“Ididn’tknowanyofthatuntilItriedtogiveyounectar.Yourlipsstartedsteaming.
Ialmostkilledyou.”
“Ah…”Iranmytongueacrossmybottomlip,whichfeltheavyandnumb.Iwonderedifthat
explainedmydreamaboutsmokeandfire.Ihopedso.“IguessMegforgottotellyouaboutmy
condition.”
“Iguessshedid.”Willtookmywristandcheckedmypulse.“Youseemtobeaboutmyage,
fifteenorso.Yourheartrateisbacktonormal.Ribsaremending.Noseisswollen,butnotbroken.”
“AndIhaveacne,”Ilamented.“Andflab.”
Willtiltedhishead.“You’remortal,andthat’swhatyou’reworriedabout?”
“You’reright.I’mpowerless.Weakereventhanyoupunydemigods!”
“Gee,thanks….”
IgotthefeelingthathealmostsaidDadbutmanagedtostophimself.
Itwasdifficulttothinkofthisyoungmanasmyson.Hewassopoised,sounassuming,sofreeof
acne.Healsodidn’tappeartobeawestruckinmypresence.Infact,thecornerofhismouthhad
startedtwitching.
“Are—areyouamused?”Idemanded.
Willshrugged.“Well,it’seitherfindthisfunnyorfreakout.Mydad,thegodApollo,isafifteenyear-old—”
“Sixteen,”Icorrected.“Let’sgowithsixteen.”
“Asixteen-year-oldmortal,lyinginacotinmycabin,andwithallmyhealingarts—whichIgot
fromyou—Istillcan’tfigureouthowtofixyou.”
“Thereisnofixingthis,”Isaidmiserably.“IamcastoutofOlympus.Myfateistiedtoagirl
namedMeg.Itcouldnotbeworse!”
Willlaughed,whichIthoughttookagreatdealofgall.“Megseemscool.She’salreadypoked
ConnorStollintheeyesandkickedShermanYanginthecrotch.”
“Shedidwhat?”
“She’llgetalongjustfinehere.She’swaitingforyououtside—alongwithmostofthecampers.”
Will’ssmilefaded.“Justsoyou’reprepared,they’reaskingalotofquestions.Everybodyis
wonderingifyourarrival,yourmortalsituation,hasanythingtodowithwhat’sbeengoingonat
camp.”
Ifrowned.“Whathasbeengoingonatcamp?”
Thecabindooropened.Twomoredemigodssteppedinside.Onewasatallboyofaboutthirteen,
hisskinburnishedbronzeandhiscornrowswovenlikeDNAhelixes.Inhisblackwoolpeacoatand
blackjeans,helookedasifhe’dsteppedfromthedeckofaneighteenth-centurywhalingvessel.The
othernewcomerwasayoungergirlinolivecamouflage.Shehadafullquiveronhershoulder,and
hershortgingerhairwasdyedwithashockofbrightgreen,whichseemedtodefeatthepointof
wearingcamouflage.
Ismiled,delightedthatIactuallyrememberedtheirnames.
“Austin,”Isaid.“AndKayla,isn’tit?”
Ratherthanfallingtotheirkneesandblubberinggratefully,theygaveeachotheranervous
glance.
“Soit’sreallyyou,”Kaylasaid.
Austinfrowned.“Megtoldusyouwerebeatenupbyacoupleofthugs.Shesaidyouhadno
powersandyouwenthystericaloutinthewoods.”
Mymouthtastedlikeburntschoolbusupholstery.“Megtalkstoomuch.”
“Butyou’remortal?”Kaylaasked.“Asincompletelymortal?DoesthatmeanI’mgoingtolose
myarcheryskills?Ican’tevenqualifyfortheOlympicsuntilI’msixteen!”
“AndifIlosemymusic…”Austinshookhishead.“No,man,that’swrong.Mylastvideogot,
like,fivehundredthousandviewsinaweek.WhatamIsupposedtodo?”
Itwarmedmyheartthatmychildrenhadtherightpriorities:theirskills,theirimages,theirviews
onYouTube.Saywhatyouwillaboutgodsbeingabsenteeparents;ourchildreninheritmanyofour
finestpersonalitytraits.
“Myproblemsshouldnotaffectyou,”Ipromised.“IfZeuswentaroundretroactivelyyankingmy
divinepoweroutofallmydescendants,halfthemedicalschoolsinthecountrywouldbeempty.The
RockandRollHallofFamewoulddisappear.TheTarot-cardreadingindustrywouldcollapse
overnight!”
Austin’sshouldersrelaxed.“That’sarelief.”
“Soifyoudiewhileyou’remortal,”Kaylasaid,“wewon’tdisappear?”
“Guys,”Willinterrupted,“whydon’tyouruntotheBigHouseandtellChironthatour…our
patientisconscious.I’llbringhimalonginaminute.And,uh,seeifyoucandispersethecrowd
outside,okay?Idon’twanteverybodyrushingApolloatonce.”
KaylaandAustinnoddedsagely.Asmychildren,theynodoubtunderstoodtheimportanceof
controllingthepaparazzi.
Assoonastheyweregone,Willgavemeanapologeticsmile.“They’reinshock.Weallare.It’ll
takesometimetogetusedto…whateverthisis.”
“Youdonotseemshocked,”Isaid.
Willlaughedunderhisbreath.“I’mterrified.Butonethingyoulearnasheadcounselor:youhave
tokeepittogetherforeveryoneelse.Let’sgetyouonyourfeet.”
Itwasnoteasy.Ifelltwice.Myheadspun,andmyeyesfeltasiftheywerebeingmicrowavedin
theirsockets.Recentdreamscontinuedtochurninmybrainlikeriversilt,muddyingmythoughts—
thewomanwiththecrownandthepeacesymbol,themaninthepurplesuit.LeadmetotheOracle.I’ll
enjoyburningitdown!
Thecabinbegantofeelstifling.Iwasanxioustogetsomefreshair.
OnethingmysisterArtemisandIagreeon:everyworthwhilepursuitisbetteroutdoorsthan
indoors.Musicisbestplayedunderthedomeofheaven.Poetryshouldbesharedintheagora.
Archeryisdefinitelyeasieroutside,asIcanattestafterthatonetimeItriedtargetpracticeinmy
father ’sthroneroom.Anddrivingthesun…well,that’snotreallyanindoorsporteither.
LeaningonWillforsupport,Isteppedoutside.KaylaandAustinhadsucceededinshooingthe
crowdaway.Theonlyonewaitingforme—oh,joyandhappiness—wasmyyoungoverlord,Meg,
whohadapparentlynowgainedfameatcampasCrotchkickerMcCaffrey.
ShestillworeSallyJackson’shand-me-downgreendress,thoughitwasabitdirtiernow.Her
leggingswererippedandtorn.Onherbicep,alineofbutterflybandagesclosedanastycutshemust
havegotteninthewoods.
Shetookonelookatme,scrunchedupherface,andstuckouthertongue.“Youlookyuck.”
“Andyou,Meg,”Isaid,“areascharmingasever.”
Sheadjustedherglassesuntiltheywerejustcrookedenoughtobeannoying.“Thoughtyouwere
goingtodie.”
“Gladtodisappointyou.”
“Nah.”Sheshrugged.“Youstillowemeayearofservice.We’rebound,whetheryoulikeitor
not!”
Isighed.ItwaseversowonderfultobebackinMeg’scompany.
“IsupposeIshouldthankyou….”Ihadahazymemoryofmydeliriumintheforest,Meg
carryingmealong,thetreesseemingtopartbeforeus.“Howdidyougetusoutofthewoods?”
Herexpressionturnedguarded.“Dunno.Luck.”ShejabbedathumbatWillSolace.“Fromwhat
he’sbeentellingme,it’sagoodthingwegotoutbeforenightfall.”
“Why?”
Willstartedtoanswer,thenapparentlythoughtbetterofit.“IshouldletChironexplain.Comeon.”
IrarelyvisitedCampHalf-Bloodinwinter.Thelasttimehadbeenthreeyearsago,whenagirl
namedThaliaGracecrash-landedmybusinthecanoelake.
Iexpectedthecamptobesparselypopulated.Iknewmostdemigodsonlycameforthesummer,
leavingasmallcoreofyear-roundersduringtheschoolterm—thosewhoforvariousreasonsfound
camptheonlysafeplacetheycouldlive.
Still,IwasstruckbyhowfewdemigodsIsaw.IfCabinSevenwasanyindication,eachgod’scabin
couldholdbedsforabouttwentycampers.Thatmeantamaximumcapacityoffourhundred
demigods—enoughforseveralphalanxesoronereallyamazingyachtparty.
Yet,aswewalkedacrosscamp,Isawnomorethanadozenpeople.Inthefadinglightofsunset,a
lonegirlwasscalingtheclimbingwallaslavafloweddowneitherside.Atthelake,acrewofthree
checkedtheriggingonthetrireme.
Somecampershadfoundreasonstobeoutsidejustsotheycouldgawkatme.Overbythehearth,
oneyoungmansatpolishinghisshield,watchingmeinitsreflectivesurface.Anotherfellowglared
atmeashesplicedbarbedwireoutsidetheArescabin.Fromtheawkwardwayhewalked,Iassumed
hewasShermanYangoftherecentlykickedcrotch.
InthedoorwayoftheHermescabin,twogirlsgiggledandwhisperedasIpassed.Normallythis
sortofattentionwouldn’thavefazedme.Mymagnetismwasunderstandablyirresistible.Butnowmy
faceburned.Me—themanlyparagonofromance—reducedtoagawky,inexperiencedboy!
Iwouldhavescreamedattheheavensforthisunfairness,butthatwould’vebeensuperembarrassing.
Wemadeourwaythroughthefallowstrawberryfields.UponHalf-BloodHill,theGoldenFleece
glintedinthelowestbranchofatallpinetree.WhiffsofsteamrosefromtheheadofPeleus,the
guardiandragoncoiledaroundthebaseofthetrunk.Nexttothetree,theAthenaParthenoslooked
angryredinthesunset.Orperhapsshejustwasn’thappytoseeme.(Athenahadnevergottenover
ourlittletiffduringtheTrojanWar.)
Halfwaydownthehillside,IspottedtheOracle’scave,itsentranceshroudedbythickburgundy
curtains.Thetorchesoneithersidestoodunlit—usuallyasignthatmyprophetess,RachelDare,was
notinresidence.Iwasn’tsurewhethertobedisappointedorrelieved.
Evenwhenshewasnotchannelingprophecies,Rachelwasawiseyounglady.Ihadhopedto
consultheraboutmyproblems.Ontheotherhand,sinceherpropheticpowerhadapparentlystopped
working(whichIsupposeinsomesmallpartwasmyfault),Iwasn’tsureRachelwouldwanttosee
me.ShewouldexpectexplanationsfromherMainMan,andwhileIhadinventedmansplainingand
wasitsforemostpractitioner,Ihadnoanswerstogiveher.
Thedreamoftheflamingbusstayedwithme:thegroovycrownedwomanurgingmetofindthe
gates,theuglymauve-suitedmanthreateningtoburntheOracle.
Well…thecavewasrightthere.Iwasn’tsurewhythewomaninthecrownwashavingsuch
troublefindingit,orwhytheuglymanwouldbesointentonburningits“gates,”whichamountedto
nothingmorethanpurplecurtains.
UnlessthedreamwasreferringtosomethingotherthantheOracleofDelphi….
Irubbedmythrobbingtemples.Ikeptreachingformemoriesthatweren’tthere,tryingtoplunge
intomyvastlakeofknowledgeonlytofindithadbeenreducedtoakiddiepool.Yousimplycan’tdo
muchwithakiddiepoolbrain.
OntheporchoftheBigHouse,adark-hairedyoungmanwaswaitingforus.Heworefadedblack
trousers,aRamonesT-shirt(bonuspointsformusicaltaste),andablackleatherbomberjacket.Athis
sidehungaStygianironsword.
“Irememberyou,”Isaid.“IsitNicholas,sonofHades?”
“NicodiAngelo.”Hestudiedme,hiseyessharpandcolorless,likebrokenglass.“Soit’strue.
You’recompletelymortal.There’sanauraofdeatharoundyou—athickpossibilityofdeath.”
Megsnorted.“Soundslikeaweatherforecast.”
Ididnotfindthisamusing.Beingface-to-facewithasonofHades,IrecalledthemanymortalsI
hadsenttotheUnderworldwithmyplaguearrows.Ithadalwaysseemedlikegoodcleanfun—
metingoutrichlydeservedpunishmentsforwickeddeeds.Now,Ibegantounderstandtheterrorin
myvictims’eyes.Ididnotwantanauraofdeathhangingoverme.Idefinitelydidnotwanttostandin
judgmentbeforeNicodiAngelo’sfather.
WillputhishandonNico’sshoulder.“Nico,weneedtohaveanothertalkaboutyourpeople
skills.”
“Hey,I’mjuststatingtheobvious.IfthisisApollo,andhedies,we’reallintrouble.”
Willturnedtome.“Iapologizeformyboyfriend.”
Nicorolledhiseyes.“Couldyounot—”
“Wouldyoupreferspecialguy?”Willasked.“Orsignificantother?”
“Significantannoyance,inyourcase,”Nicogrumbled.
“Oh,I’llgetyouforthat.”
Megwipedherdrippingnose.“Youguysfightalot.Ithoughtweweregoingtoseeacentaur.”
“AndhereIam.”Thescreendooropened.Chirontrottedout,duckinghisheadtoavoidthe
doorframe.
Fromthewaistup,helookedeverybittheprofessorheoftenpretendedtobeinthemortalworld.
Hisbrownwooljackethadpatchesontheelbows.Hisplaiddressshirtdidnotquitematchhisgreen
tie.Hisbeardwasneatlytrimmed,buthishairwouldhavefailedthetidinessinspectionrequiredfora
properrat’snest.
Fromthewaistdown,hewasawhitestallion.
Myoldfriendsmiled,thoughhiseyeswerestormyanddistracted.“Apollo,it’sgoodyouare
here.Weneedtotalkaboutthedisappearances.”
Checkyourspamfolder
Thepropheciesmightbethere
No?Well,I’mstumped.Bye
MEGGAWKED.“He—hereallyisacentaur.”
“Wellspotted,”Isaid.“Isupposethelowerbodyofahorseiswhatgavehimaway?”
Shepunchedmeinthearm.
“Chiron,”Isaid,“thisisMegMcCaffrey,mynewmasterandwellspringofaggravation.You
weresayingsomethingaboutdisappearances?”
Chiron’stailflicked.Hishoovescloppedontheplanksoftheporch.
Hewasimmortal,yethisvisibleageseemedtovaryfromcenturytocentury.Ididnotremember
hiswhiskerseverbeingsogray,orthelinesaroundhiseyessopronounced.Whateverwashappening
atcampmustnothavebeenhelpinghisstresslevels.
“Welcome,Meg.”Chirontriedforafriendlytone,whichIthoughtquiteheroic,seeingas…well,
Meg.“Iunderstandyoushowedgreatbraveryinthewoods.YoubroughtApolloheredespitemany
dangers.I’mgladtohaveyouatCampHalf-Blood.”
“Thanks,”saidMeg.“You’rereallytall.Don’tyouhityourheadonlightfixtures?”
Chironchuckled.“Sometimes.IfIwanttobeclosertohumansize,Ihaveamagicalwheelchair
thatallowsmetocompactmylowerhalfinto…Actually,that’snotimportantnow.”
“Disappearances,”Iprompted.“Whathasdisappeared?”
“Notwhat,butwho,”Chironsaid.“Let’stalkinside.Will,Nico,couldyoupleasetelltheother
camperswe’llgatherfordinnerinonehour?I’llgiveeveryoneanupdatethen.Inthemeantime,no
oneshouldroamthecampalone.Usethebuddysystem.”
“Understood.”WilllookedatNico.“Willyoubemybuddy?”
“Youareadork,”Nicoannounced.
Thetwoofthemstrolledoffbickering.
Atthispoint,youmaybewonderinghowIfeltseeingmysonwithNicodiAngelo.I’lladmitIdid
notunderstandWill’sattractiontoachildofHades,butifthedarkforebodingtypewaswhatmade
Willhappy…
Oh.PerhapssomeofyouarewonderinghowIfeltseeinghimwithaboyfriendratherthana
girlfriend.Ifthat’sthecase,please.Wegodsarenothungupaboutsuchthings.Imyselfhavehad…
let’ssee,thirty-threemortalgirlfriendsandelevenmortalboyfriends?I’velostcount.Mytwo
greatestloveswere,ofcourse,DaphneandHyacinthus,butwhenyou’reagodaspopularasIam—
Holdon.DidIjusttellyouwhoIliked?Idid,didn’tI?GodsofOlympus,forgetImentionedtheir
names!Iamsoembarrassed.Pleasedon’tsayanything.Inthismortallife,I’veneverbeeninlove
withanyone!
Iamsoconfused.
Chironledusintothelivingroom,wherecomfyleathercouchesmadeaVfacingthestone
fireplace.Abovethemantel,astuffedleopardheadwassnoringcontentedly.
“Isitalive?”Megasked.
“Quite.”Chirontrottedovertohiswheelchair.“That’sSeymour.Ifwespeakquietly,weshouldbe
abletoavoidwakinghim.”
Megimmediatelybeganexploringthelivingroom.Knowingher,shewassearchingforsmall
objectstothrowattheleopardtowakehimup.
Chironsettledintohiswheelchair.Heplacedhisrearlegsintothefalsecompartmentoftheseat,
thenbackedup,magicallycompactinghisequinehindquartersuntilhelookedlikeamansitting
down.Tocompletetheillusion,hingedfrontpanelsswungclosed,givinghimfakehumanlegs.
Normallythoselegswerefittedwithslacksandloaferstoaugmenthis“professor”disguise,but
todayitseemedChironwasgoingforadifferentlook.
“That’snew,”Isaid.
Chironglanceddownathisshapelyfemalemannequinlegs,dressedinfishnetstockingsandred
sequinedhighheels.Hesighedheavily.“IseetheHermescabinhavebeenwatchingRockyHorror
PictureShowagain.Iwillhavetohaveachatwiththem.”
RockyHorrorPictureShowbroughtbackfondmemories.IusedtocosplayasRockyatthe
midnightshowings,because,naturally,thecharacter ’sperfectphysiquewasbasedonmyown.
“Letmeguess,”Isaid.“ConnorandTravisStollarethepranksters?”
Fromanearbybasket,Chirongrabbedaflannelblanketandspreaditoverhisfakelegs,though
therubyshoesstillpeekedoutatthebottom.“Actually,Traviswentofftocollegelastautumn,which
hasmellowedConnorquiteabit.”
MeglookedoverfromtheoldPac-Manarcadegame.“IpokedthatguyConnorintheeyes.”
Chironwinced.“That’snice,dear….Atanyrate,wehaveJuliaFeingoldandAliceMiyazawanow.
Theyhavetakenupprankingduty.You’llmeetthemsoonenough.”
IrecalledthegirlswhohadbeengigglingatmefromtheHermescabindoorway.Ifeltmyself
blushingalloveragain.
Chirongesturedtowardthecouches.“Pleasesit.”
MegmovedonfromPac-Man(havinggiventhegametwentysecondsofhertime)andbegan
literallyclimbingthewall.Dormantgrapevinesfestoonedthediningarea—nodoubttheworkofmy
oldfriendDionysus.Megscaledoneofthethickertrunks,tryingtoreachtheGorgon-hairchandelier.
“Ah,Meg,”Isaid,“perhapsyoushouldwatchtheorientationfilmwhileChironandItalk?”
“Iknowplenty,”shesaid.“Italkedtothecamperswhileyouwerepassedout.‘Safeplacefor
moderndemigods.’Blah,blah,blah.”
“Oh,butthefilmisverygood,”Iurged.“Ishotitonatightbudgetinthe1950s,butsomeofthe
cameraworkwasrevolutionary.Youshouldreally—”
Thegrapevinepeeledawayfromthewall.Megcrashedtothefloor.Shepoppedupcompletely
unscathed,thenspottedaplatterofcookiesonthesideboard.“Arethosefree?”
“Yes,child,”Chironsaid.“Bringtheteaaswell,wouldyou?”
SowewerestuckwithMeg,whodrapedherlegsoverthecouch’sarmrest,chompedoncookies,
andthrewcrumbsatSeymour ’ssnoringheadwheneverChironwasn’tlooking.
ChironpouredmeacupofDarjeeling.“I’msorryMr.Disnotheretowelcomeyou.”
“Mr.Dee?”Megasked.
“Dionysus,”Iexplained.“Thegodofwine.Alsothedirectorofthiscamp.”
Chironhandedmemytea.“AfterthebattlewithGaea,IthoughtMr.Dmightreturntocamp,but
heneverdid.Ihopehe’sallright.”
Theoldcentaurlookedatmeexpectantly,butIhadnothingtoshare.Thelastsixmonthswerea
completevoid;IhadnoideawhattheotherOlympiansmightbeupto.
“Idon’tknowanything,”Iadmitted.Ihadn’tsaidthosewordsveryofteninthelastfourmillennia.
Theytastedbad.Isippedmytea,butthatwasnolessbitter.“I’mabitbehindonthenews.Iwashoping
youcouldfillmein.”
Chirondidapoorjobhidinghisdisappointment.“Isee….”
Irealizedhehadbeenhopingforhelpandguidance—theexactsamethingsIneededfromhim.As
agod,Iwasusedtolesserbeingsrelyingonme—prayingforthisandpleadingforthat.Butnowthat
Iwasmortal,beingrelieduponwasalittleterrifying.
“Sowhatisyourcrisis?”Iasked.“YouhavethesamelookCassandrahadinTroy,orJimBowie
attheAlamo—asifyou’reundersiege.”
Chirondidnotdisputethecomparison.Hecuppedhishandsaroundhistea.
“YouknowthatduringthewarwithGaea,theOracleofDelphistoppedreceivingprophecies.In
fact,allknownmethodsofdiviningthefuturesuddenlyfailed.”
“BecausetheoriginalcaveofDelphiwasretaken,”Isaidwithasigh,tryingnottofeelpickedon.
MegbouncedachocolatechipoffSeymourtheleopard’snose.“OracleofDelphi.Percy
mentionedthat.”
“PercyJackson?”Chironsatup.“Percywaswithyou?”
“Foratime.”IrecountedourbattleinthepeachorchardandPercy’sreturntoNewYork.“Hesaid
hewoulddriveoutthisweekendifhecould.”
Chironlookeddisheartened,asifmycompanyalonewasn’tgoodenough.Canyouimagine?
“Atanyrate,”hecontinued,“wehopedthatoncethewarwasover,theOraclemightstartworking
again.Whenitdidnot…Rachelbecameconcerned.”
“Who’sRachel?”Megasked.
“RachelDare,”Isaid.“TheOracle.”
“ThoughttheOraclewasaplace.”
“Itis.”
“ThenRachelisaplace,andshestoppedworking?”
HadIstillbeenagod,Iwouldhaveturnedherintoablue-bellylizardandreleasedherintothe
wildernessnevertobeseenagain.Thethoughtsoothedme.
“TheoriginalDelphiwasaplaceinGreece,”Itoldher.“Acavernfilledwithvolcanicfumes,
wherepeoplewouldcometoreceiveguidancefrommypriestess,thePythia.”
“Pythia.”Meggiggled.“That’safunnyword.”
“Yes.Ha-ha.SotheOracleisbothaplaceandaperson.WhentheGreekgodsrelocatedto
Americabackin…whatwasit,Chiron,1860?”
Chironseesawedhishand.“Moreorless.”
“IbroughttheOracleheretocontinuespeakingpropheciesonmybehalf.Thepowerhaspassed
downfrompriestesstopriestessovertheyears.RachelDareisthepresentOracle.”
Fromthecookieplatter,MegpluckedtheonlyOreo,whichIhadbeenhopingtohavemyself.
“Mm-kay.Isittoolatetowatchthatmovie?”
“Yes,”Isnapped.“Now,thewayIgainedpossessionoftheOracleofDelphiinthefirstplacewas
bykillingthismonstercalledPythonwholivedinthedepthsofthecavern.”
“Apythonlikethesnake,”Megsaid.
“Yesandno.ThesnakespeciesisnamedafterPythonthemonster,whoisalsorathersnaky,but
whoismuchbiggerandscarieranddevourssmallgirlswhotalktoomuch.Atanyrate,lastAugust,
whileIwas…indisposed,myancientfoePythonwasreleasedfromTartarus.Hereclaimedthecaveof
Delphi.That’swhytheOraclestoppedworking.”
“ButiftheOracleisinAmericanow,whydoesitmatterifsomesnakemonstertakesoveritsold
cave?”
ThatwasaboutthelongestsentenceIhadyetheardherspeak.She’dprobablydoneitjusttospite
me.
“It’stoomuchtoexplain,”Isaid.“You’lljusthaveto—”
“Meg.”Chirongaveheroneofhisheroicallytolerantsmiles.“TheoriginalsiteoftheOracleis
likethedeepesttaprootofatree.Thebranchesandleavesofprophecymayextendacrosstheworld,
andRachelDaremaybeourloftiestbranch,butifthetaprootisstrangled,thewholetreeis
endangered.WithPythonbackinresidenceathisoldlair,thespiritoftheOraclehasbeencompletely
blocked.”
“Oh.”Megmadeafaceatme.“Whydidn’tyoujustsayso?”
BeforeIcouldstrangleherliketheannoyingtaprootshewas,Chironrefilledmyteacup.
“Thelargerproblem,”hesaid,“isthatwehavenoothersourceofprophecies.”
“Whocares?”Megasked.“Soyoudon’tknowthefuture.Nobodyknowsthefuture.”
“Whocares?!”Ishouted.“MegMcCaffrey,propheciesarethecatalystsforeveryimportantevent
—everyquestorbattle,disasterormiracle,birthordeath.Propheciesdon’tsimplyforetellthefuture.
Theyshapeit!Theyallowthefuturetohappen.”
“Idon’tgetit.”
Chironclearedhisthroat.“Imaginepropheciesareflowerseeds.Withtherightseeds,youcan
growanygardenyoudesire.Withoutseeds,nogrowthispossible.”
“Oh.”Megnodded.“Thatwouldsuck.”
IfounditstrangethatMeg,astreeturchinandDumpsterwarrior,wouldrelatesowelltogarden
metaphors,butChironwasanexcellentteacher.Hehadpickeduponsomethingaboutthegirl…an
impressionthathadbeenlurkinginthebackofmymindaswell.IhopedIwaswrongaboutwhatit
meant,butwithmyluck,Iwouldberight.Iusuallywas.
“SowhereisRachelDare?”Iasked.“PerhapsifIspokewithher…?”
Chironsetdownhistea.“Rachelplannedtovisitusduringherwintervacation,butsheneverdid.
Itmightnotmeananything….”
Ileanedforward.ItwasnotunheardofforRachelDaretobelate.Shewasartistic,unpredictable,
impulsive,andrule-averse—allqualitiesIdearlyadmired.Butitwasn’tlikehernottoshowupatall.
“Or?”Iasked.
“Oritmightbepartofthelargerproblem,”Chironsaid.“Propheciesarenottheonlythingsthat
havefailed.Travelandcommunicationhavebecomedifficultinthelastfewmonths.Wehaven’t
heardfromourfriendsatCampJupiterinweeks.Nonewdemigodshavearrived.Satyrsaren’t
reportingfromthefield.Irismessagesnolongerwork.”
“Iriswhat?”Megasked.
“Two-wayvisions,”Isaid.“Aformofcommunicationoverseenbytherainbowgoddess.Irishas
alwaysbeenflighty….”
“Exceptthatnormalhumancommunicationsarealsoonthefritz,”Chironsaid.“Ofcourse,
phoneshavealwaysbeendangerousfordemigods—”
“Yeah,theyattractmonsters,”Megagreed.“Ihaven’tusedaphoneinforever.”
“Awisemove,”Chironsaid.“Butrecentlyourphoneshavestoppedworkingaltogether.Mobile,
landline,Internet…itdoesn’tseemtomatter.Eventhearchaicformofcommunicationknownasemailisstrangelyunreliable.Themessagessimplydon’tarrive.”
“Didyoulookinthejunkfolder?”Ioffered.
“Ifeartheproblemismorecomplicated,”Chironsaid.“Wehavenocommunicationwiththe
outsideworld.Wearealoneandunderstaffed.Youarethefirstnewcomersinalmosttwomonths.”
Ifrowned.“PercyJacksonmentionednothingofthis.”
“IdoubtPercyisevenaware,”Chironsaid.“He’sbeenbusywithschool.Winterisnormallyour
quietesttime.Forawhile,Iwasabletoconvincemyselfthatthecommunicationfailureswerenothing
butaninconvenienthappenstance.Thenthedisappearancesstarted.”
Inthefireplace,alogslippedfromtheandiron.Imayormaynothavejumpedinmyseat.
“Thedisappearances,yes.”IwipeddropsofteafrommypantsandtriedtoignoreMeg’s
snickering.“Tellmeaboutthose.”
“Threeinthelastmonth,”Chironsaid.“FirstitwasCecilMarkowitzfromtheHermescabin.One
morninghisbunkwassimplyempty.Hedidn’tsayanythingaboutwantingtoleave.Noonesawhim
go.Andinthepastfewweeks,noonehasseenorheardfromhim.”
“ChildrenofHermesdotendtosneakaround,”Ioffered.
“Atfirst,that’swhatwethought,”saidChiron.“Butaweeklater,EllisWakefielddisappeared
fromtheArescabin.Samestory:emptybunk,nosignsthathehadeitherleftonhisownorwas…ah,
taken.Elliswasanimpetuousyoungman.Itwasconceivablehemighthavechargedoffonsomeilladvisedadventure,butitmademeuneasy.Thenthismorningwerealizedathirdcamperhad
vanished:MirandaGardiner,headoftheDemetercabin.Thatwastheworstnewsofall.”
Megswungherfeetoffthearmrest.“Whyisthattheworst?”
“Mirandaisoneofourseniorcounselors,”Chironsaid.“Shewouldneverleaveonherown
withoutnotice.Sheistoosmarttobetrickedawayfromcamp,andtoopowerfultobeforced.Yet
somethinghappenedtoher…somethingIcan’texplain.”
Theoldcentaurfacedme.“Somethingisverywrong,Apollo.Theseproblemsmaynotbeas
alarmingastheriseofKronosortheawakeningofGaea,butinawayIfindthemevenmore
unsettling,becauseIhaveneverseenanythinglikethisbefore.”
Irecalledmydreamoftheburningsunbus.IthoughtofthevoicesI’dheardinthewoods,urging
metowanderoffandfindtheirsource.
“Thesedemigods…”Isaid.“Beforetheydisappeared,didtheyactunusualinanyway?Didthey
report…hearingthings?”
Chironraisedaneyebrow.“NotthatIamawareof.Why?”
Iwasreluctanttosaymore.Ididn’twanttocauseapanicwithoutknowingwhatwewerefacing.
Whenmortalspanic,itcanbeanuglyscene,especiallyiftheyexpectmetofixtheproblem.
Also,IwilladmitIfeltabitimpatient.Wehadnotyetaddressedthemostimportantissues—mine.
“Itseemstome,”Isaid,“thatourfirstpriorityistobendallthecamp’sresourcestohelpingme
regainmydivinestate.ThenIcanassistyouwiththeseotherproblems.”
Chironstrokedhisbeard.“Butwhatiftheproblemsareconnected,myfriend?Whatiftheonly
waytorestoreyoutoOlympusisbyreclaimingtheOracleofDelphi,thusfreeingthepowerof
prophecy?WhatifDelphiisthekeytoitall?”
IhadforgottenaboutChiron’stendencytolayoutobviousandlogicalconclusionsthatItriedto
avoidthinkingabout.Itwasaninfuriatinghabit.
“Inmypresentstate,that’simpossible.”IpointedatMeg.“Rightnow,myjobistoservethis
demigod,probablyforayear.AfterI’vedonewhatevertaskssheassignsme,Zeuswilljudgethatmy
sentencehasbeenserved,andIcanonceagainbecomeagod.”
MegpulledapartaFigNewton.“IcouldorderyoutogotothisDelphiplace.”
“No!”Myvoicecrackedinmidshriek.“Youshouldassignmeeasytasks—likestartingarock
band,orjusthangingout.Yes,hangingoutisgood.”
Meglookedunconvinced.“Hangingoutisn’tatask.”
“Itisifyoudoitright.CampHalf-BloodcanprotectmewhileIhangout.Aftermyyearof
servitudeisup,I’llbecomeagod.ThenwecantalkabouthowtorestoreDelphi.”
Preferably,Ithought,byorderingsomedemigodstoundertakethequestforme.
“Apollo,”Chironsaid,“ifdemigodskeepdisappearing,wemaynothaveayear.Wemaynothave
thestrengthtoprotectyou.And,forgiveme,butDelphiisyourresponsibility.”
Itossedupmyhands.“Iwasn’ttheonewhoopenedtheDoorsofDeathandletPythonout!Blame
Gaea!BlameZeusforhisbadjudgment!Whenthegiantsstartedtowake,Idrewupaveryclear
Twenty-PointPlanofActiontoProtectApolloandAlsoYouOtherGods,buthedidn’tevenreadit!”
MegtossedhalfofhercookieatSeymour ’shead.“Istillthinkit’syourfault.Hey,look!He’s
awake!”
Shesaidthisasiftheleopardhaddecidedtowakeuponhisownratherthanbeingbeanedinthe
eyewithaFigNewton.
“RARR,”Seymourcomplained.
Chironwheeledhischairbackfromthetable.“Mydear,inthatjaronthemantel,you’llfindsome
Snausages.Whydon’tyoufeedhimdinner?ApolloandIwillwaitontheporch.”
WeleftMeghappilymakingthree-pointshotsintoSeymour ’smouthwiththetreats.
OnceChironandIreachedtheporch,heturnedhiswheelchairtofaceme.“She’saninteresting
demigod.”
“Interestingissuchanonjudgmentalterm.”
“Shereallysummonedakarpos?”
“Well…thespiritappearedwhenshewasintrouble.Whethersheconsciouslysummonedit,I
don’tknow.ShenamedhimPeaches.”
Chironscratchedhisbeard.“Ihavenotseenademigodwiththepowertosummongrainspiritsin
averylongtime.Youknowwhatitmeans?”
Myfeetbegantoquake.“Ihavemysuspicions.I’mtryingtostaypositive.”
“Sheguidedyououtofthewoods,”Chironnoted.“Withouther—”
“Yes,”Isaid.“Don’tremindme.”
ItoccurredtomethatI’dseenthatkeenlookinChiron’seyesbefore—whenhe’dassessed
Achilles’sswordtechniqueandAjax’sskillwithaspear.Itwasthelookofaseasonedcoachscouting
newtalent.I’dneverdreamedthecentaurwouldlookatmethatway,asifIhadsomethingtoproveto
him,asifmymettlewereuntested.Ifeltso…soobjectified.
“Tellme,”Chironsaid,“whatdidyouhearinthewoods?”
Isilentlycursedmybigmouth.Ishouldnothaveaskedwhetherthemissingdemigodshadheard
anythingstrange.
Idecideditwasfruitlesstoholdbacknow.Chironwasmoreperceptivethanyouraveragehorseman.ItoldhimwhatI’dexperiencedintheforest,andafterwardinmydream.
Hishandscurledintohislapblanket.Thebottomofitrosehigherabovehisredsequinedpumps.
Helookedaboutasworriedasitispossibleforamantolookwhilewearingfishnetstockings.
“Wewillhavetowarnthecamperstostayawayfromtheforest,”hedecided.“Idonotunderstand
whatishappening,butIstillmaintainitmustbeconnectedtoDelphi,andyourpresent…ah,situation.
TheOraclemustbeliberatedfromthemonsterPython.Wemustfindaway.”
Itranslatedthateasilyenough:Imustfindaway.
Chironmusthavereadmydesolateexpression.
“Come,come,oldfriend,”hesaid.“Youhavedoneitbefore.Perhapsyouarenotagodnow,but
thefirsttimeyoukilledPythonitwasnochallengeatall!Hundredsofstorybookshavepraisedthe
wayyoueasilyslewyourenemy.”
“Yes,”Imuttered.“Hundredsofstorybooks.”
Irecalledsomeofthosestories:IhadkilledPythonwithoutbreakingasweat.Iflewtothemouth
ofthecave,calledhimout,unleashedanarrow,andBOOM!—onedeadgiantsnakemonster.Ibecame
LordofDelphi,andwealllivedhappilyeverafter.
HowdidstorytellersgettheideathatIvanquishedPythonsoquickly?
Allright…possiblyit’sbecauseItoldthemso.Still,thetruthwasratherdifferent.Forcenturies
afterourbattle,Ihadbaddreamsaboutmyoldfoe.
NowIwasalmostgratefulformyimperfectmemory.Icouldnotrecollectallofthenightmarish
detailsofmyfightwithPython,butIdidknowhehadbeennopushover.Ihadneededallmygodly
strength,mydivinepowers,andtheworld’smostdeadlybow.
WhatchancewouldIhaveasasixteen-year-oldmortalwithacne,hand-me-downclothes,andthe
nomdeguerreLesterPapadopoulos?IwasnotgoingtochargeofftoGreeceandgetmyselfkilled,
thankyouverymuch,especiallynotwithoutmysunchariotortheabilitytoteleport.I’msorry;gods
donotflycommercial.
ItriedtofigureouthowtoexplainthistoChironinacalm,diplomaticwaythatdidnotinvolve
stompingmyfeetorscreaming.Iwassavedfromtheeffortbythesoundofaconchhorninthe
distance.
“Thatmeansdinner.”Thecentaurforcedasmile.“Wewilltalkmorelater,eh?Fornow,let’s
celebrateyourarrival.”
Odetoahotdog
Withbugjuiceandtaterchips
Igotnothing,man
IWASNOTINTHEMOODTOCELEBRATE.
Especiallysittingatapicnictableeatingmortalfood.Withmortals.
Thediningpavilionwaspleasantenough.Eveninwinter,thecamp’smagicalbordersshieldedus
fromtheworstoftheelements.Sittingoutdoorsinthewarmthofthetorchesandbraziers,Ifeltonly
slightlychilly.LongIslandSoundglitteredinthelightofthemoon.(Hello,Artemis.Don’tbotherto
sayhi.)OnHalf-BloodHill,theAthenaParthenosglowedliketheworld’slargestnightlight.Eventhe
woodsdidnotseemsocreepywiththepinetreesblanketedinsoftsilveryfog.
Mydinner,however,waslessthanpoetic.Itconsistedofhotdogs,potatochips,andaredliquidI
wastoldwasbugjuice.Ididnotknowwhyhumansconsumedbugjuice,orfromwhichtypeofbugit
hadbeenextracted,butitwasthetastiestpartofthemeal,whichwasdisconcerting.
IsatattheApollotablewithmychildrenAustin,Kayla,andWill,plusNicodiAngelo.Icouldsee
nodifferencebetweenmytableandanyoftheothergods’tables.Mineshouldhavebeenshinierand
moreelegant.Itshouldhaveplayedmusicorrecitedpoetryuponcommand.Insteaditwasjustaslab
ofstonewithbenchesoneitherside.Ifoundtheseatinguncomfortable,thoughmyoffspringdidn’t
seemtomind.
AustinandKaylapepperedmewithquestionsaboutOlympus,thewarwithGaea,andwhatitfelt
liketobeagodandthenahuman.Iknewtheydidnotmeantoberude.Asmychildren,theywere
inherentlyinclinedtotheutmostgrace.However,theirquestionswerepainfulremindersofmyfallen
status.
Besides,asthehourspassed,Irememberedlessandlessaboutmydivinelife.Itwasalarming
howfastmycosmicallyperfectneuronshaddeteriorated.Once,eachmemoryhadbeenlikeahighdefinitionaudiofile.Nowthoserecordingswereonwaxcylinders.Andbelieveme,Irememberwax
cylinders.Theydidnotlastlonginthesunchariot.
WillandNicosatshouldertoshoulder,banteringgood-naturedly.Theyweresocutetogetherit
mademefeeldesolate.ItjoggedmymemoriesofthosefewshortgoldenmonthsI’dsharedwith
Hyacinthusbeforethejealousy,beforethehorribleaccident…
“Nico,”Isaidatlast,“shouldn’tyoubesittingattheHadestable?”
Heshrugged.“Technically,yes.ButifIsitaloneatmytable,strangethingshappen.Cracksopen
inthefloor.Zombiescrawloutandstartroamingaround.It’samooddisorder.Ican’tcontrolit.
That’swhatItoldChiron.”
“Andisittrue?”Iasked.
Nicosmiledthinly.“Ihaveanotefrommydoctor.”
Willraisedhishand.“I’mhisdoctor.”
“Chirondecideditwasn’twortharguingabout,”Nicosaid.“AslongasIsitatatablewithother
people,like…oh,theseguysforinstance…thezombiesstayaway.Everybody’shappier.”
Willnoddedserenely.“It’sthestrangestthing.NotthatNicowouldevermisusehispowerstoget
whathewants.”
“Ofcoursenot,”Nicoagreed.
Iglancedacrossthediningpavilion.Aspercamptradition,Meghadbeenplacedwiththechildren
ofHermes,sincehergodlyparentagehadnotyetbeendetermined.Megdidn’tseemtomind.Shewas
busyre-creatingtheConeyIslandHotDogEatingContestallbyherself.Theothertwogirls,Julia
andAlice,watchedherwithamixtureoffascinationandhorror.
Acrossthetablefromhersatanolderskinnyboywithcurlybrownhair—ConnorStoll,I
deduced,thoughI’dneverbeenabletotellhimapartfromhisolderbrother,Travis.Despitethe
darkness,Connorworesunglasses,nodoubttoprotecthiseyesfromarepeatpoking.Ialsonotedthat
hewiselykepthishandsawayfromMeg’smouth.
Intheentirepavilion,Icountednineteencampers.Mostsataloneattheirrespectivetables—
ShermanYangforAres;agirlIdidnotknowforAphrodite;anothergirlforDemeter.AttheNike
table,twodark-hairedyoungladieswhowereobviouslytwinsconversedoverawarmap.Chiron
himself,againinfullcentaurform,stoodattheheadtable,sippinghisbugjuiceashechattedwith
twosatyrs,buttheirmoodwassubdued.Thegoat-menkeptglancingatme,theneatingtheir
silverware,assatyrstendtodowhennervous.Halfadozengorgeousdryadsmovedbetweenthe
tables,offeringfoodanddrink,butIwassopreoccupiedIcouldn’tfullyappreciatetheirbeauty.Even
moretragic:Ifelttooembarrassedtoflirtwiththem.Whatwaswrongwithme?
Istudiedthecampers,hopingtospotsomepotentialservants…Imeannewfriends.Godsalways
liketokeepafewstrongveterandemigodshandytothrowintobattle,sendondangerousquests,or
pickthelintoffourtogas.Unfortunately,nooneatdinnerjumpedoutatmeasalikelyminion.I
longedforabiggerpooloftalent.
“Wherearethe…others?”IaskedWill.
IwantedtosaytheA-List,butIthoughtthatmightbetakenthewrongway.
Willtookabiteofhispizza.“Wereyoulookingforsomebodyinparticular?”
“Whatabouttheoneswhowentonthatquestwiththeboat?”
WillandNicoexchangedalookthatmighthavemeant,Herewego.Isupposetheygotaskedalot
aboutthesevenlegendarydemigodswhohadfoughtsidebysidewiththegodsagainstGaea’sgiants.
ItpainedmethatIhadnotgottentoseethoseheroesagain.Afteranymajorbattle,Ilikedtogeta
groupphoto—alongwithexclusiverightstocomposeepicballadsabouttheirexploits.
“Well,”Nicostarted,“yousawPercy.HeandAnnabetharespendingtheirsenioryearinNew
York.HazelandFrankareatCampJupiterdoingtheTwelfthLegionthing.”
“Ah,yes.”ItriedtobringupaclearmentalpictureofCampJupiter,theRomanenclavenear
Berkeley,California,butthedetailswerehazy.Icouldonlyremembermyconversationswith
Octavian,thewayhe’dturnedmyheadwithhisflatteryandpromises.Thatstupidboy…itwashis
faultIwashere.
Avoicewhisperedinthebackofmymind.ThistimeIthoughtitmightbemyconscience:Who
wasthestupidboy?Itwasn’tOctavian.
“Shutup,”Imurmured.
“What?”Nicoasked.
“Nothing.Continue.”
“JasonandPiperarespendingtheschoolyearinLosAngeleswithPiper ’sdad.TheytookCoach
Hedge,Mellie,andLittleChuckwiththem.”
“Uh-huh.”Ididnotknowthoselastthreenames,soIdecidedtheyprobablyweren’timportant.
“Andtheseventhhero…LeoValdez?”
Nicoraisedhiseyebrows.“Yourememberhisname?”
“Ofcourse!HeinventedtheValdezinator.Oh,whatamusicalinstrument!Ibarelyhadtimeto
masteritsmajorscalesbeforeZeuszappedmeattheParthenon.Ifanyonecouldhelpme,itwouldbe
LeoValdez.”
Nico’sexpressiontightenedwithannoyance.“Well,Leoisn’there.Hedied.Thenhecamebackto
life.AndifIseehimagain,I’llkillhim.”
Willelbowedhim.“No,youwon’t.”Heturnedtome.“DuringthefightwithGaea,Leoandhis
bronzedragon,Festus,disappearedinamidairfieryexplosion.”
Ishivered.Aftersomanycenturiesdrivingthesunchariot,thetermmidairfieryexplosiondidnot
sitwellwithme.
ItriedtorememberthelasttimeI’dseenLeoValdezonDelos,whenhe’dtradedtheValdezinator
forinformation….
“Hewaslookingforthephysician’scure,”Irecalled,“thewaytobringsomeonebackfromthe
dead.Isupposeheplannedallalongtosacrificehimself?”
“Yep,”Willsaid.“HegotridofGaeaintheexplosion,butweallassumedhediedtoo.”
“Becausehedid,”Nicosaid.
“Then,afewdayslater,”Willcontinued,“thisscrollcameflutteringintocamponthewind….”
“Istillhaveit.”Nicorummagedthroughthepocketsofhisbomberjacket.“IlookatitwheneverI
wanttogetangry.”
Heproducedathickparchmentscroll.Assoonashespreaditonthetable,aflickeringhologram
appearedabovethesurface:LeoValdez,lookingimpishasusualwithhisdarkwispyhair,his
mischievousgrin,andhisdiminutivestature.(Ofcourse,thehologramwasonlythreeinchestall,but
eveninreallifeLeowasnotmuchmoreimposing.)Hisjeans,blueworkshirt,andtoolbeltwere
speckledwithmachineoil.
“Hey,guys!”Leospreadhisarmsforahug.“Sorrytoleaveyoulikethat.Badnews:Idied.Good
news:Igotbetter!IhadtogorescueCalypso.We’rebothfinenow.We’retakingFestusto—”The
imagegutteredlikeaflameinastrongbreeze,disruptingLeo’svoice.“Backassoonas—”Static.
“Cooktacoswhen—”Morestatic.“¡Vayaconqueso!Loveya!”Theimagewinkedout.
“That’sallwegot,”Nicocomplained.“AndthatwasinAugust.Wehavenoideawhathewas
planning,whereheisnow,orwhetherhe’sstillsafe.JasonandPiperspentmostofSeptember
lookingforhimuntilChironfinallyinsistedtheygostarttheirschoolyear.”
“Well,”Isaid,“itsoundslikeLeowasplanningtocooktacos.Perhapsthattooklongerthanhe
anticipated.Andvayaconqueso…Ibelieveheisadmonishingustogowithcheese,whichisalways
soundadvice.”
ThisdidnotseemtoreassureNico.
“Idon’tlikebeinginthedark,”hemuttered.
AnoddcomplaintforachildofHades,butIunderstoodwhathemeant.I,too,wascuriousto
knowthefateofLeoValdez.Onceuponatime,Icouldhavedivinedhiswhereaboutsaseasilyasyou
mightcheckaFacebooktimeline,butnowIcouldonlystareattheskyandwonderwhenasmall
impishdemigodmightappearwithabronzedragonandaplateoftacos.
AndifCalypsowasinvolved…thatcomplicatedthings.ThesorceressandIhadarockyhistory,
butevenIhadtoadmitshewasbeguiling.Ifshe’dcapturedLeo’sheart,itwasentirelypossiblehe
hadgottensidetracked.Odysseusspentsevenyearswithherbeforereturninghome.
Whateverthecase,itseemedunlikelythatValdezwouldbebackintimetohelpme.Myquestto
mastertheValdezinator ’sarpeggioswouldhavetowait.
KaylaandAustinhadbeenveryquiet,followingourconversationwithwonderandamazement.
(Mywordshavethateffectonpeople.)
NowKaylascootedtowardme.“WhatdidyouguystalkaboutintheBigHouse?Chirontoldyou
aboutthedisappearances…?”
“Yes.”Itriedtoavoidlookinginthedirectionofthewoods.“Wediscussedthesituation.”
“And?”Austinspreadhisfingersonthetable.“What’sgoingon?”
Ididn’twanttotalkaboutit.Ididn’twantthemtoseemyfear.
Iwishedmyheadwouldstoppounding.OnOlympus,headachesweresomucheasiertocure.
Hephaestussimplysplitone’sskullopenandextractedwhatevernewborngodorgoddesshappened
tobebangingaroundinthere.Inthemortalworld,myoptionsweremorelimited.
“Ineedtimetothinkaboutit,”Isaid.“PerhapsinthemorningI’llhavesomeofmygodlypowers
back.”
Austinleanedforward.Inthetorchlight,hiscornrowsseemedtotwistintonewDNApatterns.“Is
thathowitworks?Yourstrengthcomesbackovertime?”
“I—Ithinkso.”ItriedtoremembermyyearsofservitudewithAdmetusandLaomedon,butI
couldbarelyconjuretheirnamesandfaces.Mycontractingmemoryterrifiedme.Itmadeeach
momentofthepresentballooninsizeandimportance,remindingmethattimeformortalswas
limited.
“Ihavetogetstronger,”Idecided.“Imust.”
Kaylasqueezedmyhand.Herarcher ’sfingerswereroughandcalloused.“It’sokay,Apollo…
Dad.We’llhelpyou.”
Austinnodded.“Kayla’sright.We’reinthistogether.Ifanybodygivesyoutrouble,Kaylawill
shootthem.ThenI’llcursethemsobadthey’llbespeakinginrhymingcoupletsforweeks.”
Myeyeswatered.Notsolongago—likethismorning,forinstance—theideaoftheseyoung
demigodsbeingabletohelpmewouldhavestruckmeasridiculous.Nowtheirkindnessmovedme
morethanahundredsacrificialbulls.Icouldn’trecallthelasttimesomeonehadcaredaboutme
enoughtocursemyenemieswithrhymingcouplets.
“Thankyou,”Imanaged.
Icouldnotaddmychildren.Itdidn’tseemright.Thesedemigodsweremyprotectorsandmy
family,butforthepresentIcouldnotthinkofmyselfastheirfather.Afathershoulddomore—a
fathershouldgivemoretohischildrenthanhetakes.Ihavetoadmitthatthiswasanovelideaforme.
Itmademefeelevenworsethanbefore.
“Hey…”Willpattedmyshoulder.“It’snotsobad.Atleastwitheverybodybeingonhighalert,we
mightnothavetodoHarley’sobstaclecoursetomorrow.”
KaylamutteredanancientGreekcurse.IfIhadbeenapropergodlyfather,Iwouldhavewashed
hermouthoutwitholiveoil.
“Iforgotallaboutthat,”shesaid.“They’llhavetocancelit,won’tthey?”
Ifrowned.“Whatobstaclecourse?Chironmentionednothingaboutthis.”
Iwantedtoobjectthatmyentiredayhadbeenanobstaclecourse.Surelytheycouldn’texpectme
todotheircampactivitiesaswell.BeforeIcouldsayasmuch,oneofthesatyrsblewaconchhornat
theheadtable.
Chironraisedhisarmsforattention.
“Campers!”Hisvoicefilledthepavilion.Hecouldbequiteimpressivewhenhewantedtobe.“I
haveafewannouncements,includingnewsabouttomorrow’sthree-leggeddeathrace!”
Three-leggeddeathrace
Fiveterriblesyllables
Oh,gods.PleasenotMeg
ITWASALLHARLEY’SFAULT.
AfteraddressingthedisappearanceofMirandaGardiner—“Asaprecautionarymeasure,please
stayawayfromthewoodsuntilweknowmore”—ChironcalledforwardtheyoungsonofHephaestus
toexplainhowthethree-leggeddeathracewouldwork.ItquicklybecameapparentthatHarleyhad
mastermindedthewholeproject.And,really,theideawassohorrifying,itcouldonlyhavesprung
fromthemindofaneight-year-oldboy.
IconfessIlosttrackofthespecificsafterheexplainedtheexplodingchain-sawFrisbees.
“Andthey’llbelike,ZOOM!”Hebouncedupanddownwithexcitement.“AndthenBUZZ!And
POW!”Hepantomimedallsortsofchaoswithhishands.“Youhavetobereallyquickoryou’lldie,
andit’sawesome!”
Theothercampersgrumbledandshiftedontheirbenches.
Chironraisedhishandforsilence.“Now,Iknowtherewereproblemslasttime,”hesaid,“but
fortunatelyourhealersintheApollocabinwereabletoreattachPaolo’sarms.”
Atatableinback,amuscularteenboyroseandbeganrantinginwhatIthoughtwasPortuguese.
Heworeawhitetanktopoverhisdarkchest,andIcouldseefaintwhitescarsaroundthetopsofhis
biceps.Cursingrapidly,hepointedatHarley,theApollocabin,andprettymucheveryoneelse.
“Ah,thankyou,Paolo,”Chironsaid,clearlybaffled.“I’mgladyouarefeelingbetter.”
Austinleanedtowardmeandwhispered,“PaolounderstandsEnglishokay,butheonlyspeaks
Portuguese.Atleast,that’swhatheclaims.Noneofuscanunderstandawordhesays.”
Ididn’tunderstandPortugueseeither.AthenahadbeenlecturingusforyearsabouthowMount
OlympusmightmigratetoBrazilsomeday,andweshouldallbepreparedforthepossibility.She’d
evenboughtthegodsBerlitzPortugueseDVDsforSaturnaliapresents,butwhatdoesAthenaknow?
“Paoloseemsagitated,”Inoted.
Willshrugged.“He’sluckyhe’safasthealer—sonofHebe,goddessofyouth,andallthat.”
“You’restaring,”Niconoted.
“Iamnot,”Willsaid.“IammerelyassessinghowwellPaolo’sarmsarefunctioningafter
surgery.”
“Hmph.”
Paolofinallysatdown.Chironwentthroughalonglistofotherinjuriestheyhadexperienced
duringthefirstthree-leggeddeathrace,allofwhichhehopedtoavoidthistime:second-degree
burns,bursteardrums,apulledgroin,andtwocasesofchronicIrishstepdancing.
ThelonedemigodattheAthenatableraisedhishand.“Chiron,justgoingtothrowthisout
there….We’vehadthreecampersdisappear.Isitreallywisetoberunningadangerousobstacle
course?”
Chirongavehimapainedsmile.“Anexcellentquestion,Malcolm,butthiscoursewillnottake
youintothewoods,whichwebelieveisthemosthazardousarea.Thesatyrs,dryads,andIwill
continuetoinvestigatethedisappearances.Wewillnotrestuntilourmissingcampersarefound.In
themeantime,however,thisthree-leggedracecanfosterimportantteam-buildingskills.Italso
expandsourunderstandingoftheLabyrinth.”
ThewordsmackedmeinthefacelikeAres’sbodyodor.IturnedtoAustin.“TheLabyrinth?Asin
Daedalus’sLabyrinth?”
Austinnodded,hisfingersworryingtheceramiccampbeadsaroundhisneck.Ihadasudden
memoryofhismother,Latricia—thewaysheusedtofiddlewithhercowrynecklacewhenshe
lecturedatOberlin.EvenIlearnedthingsfromLatriciaLake’smusictheoryclass,thoughIhadfound
herdistractinglybeautiful.
“DuringthewarwithGaea,”Austinsaid,“themazereopened.We’vebeentryingtomapitever
since.”
“That’simpossible,”Isaid.“Alsoinsane.TheLabyrinthisamalevolentsentientcreation!Itcan’t
bemappedortrusted.”
Asusual,Icouldonlydrawonrandombitsandpiecesofmymemories,butIwasfairlycertainI
spokethetruth.IrememberedDaedalus.Backintheolddays,thekingofCretehadorderedhimto
buildamazetocontainthemonstrousMinotaur.But,ohno,asimplemazewasn’tgoodenoughfora
brilliantinventorlikeDaedalus.HehadtomakehisLabyrinthself-awareandself-expanding.Over
thecenturies,ithadhoneycombedundertheplanet’ssurfacelikeaninvasiverootsystem.
Stupidbrilliantinventors.
“It’sdifferentnow,”Austintoldme.“SinceDaedalusdied…Idon’tknow.It’shardtodescribe.
Doesn’tfeelsoevil.Notquiteasdeadly.”
“Oh,that’shugelyreassuring.Soofcourseyoudecidedtodothree-leggedracesthroughit.”
Willcoughed.“Theotherthing,Dad…NobodywantstodisappointHarley.”
Iglancedattheheadtable.Chironwasstillholdingforthaboutthevirtuesofteambuildingwhile
Harleybouncedupanddown.Icouldseewhytheothercampersmightadopttheboyastheir
unofficialmascot.Hewasacutelittlepipsqueak,evenifhewasscarilybuffforaneight-year-old.His
grinwasinfectious.Hisenthusiasmseemedtoliftthemoodoftheentiregroup.Still,Irecognizedthe
madgleaminhiseyes.Itwasthesamelookhisfather,Hephaestus,gotwheneverheinventedsome
automatonthatwouldlatergoberserkandstartdestroyingcities.
“Alsokeepinmind,”Chironwassaying,“thatnoneoftheunfortunatedisappearanceshasbeen
linkedtotheLabyrinth.Remainwithyourpartnerandyoushouldbesafe…atleast,assafeasonecan
beinathree-leggeddeathrace.”
“Yeah,”Harleysaid.“Nobodyhasevendiedyet.”Hesoundeddisappointed,asifhewantedusto
tryharder.
“Inthefaceofacrisis,”Chironsaid,“it’simportanttosticktoourregularactivities.Wemuststay
alertandintopcondition.Ourmissingcamperswouldexpectnolessfromus.Now,astotheteams
fortherace,youwillbeallowedtochooseyourpartner—”
Therefollowedasortofpiranhaattackofcamperslungingtowardeachothertograbtheir
preferredteammate.BeforeIcouldcontemplatemyoptions,MegMcCaffreypointedatmefrom
acrossthepavilion,herexpressionexactlylikeUncleSam’sintherecruitmentposter.
Ofcourse,Ithought.Whyshouldmyluckimprovenow?
Chironstruckhishoofagainstthefloor.“Allright,everyone,settledown!Theracewillbe
tomorrowafternoon.Thankyou,Harley,foryourhardworkonthe…um,variouslethalsurprisesin
store.”
“BLAM!”HarleyranbacktotheHephaestustabletojoinhisoldersister,Nyssa.
“Thisbringsustoourothernews,”Chironsaid.“Asyoumayhaveheard,twospecialnewcomers
joinedustoday.First,pleasewelcomethegodApollo!”
Normallythiswasmycuetostandup,spreadmyarms,andgrinasradiantlightshonearoundme.
Theadoringcrowdwouldapplaudandtossflowersandchocolatebonbonsatmyfeet.
ThistimeIreceivednoapplause—justnervouslooks.Ihadastrange,uncharacteristicimpulseto
slidelowerinmyseatandpullmycoatovermyhead.Irestrainedmyselfthroughheroiceffort.
Chironstruggledtomaintainhissmile.“Now,Iknowthisisunusual,”hesaid,“butgodsdo
becomemortalfromtimetotime.Youshouldnotbeoverlyalarmed.Apollo’spresenceamongus
couldbeagoodomen,achanceforusto…”Heseemedtolosetrackofhisownargument.“Ah…do
somethinggood.I’msurethebestcourseofactionwillbecomeclearintime.Fornow,pleasemake
Apollofeelathome.Treathimasyouwouldanyothernewcamper.”
AttheHermestable,ConnorStollraisedhishand.“DoesthatmeantheArescabinshouldstick
Apollo’sheadinatoilet?”
AttheArestable,ShermanYangsnorted.“Wedon’tdothattoeveryone,Connor.Justthenewbies
whodeserveit.”
ShermanglancedatMeg,whowasobliviouslyfinishingherlasthotdog.Thewispyblack
whiskersatthesidesofhermouthwerenowfrostedwithmustard.
ConnorStollgrinnedbackatSherman—aconspiratoriallookifeverIsawone.That’swhenI
noticedtheopenbackpackatConnor ’sfeet.Peekingfromthetopwassomethingthatlookedlikea
net.
Theimplicationsankin:twoboyswhomMeghadhumiliated,preparingforpayback.Ididn’t
havetobeNemesistounderstandtheallureofrevenge.Still…IfeltanodddesiretowarnMeg.
Itriedtocatchhereye,butsheremainedfocusedonherdinner.
“Thankyou,Sherman,”Chironcontinued.“It’sgoodtoknowyouwon’tbegivingthegodof
archeryaswirly.Asfortherestofyou,wewillkeepyoupostedonourguest’ssituation.I’msending
twoofourfinestsatyrs,MillardandHerbert”—hegesturedtothesatyrsonhisleft—“tohand-deliver
amessagetoRachelDareinNewYork.Withanyluck,shewillbeabletojoinussoonandhelp
determinehowwecanbestassistApollo.”
Therewassomegrumblingaboutthis.IcaughtthewordsOracleandprophecies.Atanearby
table,agirlmutteredtoherselfinItalian:Theblindleadingtheblind.
Iglaredather,buttheyoungladywasquitebeautiful.ShewasperhapstwoyearsolderthanI
(mortallyspeaking),withdarkpixiehairanddevastatinglyfiercealmondeyes.Imayhaveblushed.
Iturnedbacktomytablemates.“Um…yes,satyrs.Whynotsendthatothersatyr,thefriendof
Percy’s?”
“Grover?”Nicoasked.“He’sinCalifornia.ThewholeCouncilofClovenEldersisoutthere,
meetingaboutthedrought.”
“Oh.”Myspiritsfell.IrememberedGroverasbeingquiteresourceful,butifhewasdealingwith
California’snaturaldisasters,hewasunlikelytobebackanytimeinthenextdecade.
“Finally,”Chironsaid,“wewelcomeanewdemigodtocamp—MegMcCaffrey!”
Shewipedhermouthandstood.
Nexttoher,AliceMiyazawasaid,“Standup,Meg.”
JuliaFeingoldlaughed.
AttheArestable,ShermanYangrose.“Nowthisone—thisonedeservesaspecialwelcome.What
doyouthink,Connor?”
Connorreachedintohisbackpack.“Ithinkmaybethecanoelake.”
Istartedtosay,“Meg—”
ThenallHadesbrokeloose.
ShermanYangstrodetowardMeg.ConnorStollpulledoutagoldennetandthrewitoverher
head.Megyelpedandtriedtosquirmfree,whilesomeofthecamperschanted,“Dunk—her!Dunk—
her!”Chirondidhisbesttoshoutthemdown:“Now,demigods,waitamoment!”
Agutturalhowlinterruptedtheproceedings.Fromthetopofthecolonnade,ablurofchubby
flesh,leafywings,andlinendiaperhurtleddownwardandlandedonShermanYang’sback,knocking
himface-firstintothestonefloor.Peachesthekarposstoodandwailed,beatinghischest.Hiseyes
glowedgreenwithanger.HelaunchedhimselfatConnorStoll,lockedhisplumplegsaroundthe
demigod’sneck,andbeganpullingoutConnor ’shairwithhisclaws.
“Getitoff!”Connorwailed,thrashingblindlyaroundthepavilion.“Getitoff!”
Slowlytheotherdemigodsovercametheirshock.Severaldrewswords.
“C’èunkarpos!”yelledtheItaliangirl.
“Killit!”saidAliceMiyazawa.
“No!”Icried.
Normallysuchacommandfrommewould’veinitiatedaprisonlockdownsituation,withallthe
mortalsdroppingtotheirbelliestoawaitmyfurtherorders.Alas,nowIwasameremortalwitha
squeakyadolescentvoice.
IwatchedinhorrorasmyowndaughterKaylanockedanarrowinherbow.
“Peaches,getoffhim!”Megscreamed.Sheuntangledherselffromthenet,threwitdown,thenran
towardConnor.
ThekarposhoppedoffConnor ’sneck.HelandedatMeg’sfeet,baringhisfangsandhissingatthe
othercamperswhohadformedaloosesemicirclewithweaponsdrawn.
“Meg,getoutoftheway,”saidNicodiAngelo.“Thatthingisdangerous.”
“No!”Meg’svoicewasshrill.“Don’tkillhim!”
ShermanYangrolledover,groaning.Hisfacelookedworsethanitprobablywas—agashonthe
foreheadcanproduceashockingamountofblood—butthesightsteeledtheresolveoftheother
campers.Kayladrewherbow.JuliaFeingoldunsheathedadagger.
“Wait!”Ipleaded.
Whathappenednext,alessermindcouldneverhaveprocessed.
Juliacharged.Kaylashotherarrow.
Megthrustoutherhandsandfaintgoldlightflashedbetweenherfingers.Suddenlyyoung
McCaffreywasholdingtwoswords—eachacurvedbladeintheoldThracianstyle,siccaemadefrom
Imperialgold.IhadnotseensuchweaponssincethefalloftheRome.Theyseemedtohaveappeared
fromnowhere,butmylongexperiencewithmagicitemstoldmetheymusthavebeensummoned
fromthecrescentringsMegalwayswore.
Bothherbladeswhirled.MegsimultaneouslyslicedKayla’sarrowoutoftheairanddisarmed
Julia,sendingherdaggerskitteringacrossthefloor.
“WhattheHades?”Connordemanded.Hishairhadbeenpulledoutinchunkssohelookedlikean
abuseddoll.“Whoisthiskid?”
PeachescrouchedatMeg’sside,snarling,asMegfendedofftheconfusedandenrageddemigods
withhertwoswords.
Myvisionmusthavebeenbetterthantheaveragemortal’s,becauseIsawtheglowingsignfirst—
alightshiningaboveMeg’shead.
WhenIrecognizedthesymbol,myheartturnedtolead.IhatedwhatIsaw,butIthoughtIshould
pointitout.“Look.”
Theothersseemedconfused.Thentheglowbecamebrighter:aholographicgoldensicklewitha
fewsheavesofwheat,rotatingjustaboveMegMcCaffrey.
Aboyinthecrowdgasped.“She’sacommunist!”
Agirlwho’dbeensittingatCabinFour ’stablegavehimadisgustedsneer.“No,Damien,that’s
mymom’ssymbol.”Herfacewentslackasthetruthsankin.“Uh,whichmeans…it’shermom’s
symbol.”
Myheadspun.Ididnotwantthisknowledge.IdidnotwanttoserveademigodwithMeg’s
parentage.ButnowIunderstoodthecrescentsonMeg’srings.Theywerenotmoons;theyweresickle
blades.AstheonlyOlympianpresent,IfeltIshouldmakehertitleofficial.
“Myfriendisnolongerunclaimed,”Iannounced.
Theotherdemigodskneltinrespect,somemorereluctantlythanothers.
“Ladiesandgentlemen,”Isaid,myvoiceasbitterasChiron’stea,“pleasegiveitupforMeg
McCaffrey,daughterofDemeter.”
You’vegottobekid—
Well,crud,whatjusthappenedthere?
Iranoutofsyl—
NOONEKNEWWHATTOMAKEOFMEG.
Icouldn’tblamethem.
ThegirlmadeevenlesssensetomenowthatIknewwhohermotherwas.
I’dhadmysuspicions,yes,butI’dhopedtobeprovenwrong.Beingrightsomuchofthetime
wasaterribleburden.
WhywouldIdreadachildofDemeter?
Goodquestion.
Overthepastday,Ihadbeendoingmybesttopiecetogethermyremembrancesofthegoddess.
OnceDemeterhadbeenmyfavoriteaunt.Thatfirstgenerationofgodscouldbeastuffybunch(I’m
lookingatyou,Hera,Hades,Dad),butDemeterhadalwaysbeenakindandlovingpresence—except
whenshewasdestroyingmankindthroughpestilenceandfamine,buteveryonehastheirbaddays.
ThenImadethemistakeofdatingoneofherdaughters.IthinkhernamewasChrysothemis,but
you’llhavetoexcusemeifI’mwrong.EvenwhenIwasagod,Ihadtroublerememberingthenames
ofallmyexes.TheyoungwomansangaharvestsongatoneofmyDelphicfestivals.Hervoicewas
sobeautiful,Ifellinlove.True,Ifellinlovewitheachyear ’swinnerandtherunners-up,butwhatcan
Isay?I’masuckerforamelodiousvoice.
Demeterdidnotapprove.EversinceherdaughterPersephonewaskidnappedbyHades,she’d
beenalittletouchyaboutherchildrendatinggods.
Atanyrate,sheandIhadwords.Wereducedafewmountainstorubble.Welaidwastetoafew
city-states.Youknowhowfamilyargumentscanget.Finallywesettledintoanuneasytruce,butever
sincethenI’dmadeapointtosteerclearofDemeter ’schildren.
NowhereIwas—aservanttoMegMcCaffrey,themostragamuffindaughterofDemetereverto
swingasickle.
IwonderedwhoMeg’sfatherhadbeentoattracttheattentionofthegoddess.Demeterrarelyfell
inlovewithmortals.Megwasunusuallypowerful,too.MostchildrenofDemetercoulddolittle
morethanmakecropsgrowandkeepbacterialfungiatbay.Dual-wieldinggoldenbladesand
summoningkarpoi—thatwastop-shelfstuff.
AllofthiswentthroughmymindasChirondispersedthecrowd,urgingeveryonetoputaway
theirweapons.SinceheadcounselorMirandaGardinerwasmissing,ChironaskedBillieNg,theonly
othercamperfromDemeter,toescortMegtoCabinFour.Thetwogirlsmadeaquickretreat,
Peachesbouncingalongexcitedlybehindthem.Megshotmeaworriedlook.
Notsurewhatelsetodo,Igavehertwothumbs-up.“Seeyoutomorrow!”
Sheseemedlessthanencouragedasshedisappearedinthedarkness.
WillSolacetendedtoShermanYang’sheadinjuries.KaylaandAustinstoodoverConnor,
debatingtheneedforahairgraft.ThisleftmealonetomakemywaybacktotheMecabin.
Ilayonmysickcotinthemiddleoftheroomandstaredattheceilingbeams.Ithoughtagain
aboutwhatadepressinglysimple,utterlymortalplacethiswas.Howdidmychildrenstandit?Why
didtheynotkeepablazingaltar,anddecoratethewallswithhammeredgoldreliefscelebratingmy
glory?
WhenIheardWillandtheotherscomingback,Iclosedmyeyesandpretendedtobeasleep.I
couldnotfacetheirquestionsorkindnesses,theirattemptstomakemefeelathomewhenIclearlydid
notbelong.
Astheycameinthedoor,theygotquiet.
“Isheokay?”whisperedKayla.
Austinsaid,“Wouldyoube,ifyouwerehim?”
Amomentofsilence.
“Trytogetsomesleep,guys,”Willadvised.
“Thisiscrazyweird,”Kaylasaid.“Helooksso…human.”
“We’llwatchoutforhim,”Austinsaid.“We’reallhe’sgotnow.”
Iheldbackasob.Icouldn’tbeartheirconcern.Notbeingabletoreassurethem,orevendisagree
withthem,mademefeelverysmall.
Ablanketwasdrapedoverme.
Willsaid,“Sleepwell,Apollo.”
Perhapsitwashispersuasivevoice,orthefactthatIwasmoreexhaustedthanIhadbeenin
centuries.Immediately,Idriftedintounconsciousness.
ThanktheremainingelevenOlympians,Ihadnodreams.
Iwokeinthemorningfeelingstrangelyrefreshed.Mychestnolongerhurt.Mynosenolonger
feltlikeawaterballoonattachedtomyface.Withthehelpofmyoffspring(cabinmates—Iwillcall
themcabinmates),Imanagedtomasterthearcanemysteriesoftheshower,thetoilet,andthesink.
Thetoothbrushwasashock.ThelasttimeIwasmortal,therehadbeennosuchthing.Andunderarm
deodorant—whataghastlyideathatIshouldneedenchantedsalvetokeepmyarmpitsfrom
producingstench!
WhenIwasdonewithmymorningablutionsanddressedincleanclothesfromthecampstore—
sneakers,jeans,anorangeCampHalf-BloodT-shirt,andacomfywintercoatofflannelwool—Ifelt
almostoptimistic.PerhapsIcouldsurvivethishumanexperience.
IperkedupevenmorewhenIdiscoveredbacon.
Oh,gods—bacon!IpromisedmyselfthatonceIachievedimmortalityagain,Iwouldassemblethe
NineMusesandtogetherwewouldcreateanode,ahymnaltothepowerofbacon,whichwouldmove
theheavenstotearsandcauseraptureacrosstheuniverse.
Baconisgood.
Yes—thatmaybethetitleofthesong:“BaconIsGood.”
Seatingforbreakfastwaslessformalthandinner.Wefilledourtraysatabuffetlineandwere
allowedtositwhereverwewished.Ifoundthisdelightful.(Oh,whatasadcommentaryonmynew
mortalmindthatI,whooncedictatedthecourseofnations,shouldgetexcitedaboutopenseating.)I
tookmytrayandfoundMeg,whowassittingbyherselfontheedgeofthepavilion’sretainingwall,
danglingherfeetoverthesideandwatchingthewavesatthebeach.
“Howareyou?”Iasked.
Megnibbledonawaffle.“Yeah.Great.”
“Youareapowerfuldemigod,daughterofDemeter.”
“Mm-hm.”
IfIcouldtrustmyunderstandingofhumanresponses,Megdidnotseemthrilled.
“Yourcabinmate,Billie…Isshenice?”
“Sure.Allgood.”
“AndPeaches?”
Shelookedatmesideways.“Disappearedovernight.GuessheonlyshowsupwhenI’min
danger.”
“Well,that’sanappropriatetimeforhimtoshowup.”
“Ap-pro-pri-ate.”Megtouchedawafflesquareforeachsyllable.“ShermanYanghadtogetseven
stitches.”
IglancedoveratSherman,whosatatasafedistanceacrossthepavilion,glaringdaggersatMeg.
Anastyredzigzagrandownthesideofhisface.
“Iwouldn’tworry,”ItoldMeg.“Ares’schildrenlikescars.Besides,Shermanwearsthe
Frankensteinlookratherwell.”
Thecornerofhermouthtwitched,buthergazeremainedfaraway.“Ourcabinhasagrassfloor
—like,greengrass.There’sahugeoaktreeinthemiddle,holdinguptheceiling.”
“Isthatbad?”
“Ihaveallergies.”
“Ah…”Itriedtoimaginethetreeinhercabin.Onceuponatime,Demeterhadhadasacredgrove
ofoaks.Irememberedshe’dgottenquiteangrywhenamortalprincetriedtocutitdown.
Asacredgrove…
Suddenlythebaconinmystomachexpanded,wrappingaroundmyorgans.
Meggrippedmyarm.Hervoicewasadistantbuzz.Ionlyheardthelast,mostimportantword:
“—Apollo?”
Istirred.“What?”
“Youblankedout.”Shescowled.“Isaidyournamesixtimes.”
“Youdid?”
“Yeah.Wheredidyougo?”
Icouldnotexplain.IfeltasifI’dbeenstandingonthedeckofashipwhenanenormous,dark,and
dangerousshapepassedbeneaththehull—ashapealmostdiscernible,thensimplygone.
“I—Idon’tknow.Somethingabouttrees….”
“Trees,”Megsaid.
“It’sprobablynothing.”
Itwasn’tnothing.Icouldn’tshaketheimagefrommydreams:thecrownedwomanurgingmeto
findthegates.Thatwomanwasn’tDemeter—atleast,Ididn’tthinkso.Buttheideaofsacredtrees
stirredamemorywithinme…somethingveryold,evenbymystandards.
Ididn’twanttotalkaboutthiswithMeg,notuntilI’dhadtimetoreflect.Shehadenoughtoworry
about.Besides,afterlastnight,mynewyoungmastermadememoreapprehensivethanever.
Iglancedattheringsonhermiddlefingers.“Soyesterday…thoseswords.Anddon’tdothat
thing.”
Meg’seyebrowsfurrowed.“Whatthing?”
“Thatthingwhereyoushutdownandrefusetotalk.Yourfaceturnstocement.”
Shegavemeafuriouspout.“Itdoesnot.I’vegotswords.Ifightwiththem.Sowhat?”
“Soitmighthavebeennicetoknowthatearlier,whenwewereincombatwithplaguespirits.”
“Yousaidityourself:thosespiritscouldn’tbekilled.”
“You’residestepping.”IknewthisbecauseitwasatacticIhadmasteredcenturiesago.“Thestyle
youfightin,withtwocurvedblades,isthestyleofadimachaerus,agladiatorfromthelateRoman
Empire.Evenbackthen,itwasrare—possiblythemostdifficultfightingstyletomaster,andoneof
themostdeadly.”
Megshrugged.Itwasaneloquentshrug,butitdidnotoffermuchinthewayofexplanation.
“YourswordsareImperialgold,”Isaid.“ThatwouldindicateRomantraining,andmarkyouasa
goodprospectforCampJupiter.YetyourmotherisDemeter,thegoddessinherGreekform,not
Ceres.”
“Howdoyouknow?”
“AsidefromthefactthatIwasagod?DemeterclaimedyouhereatCampHalf-Blood.Thatwas
noaccident.Also,herolderGreekformismuchmorepowerful.You,Meg,arepowerful.”
HerexpressionturnedsoguardedIexpectedPeachestohurtlefromtheskyandstartpullingout
chunksofmyhair.
“Inevermetmymom,”shesaid.“Ididn’tknowwhoshewas.”
“Thenwheredidyougettheswords?Yourfather?”
Megtoreherwaffleintotinypieces.“No….Mystepdadraisedme.Hegavemetheserings.”
“Yourstepfather.YourstepfathergaveyouringsthatturnintoImperialgoldenswords.Whatsort
ofman—”
“Agoodman,”shesnapped.
InotedthesteelinMeg’svoiceandletthesubjectrest.Isensedagreattragedyinherpast.Also,I
fearedthatifIpressedmyquestions,Imightfindthosegoldenbladesatmyneck.
“I’msorry,”Isaid.
“Mm-hm.”Megtossedapieceofwaffleintotheair.Outofnowhere,oneofthecamp’scleaning
harpiesswoopeddownlikeatwo-hundred-poundkamikazechicken,snatchedupthefood,andflew
away.
Megcontinuedasifnothinghadhappened.“Let’sjustgetthroughtoday.We’vegottheraceafter
lunch.”
Ashiverrandownmyneck.ThelastthingIwantedwastobestrappedtoMegMcCaffreyinthe
Labyrinth,butImanagedtoavoidscreaming.
“Don’tworryabouttherace,”Isaid.“Ihaveaplanforhowtowinit.”
Sheraisedaneyebrow.“Yeah?”
“Orrather,Iwillhaveaplanbythisafternoon.AllIneedisalittletime—”
Behindus,theconchhornblew.
“Morningbootcamp!”ShermanYangbellowed.“Let’sgo,youspecialsnowflakes!Iwantyouall
intearsbylunchtime!”
Practicemakesperfect
Ha,ha,ha,Idon’tthinkso
Ignoremysobbing
IWISHEDIHADADOCTOR’SNOTE.IwantedtobeexcusedfromPE.
Honestly,Iwillneverunderstandyoumortals.Youtrytomaintaingoodphysicalshapewithpushups,sit-ups,five-mileruns,obstaclecourses,andotherhardworkthatinvolvessweating.Allthe
while,youknowitisalosingbattle.Eventuallyyourweak,limited-usebodieswilldeteriorateand
fail,givingyouwrinkles,saggingparts,andold-personbreath.
It’shorrific!IfIwanttochangeshape,orage,orgender,orspecies,Isimplywishittohappen
and—ka-bam!—Iamayoung,large,femalethree-toedsloth.Noamountofpush-upswillaccomplish
that.Isimplydon’tseethelogicinyourconstantstruggles.Exerciseisnothingmorethana
depressingreminderthatoneisnotagod.
BytheendofShermanYang’sbootcamp,Iwasgaspinganddrenchedinsweat.Mymusclesfelt
likequiveringcolumnsofgelatinousdessert.
Ididnotfeellikeaspecialsnowflake(thoughmymother,Leto,alwaysassuredmeIwasone),and
IwassorelytemptedtoaccuseShermanofnottreatingmeassuch.
IgrumbledaboutthistoWill.IaskedwheretheoldheadcounselorofAreshadgone.ClarisseLa
RueIcouldatleastcharmwithmydazzlingsmile.Alas,Willreportedshewasattendingthe
UniversityofArizona.Oh,whydoescollegehavetohappentoperfectlygoodpeople?
Afterthetorture,Istaggeredbacktomycabinandtookanothershower.
Showersaregood.Perhapsnotasgoodasbacon,butgood.
Mysecondmorningsessionwaspainfulforadifferentreason.Iwasassignedtomusiclessonsin
theamphitheaterwithasatyrnamedWoodrow.
Woodrowseemednervoustohavemejoinhislittleclass.Perhapshehadheardthelegendabout
myskinningthesatyrMarsyasaliveafterhechallengedmetoamusiccontest.(AsIsaid,theflaying
partwastotallyuntrue,butrumorsdohaveamazingstayingpower,especiallywhenImayhavebeen
guiltyofspreadingthem.)
Usinghispanpipe,Woodrowreviewedtheminorscales.Austinhadnoproblemwiththese,even
thoughhewaschallenginghimselfbyplayingtheviolin,whichwasnothisinstrument.Valentina
Diaz,adaughterofAphrodite,didherbesttothrottleaclarinet,producingsoundslikeabassethound
whimperinginathunderstorm.DamienWhite,sonofNemesis,liveduptohisnamesakebywreaking
vengeanceonanacousticguitar.HeplayedwithsuchforcethathebroketheDstring.
“Youkilledit!”saidChiaraBenvenuti.ShewastheprettyItaliangirlI’dnoticedthenightbefore—
achildofTyche,goddessofgoodfortune.“Ineededtousethatguitar!”
“Shutup,Lucky,”Damienmuttered.“Intherealworld,accidentshappen.Stringssnap
sometimes.”
Chiaraunleashedsomerapid-fireItalianthatIdecidednottotranslate.
“MayI?”Ireachedfortheguitar.
Damienreluctantlyhandeditover.IleanedtowardtheguitarcasebyWoodrow’sfeet.Thesatyr
leapedseveralinchesintotheair.
Austinlaughed.“Relax,Woodrow.He’sjustgettinganotherstring.”
I’lladmitIfoundthesatyr ’sreactiongratifying.IfIcouldstillscaresatyrs,perhapstherewas
hopeformereclaimingsomeofmyformerglory.FromhereIcouldworkmywayuptoscaring
farmanimals,thendemigods,monsters,andminordeities.
Inamatterofseconds,Ihadreplacedthestring.Itfeltgoodtodosomethingsofamiliarand
simple.Iadjustedthepitch,butstoppedwhenIrealizedValentinawassobbing.
“Thatwassobeautiful!”Shewipedatearfromhercheek.“Whatwasthatsong?”
Iblinked.“It’scalledtuning.”
“Yeah,Valentina,controlyourself,”Damienchided,thoughhiseyeswerered.“Itwasn’tthat
beautiful.”
“No.”Chiarasniffled.“Itwasn’t.”
OnlyAustinseemedunaffected.Hiseyesshonewithwhatlookedlikepride,thoughIdidn’t
understandwhyhewouldfeelthatway.
IplayedaCminorscale.TheBstringwasflat.It’salwaystheBstring.Threethousandyearssince
Iinventedtheguitar(duringawildpartywiththeHittites—longstory),andIstillcouldn’tfigureout
howtomakeaBstringthatstaysintune.
Iranthroughtheotherscales,delightedthatIstillrememberedthem.
“NowthisisaLydianprogression,”Isaid.“Itstartsonthefourthofthemajorscale.Theysayit’s
calledLydianaftertheoldkingdomofLydia,butactually,Inameditforanoldgirlfriendofmine,
Lydia.ShewasthefourthwomanIdatedthatyear,so…”
Ilookedupmid-arpeggio.DamienandChiarawereweepingineachother ’sarms,hittingeach
otherweaklyandcursing,“Ihateyou.Ihateyou.”
Valentinalayontheamphitheaterbench,silentlyshaking.Woodrowwaspullingaparthis
panpipes.
“I’mworthless!”hesobbed.“Worthless!”
EvenAustinhadatearinhiseye.Hegavemeathumbs-up.
Iwasthrilledthatsomeofmyoldskillremainedintact,butIimaginedChironwouldbeannoyed
ifIdrovetheentiremusicclassintomajordepression.
IpulledtheDstringslightlysharp—atrickIusedtousetokeepmyadoringfansfromexploding
inraptureatmyconcerts.(AndImeanliterallyexploding.SomeofthosegigsattheFillmoreinthe
1960s…well,I’llspareyouthegruesomedetails.)
Istrummedachordthatwasintentionallyoutoftune.Tomeitsoundedawful,butthecampers
stirredfromtheirmisery.Theysatup,wipedtheirtears,andwatchedinfascinationasIplayeda
simpleone-four-fiveprogression.
“Yeah,man.”Austinbroughthisviolintohischinandbegantoimprovise.Hisresinbowdanced
acrossthestrings.HeandIlockedeyes,andforamomentweweremorethanfamily.Webecamepart
ofthemusic,communicatingonalevelonlygodsandmusicianswilleverunderstand.
Woodrowbrokethespell.
“That’samazing,”thesatyrsobbed.“Youtwoshouldbeteachingtheclass.WhatwasIthinking?
Pleasedon’tflayme!”
“Mydearsatyr,”Isaid,“Iwouldnever—”
Suddenly,myfingersspasmed.Idroppedtheguitarinsurprise.Theinstrumenttumbleddownthe
stonestepsoftheamphitheater,clangingandsproinging.
Austinloweredhisbow.“Youokay?”
“I…yes,ofcourse.”
ButIwasnotokay.Forafewmoments,Ihadexperiencedtheblissofmyformerlyeasytalent.
Yet,clearly,mynewmortalfingerswerenotuptothetask.Myhandmusclesweresore.Redlinesdug
intomyfingerpadswhereIhadtouchedthefretboard.Ihadoverextendedmyselfinotherways,too.
Mylungsfeltshriveled,drainedofoxygen,eventhoughIhaddonenosinging.
“I’m…tired,”Isaid,dismayed.
“Well,yeah.”Valentinanodded.“Thewayyouwereplayingwasunreal!”
“It’sokay,Apollo,”Austinsaid.“You’llgetstronger.Whendemigodsusetheirpowers,especially
atfirst,theygettiredquickly.”
“ButI’mnot…”
Icouldn’tfinishthesentence.Iwasn’tademigod.Iwasn’tagod.Iwasn’tevenmyself.Howcould
Ieverplaymusicagain,knowingthatIwasaflawedinstrument?Eachnotewouldbringmenothing
butpainandexhaustion.MyBstringwouldneverbeintune.
Mymiserymusthaveshownonmyface.
DamienWhiteballedhisfists.“Don’tyouworry,Apollo.It’snotyourfault.I’llmakethatstupid
guitarpayforthis!”
Ididn’ttrytostophimashemarcheddownthestairs.Partofmetookperversesatisfactioninthe
wayhestompedtheguitaruntilitwasreducedtokindlingandwires.
Chiarahuffed.“Idiota!NowI’llnevergetmyturn!”
Woodrowwinced.“Well,um…thanks,everyone!Goodclass!”
Archerywasanevenbiggertravesty.
IfIeverbecomeagodagain(no,notif;when,when),myfirstactwillbetowipethememoriesof
everyonewhosawmeembarrassmyselfinthatclass.Ihitonebull’s-eye.One.Thegroupingonmy
othershotswasabysmal.Twoarrowsactuallyhitoutsidetheblackringatamereonehundredmeters.
Ithrewdownmybowandweptwithshame.
Kaylawasourclassinstructor,butherpatienceandkindnessonlymademefeelworse.She
scoopedupmybowandoffereditbacktome.
“Apollo,”shesaid,“thoseshotswerefantastic.Alittlemorepracticeand—”
“I’mthegodofarchery!”Iwailed.“Idon’tpractice!”
Nexttome,thedaughtersofNikesnickered.
TheyhadtheinsufferablyappropriatenamesHollyandLaurelVictor.Theyremindedmeofthe
gorgeous,ferociouslyathleticAfricannymphsAthenausedtohangoutwithatLakeTritonis.
“Hey,ex-god,”Hollysaid,nockinganarrow,“practiceistheonlywaytoimprove.”Shescoreda
sevenontheredring,butshedidnotseematalldiscouraged.
“Foryou,maybe,”Isaid.“You’reamortal!”
Hersister,Laurel,snorted.“Soareyounow.Suckitup.Winnersdon’tcomplain.”Sheshother
arrow,whichlandednexttohersister ’sbutjustinsidetheredring.“That’swhyI’mbetterthanHolly.
She’salwayscomplaining.”
“Yeah,right,”Hollygrowled.“TheonlythingIcomplainaboutishowlameyouare.”
“Oh,yeah?”saidLaurel.“Let’sgo.Rightnow.Besttwooutofthreeshots.Theloserscrubsthe
toiletsforamonth.”
“You’reon!”
Justlikethat,theyforgotaboutme.Theydefinitelywould’vemadeexcellentTritoniannymphs.
Kaylatookmebythearmandledmedownrange.“Thosetwo,Iswear.WemadethemNikecocounselorssothey’dcompetewitheachother.Ifwehadn’t,theywould’vetakenoverthecampby
nowandproclaimedadictatorship.”
Isupposeshewastryingtocheermeup,butIwasnotconsoled.
Istaredatmyfingers,nowblisteredfromarcheryaswellassorefromguitar.Impossible.
Agonizing.
“Ican’tdothis,Kayla,”Imuttered.“I’mtoooldtobesixteenagain!”
Kaylacuppedherhandovermine.Beneaththegreenshockofherhair,shehadaginger
complexion—likecreampaintedovercopper,theauburnsheenpeekingthroughinthefrecklesofher
faceandarms.Sheremindedmeverymuchofherfather,theCanadianarcherycoachDarren
Knowles.
Imeanherotherfather.And,yes,ofcourseit’spossibleforademigodchildtospringfromsuch
arelationship.Whynot?ZeusgavebirthtoDionysusoutofhisownthigh.Athenaoncehadachild
whowascreatedfromahandkerchief.Whyshouldsuchthingssurpriseyou?Wegodsarecapableof
infinitemarvels.
Kaylatookadeepbreath,asifpreparingforanimportantshot.“Youcandoit,Dad.You’re
alreadygood.Verygood.You’vejustgottoadjustyourexpectations.Bepatient;bebrave.You’llget
better.”
Iwastemptedtolaugh.HowcouldIgetusedtobeingmerelygood?WhywouldIstrainmyselfto
getbetterwhenbeforeIhadbeendivine?
“No,”Isaidbitterly.“No,itistoopainful.IswearupontheRiverStyx—untilIamagodagain,I
willnotuseaboworamusicalinstrument!”
Goaheadandchideme.Iknowitwasafoolishoath,spokeninamomentofmiseryandself-pity.
Anditwasbinding.AnoathswornontheRiverStyxcanhaveterribleconsequencesifbroken.
ButIdidn’tcare.Zeushadcursedmewithmortality.Iwasnotgoingtopretendthateverything
wasnormal.IwouldnotbeApollountilIwasreallyApollo.Fornow,Iwasjustastupidyoungman
namedLesterPapadopoulos.MaybeIwouldwastemytimeonskillsIdidn’tcareabout—likesword
fightingorbadminton—butIwouldnotsullythememoryofmyonce-perfectmusicandarchery.
Kaylastaredatmeinhorror.“Dad,youdon’tmeanit.”
“Ido!”
“Takeitback!Youcan’t…”Sheglancedovermyshoulder.“Whatishedoing?”
Ifollowedhergaze.
ShermanYangwaswalkingslowly,trancelike,intothewoods.
Itwouldhavebeenfoolhardytorunafterhim,straightintothemostdangerouspartofcamp.
Sothat’sexactlywhatKaylaandIdid.
Wealmostdidn’tmakeit.Assoonaswereachedthetreeline,theforestdarkened.The
temperaturedropped.Thehorizonstretchedoutasifbentthroughamagnifyingglass.
Awomanwhisperedinmyear.ThistimeIknewthevoicewell.Ithadneverstoppedhauntingme.
Youdidthistome.Come.Chasemeagain.
Fearrolledthroughmystomach.
Iimaginedthebranchesturningtoarms;theleavesundulatedlikegreenhands.
Daphne,Ithought.
Evenaftersomanycenturies,theguiltwasoverwhelming.Icouldnotlookatatreewithout
thinkingofher.Forestsmademenervous.Thelifeforceofeachtreeseemedtobeardownonme
withrighteoushatred,accusingmeofsomanycrimes….Iwantedtofalltomyknees.Iwantedtobeg
forgiveness.Butthiswasnotthetime.
Icouldn’tallowthewoodstoconfusemeagain.Iwouldnotletanyoneelsefallintoitstrap.
Kayladidn’tseemaffected.Igrabbedherhandtomakesurewestayedtogether.Weonlyhadtogo
afewsteps,butitfeltlikeabootcamprunbeforewereachedShermanYang.
“Sherman.”Igrabbedhisarm.
Hetriedtoshakemeoff.Fortunately,hewassluggishanddazed,orIwouldhaveendedupwith
scarsofmyown.Kaylahelpedmeturnhimaround.
Hiseyestwitchedasifhewereinsomesortofhalf-consciousREMsleep.“No.Ellis.Gottofind
him.Miranda.Mygirl.”
IglancedatKaylaforexplanation.
“EllisisfromtheArescabin,”shesaid.“He’soneofthemissing.”
“Yes,butMiranda,hisgirl?”
“Shermanandshestarteddatingaboutaweekago.”
“Ah.”
Shermanstruggledtofreehimself.“Findher.”
“Mirandaisrightoverhere,myfriend,”Ilied.“We’lltakeyouthere.”
Hestoppedfighting.Hiseyesrolleduntilonlythewhiteswerevisible.“Over…here?”
“Yes.”
“Ellis?”
“Yes,it’sme,”Isaid.“I’mEllis.”
“Iloveyou,man,”Shermansobbed.
Still,ittookallourstrengthtoleadhimoutofthetrees.IwasremindedofthetimeHephaestus
andIhadtowrestlethegodHypnosbacktobedafterhesleepwalkedintoArtemis’sprivatechambers
onMountOlympus.It’sawonderanyofusescapedwithoutsilverarrowspincushioningour
posteriors.
WeledShermantothearcheryrange.Betweenonestepandthenext,heblinkedhiseyesand
becamehisnormalself.Henoticedourhandsonhisarmsandshookusoff.
“Whatisthis?”hedemanded.
“Youwerewalkingintothewoods,”Isaid.
Hegaveushisdrillsergeantglower.“No,Iwasn’t.”
Kaylareachedforhim,thenobviouslythoughtbetteraboutit.Archerywouldbedifficultwith
brokenfingers.“Sherman,youwereinsomekindoftrance.YouweremutteringaboutEllisand
Miranda.”
AlongSherman’scheek,hiszigzagscardarkenedtobronze.“Idon’trememberthat.”
“Althoughyoudidn’tmentiontheothermissingcamper,”Iaddedhelpfully.“Cecil?”
“WhywouldImentionCecil?”Shermangrowled.“Ican’tstandtheguy.AndwhyshouldIbelieve
you?”
“Thewoodshadyou,”Isaid.“Thetreeswerepullingyouin.”
Shermanstudiedtheforest,butthetreeslookednormalagain.Thelengtheningshadowsand
swayinggreenhandsweregone.
“Look,”Shermansaid,“Ihaveaheadinjury,thankstoyourannoyingfriendMeg.IfIwasacting
strange,that’swhy.”
Kaylafrowned.“But—”
“Enough!”Shermansnapped.“Ifeitherofyoumentionthis,I’llmakeyoueatyourquivers.Idon’t
needpeoplequestioningmyself-control.Besides,I’vegottheracetothinkabout.”
Hebrushedpastus.
“Sherman,”Icalled.
Heturned,hisfistsclenched.
“Thelastthingyouremember,”Isaid,“beforeyoufoundyourselfwithus…whatwereyou
thinkingabout?”
Foramicrosecond,thedazedlookpassedacrosshisfaceagain.“AboutMirandaandEllis…like
yousaid.Iwasthinking…Iwantedtoknowwheretheywere.”
“Youwereaskingaquestion,then.”Ablanketofdreadsettledoverme.“Youwanted
information.”
“I…”
Atthediningpavilion,theconchhornblew.
Sherman’sexpressionhardened.“Doesn’tmatter.Dropit.We’vegotlunchnow.ThenI’mgoing
todestroyyouallinthethree-leggeddeathrace.”
Asthreatswent,Ihadheardworse,butShermanmadeitsoundintimidatingenough.Hemarched
offtowardthepavilion.
Kaylaturnedtome.“Whatjusthappened?”
“IthinkIunderstandnow,”Isaid.“Iknowwhythosecamperswentmissing.”
TiedtoMcCaffrey
WemightendupinLima
Harleyisevil
NOTETOSELF:tryingtorevealimportantinformationjustbeforeathree-leggeddeathraceisnot
agoodidea.
Noonewouldlistentome.
Despitelastnight’sgrumblingandcomplaining,thecamperswerenowbuzzingwithexcitement.
Theyspenttheirlunchhourfranticallycleaningweapons,lacingarmorstraps,andwhisperingamong
oneanothertoformsecretalliances.ManytriedtoconvinceHarley,thecoursearchitect,toshare
hintsaboutthebeststrategies.
Harleylovedtheattention.Bytheendoflunch,histablewaspiledhighwithofferings(read:
bribes)—chocolatebars,peanutbuttercups,gummybears,andHotWheels.Harleywouldhavemade
anexcellentgod.Hetookthegifts,mumbledafewpleasantries,buttoldhisworshippersnothing
helpful.
ItriedtospeakwithChironaboutthedangersofthewoods,buthewassofranticwithlast-minute
racepreparationsthatIalmostgottrampledjuststandingnearhim.Hetrottednervouslyaroundthe
pavilionwithateamofsatyranddryadrefereesintow,comparingmapsandissuingorders.
“Theteamswillbealmostimpossibletotrack,”hemurmured,hisfaceburiedinaLabyrinth
schematic.“Andwedon’thaveanycoverageingridD.”
“But,Chiron,”Isaid,“ifIcouldjust—”
“ThetestgroupthismorningendedupinPeru,”hetoldthesatyrs.“Wecan’thavethathappen
again.”
“Aboutthewoods,”Isaid.
“Yes,I’msorry,Apollo.Iunderstandyouareconcerned—”
“Thewoodsareactuallyspeaking,”Isaid.“Youremembertheold—”
AdryadranuptoChironwithherdressbillowingsmoke.“Theflaresareexploding!”
“Yegods!”Chironsaid.“Thosewereforemergencies!”
Hegallopedovermyfeet,followedbyhismobofassistants.
Andsoitwent.Whenoneisagod,theworldhangsonyoureveryword.Whenoneissixteen…
notsomuch.
ItriedtotalktoHarley,hopinghemightpostponetherace,buttheboybrushedmeoffwitha
simple“Nah.”
AswassooftenthecasewithHephaestus’schildren,Harleywastinkeringwithsomemechanical
device,movingthespringsandgearsaround.Ididn’treallycarewhatitwas,butIaskedHarleyabout
it,hopingtowintheboy’sgoodwill.
“It’sabeacon,”hesaid,adjustingaknob.“Forlostpeople.”
“YoumeantheteamsintheLabyrinth?”
“No.Youguysareonyourown.ThisisforLeo.”
“LeoValdez.”
Harleysquintedatthedevice.“Sometimes,ifyoucan’tfindyourwayback,abeaconcanhelp.Just
gottofindtherightfrequency.”
“And…howlonghaveyoubeenworkingonthis?”
“Sincehedisappeared.NowIgottaconcentrate.Can’tstoptherace.”Heturnedhisbackonmeand
walkedoff.
Istaredafterhiminamazement.Forsixmonths,theboyhadbeenworkingonabeacontohelphis
missingbrotherLeo.IwonderedifanyonewouldworksohardtobringmebackhometoOlympus.I
verymuchdoubtedit.
Istoodforlornlyinacornerofthepavilionandateasandwich.Iwatchedthesunwaneinthe
winterskyandIthoughtaboutmychariot,mypoorhorsesstuckintheirstableswithnoonetotake
themoutforaride.
Ofcourse,evenwithoutmyhelp,otherforceswouldkeepthecosmoschuggingalong.Many
differentbeliefsystemspoweredtherevolutionoftheplanetsandstars.WolveswouldstillchaseSol
acrossthesky.Rawouldcontinuehisdailyjourneyinhissunbarque.Tonatiuhwouldkeeprunning
onhissurplusbloodfromhumansacrificesbackintheAztecdays.Andthatotherthing—science—
wouldstillgenerategravityandquantumphysicsandwhatever.
Nevertheless,IfeltlikeIwasn’tdoingmypart,standingaroundwaitingforathree-leggedrace.
EvenKaylaandAustinweretoodistractedtotalkwithme.KaylahadtoldAustinaboutour
experiencerescuingShermanYangfromthewoods,butAustinwasmoreinterestedinswabbingout
hissaxophone.
“WecantellChironatdinner,”hemumbledwithareedinhismouth.“Nobody’sgoingtolisten
untiltheraceisover,andwe’llbestayingoutofthewoodsanyway.Besides,ifIcanplaytheright
tuneintheLabyrinth…”Hegotagleaminhiseyes.“Ooh.Comehere,Kayla.Ihaveanidea.”
Hesteeredherawayandleftmealoneagain.
IunderstoodAustin’senthusiasm,ofcourse.Hissaxophoneskillsweresoformidable,Iwas
certainhewouldbecometheforemostjazzinstrumentalistofhisgeneration,andifyouthinkit’seasy
togethalfamillionviewsonYouTubeplayingjazzsaxophone,thinkagain.Still,hismusicalcareer
wasnotgoingtohappeniftheforceinthewoodsdestroyedusall.
Asalastresort(averylastresort),IsoughtoutMegMcCaffrey.
Ispottedheratoneofthebraziers,talkingwithJuliaFeingoldandAliceMiyazawa.Orrather,the
HermesgirlsweretalkingwhileMegdevouredacheeseburger.ImarveledthatDemeter—thequeen
ofgrains,fruits,andvegetables—couldhaveadaughterwhowassuchanunrepentantcarnivore.
Thenagain,Persephonewasthesameway.You’llhearstoriesaboutthegoddessofspringtime
beingallsweetnessanddaffodilsandnibblingonpomegranateseeds,butI’mtellingyou,thatgirl
wasfrighteningwhensheattackedamoundofporkspareribs.
IstrodeovertoMeg’sside.TheHermesgirlssteppedbackasifIwereasnakehandler.Ifound
thisreactionpleasing.
“Hello,”Isaid.“Whatarewetalkingabout?”
Megwipedhermouthonthebackofherhand.“Thesetwowannaknowourplansfortherace.”
“I’msuretheydo.”IpluckedasmallmagneticlisteningdevicefromMeg’scoatsleeveandtossed
itbacktoAlice.
Alicesmiledsheepishly.“Can’tblameusfortrying.”
“No,ofcoursenot,”Isaid.“Inthesamespirit,Ihopeyouwon’tmindwhatIdidtoyourshoes.
Haveagoodrace!”
Thegirlsshuffledoffnervously,checkingthesolesoftheirsneakers.
Meglookedatmewithsomethingresemblingrespect.“Whatdidyoudotothem?”
“Nothing,”Isaid.“Halfthetricktobeingagodisknowinghowtobluff.”
Shesnorted.“Sowhat’sourtopsecretplan?Wait.Letmeguess.Youdon’thaveone.”
“You’relearning.Honestly,Imeanttocomeupwithone,butIgotsidetracked.Wehavea
problem.”
“Suredo.”Fromhercoatpocket,shepulledtwoloopsofbronze,likeresistancebandsofbraided
metal.“You’veseenthese?Theywraparoundourlegs.Oncethey’reon,theystayonuntiltheraceis
over.Nowaytogetthemoff.Ihaterestraints.”
“Iagree.”IwastemptedtoaddespeciallywhenIamtiedtoasmallchildnamedMeg,butmy
naturaldiplomacywonout.“However,Iwasreferringtoadifferentproblem.”
Itoldherabouttheincidentduringarchery,whenShermanhadalmostbeenluredintotheforest.
Megremovedhercat-eyeglasses.Withoutthelenses,herdarkiriseslookedsofterandwarmer,
liketinyplotsofplantingsoil.“Youthinksomethinginthewoodsiscallingtopeople?”
“Ithinksomethinginthewoodsisansweringpeople.Inancienttimes,therewasanOracle—”
“Yeah,youtoldme.Delphi.”
“No.AnotherOracle,evenolderthanDelphi.Itinvolvedtrees.Anentiregroveoftalkingtrees.”
“Talkingtrees.”Meg’smouthtwitched.“WhatwasthatOraclecalled?”
“I—Ican’tremember.”Igroundmyteeth.“Ishouldknow.Ishouldbeabletotellyouinstantly!
Buttheinformation…It’salmostasifitiseludingmeonpurpose.”
“Thathappenssometimes,”Megsaid.“You’llthinkofit.”
“Butitneverhappenstome!Stupidhumanbrain!Atanyrate,Ibelievethisgroveissomewherein
thosewoods.Idon’tknowhoworwhy.Butthewhisperingvoices…theyarefromthishiddenOracle.
Thesacredtreesaretryingtospeakprophecies,reachingouttothosewithburningquestions,luring
themin.”
Megputherglassesbackon.“Youknowthatsoundscrazy,right?”
Isteadiedmybreathing.IhadtoremindmyselfthatIwasnolongeragod.Ihadtoputupwith
insultsfrommortalswithoutbeingabletoblastthemtoashes.
“Justbeonguard,”Isaid.
“Buttheracedoesn’tevengothroughthewoods.”
“Nevertheless…wearenotsafe.IfyoucansummonyourfriendPeaches,Iwouldwelcomehis
company.”
“Itoldyou,hesortofpopsupwhenhefeelslikeit.Ican’t—”
Chironblewahuntinghornsoloudlymyvisiondoubled.Anotherpledgetomyself:onceI
becameagodagain,Iwoulddescenduponthiscampandtakeawayalltheirhorns.
“Demigods!”saidthecentaur.“Tieyourlegstogetherandfollowmetoyourstartingpositions!”
WegatheredinameadowaboutahundredyardsfromtheBigHouse.Makingitthatfarwithouta
singlelife-threateningincidentwasaminormiracle.WithmyleftlegboundtoMeg’sright,Ifeltthe
wayIusedtoinLeto’swombjustbeforemysisterandIwereborn.And,yes,Irememberthatquite
well.Artemiswasalwaysshovingmeaside,elbowingmeintheribsandgenerallybeingawomb
hog.
IsaidasilentprayerthatifIgotthroughthisracealive,Iwouldsacrificeabulltomyselfand
possiblyevenbuildmyselfanewtemple.Iamasuckerforbullsandtemples.
Thesatyrsdirectedustospreadoutacrossthemeadow.
“Whereisthestartingline?”HollyVictordemanded,shovinghershoulderaheadofhersister ’s.
“Iwanttobetheclosest.”
“Iwanttobeclosest,”Laurelcorrected.“Youcanbesecondclosest.”
“Nottoworry!”Woodrowthesatyrsoundedveryworried.“We’llexplaineverythingina
moment.AssoonasI,um,knowwhattoexplain.”
WillSolacesighed.Hewas,ofcourse,tiedtoNico.HeproppedhiselbowonNico’sshoulderas
ifthesonofHadeswereaconvenientshelf.“ImissGrover.Heusedtoorganizethingslikethisso
well.”
“I’dsettleforCoachHedge.”NicopushedWill’sarmoff.“Besides,don’ttalkaboutGrovertoo
loudly.Juniper ’srightoverthere.”
Hepointedtooneofthedryads—aprettygirldressedinpalegreen.
“Grover ’sgirlfriend,”Willexplainedtome.“Shemisseshim.Alot.”
“Okay,everybody!”Woodrowshouted.“Spreadoutalittlebitmore,please!Wewantyoutohave
plentyofroomso,youknow,ifyoudie,youwon’ttakedownalltheotherteamstoo!”
Willsighed.“Iamsoexcited.”
HeandNicolopedoff.JuliaandAlicefromtheHermescabincheckedtheirshoesonemoretime,
thenglaredatme.ConnorStollwaspairedwithPaoloMontes,theBraziliansonofHebe,andneither
ofthemseemedhappyaboutit.
PerhapsConnorlookedglumbecausehismangledscalpwascoveredinsomuchmedicinalsalve
hisheadlookedlikeithadbeencoughedupbyacat.OrperhapshejustmissedhisbrotherTravis.
AssoonasArtemisandIwereborn,wecouldn’twaittogetsomedistancebetweenus.Westaked
outourownterritoriesandthatwasthat.ButIwould’vegivenanythingtoseeherjustthen.Iwassure
Zeushadthreatenedherwithseverepunishmentifshetriedtohelpmeduringmytimeasamortal,
butshecouldhaveatleastsentmeacarepackagefromOlympus—adecenttoga,somemagicalacne
cream,andmaybeadozencranberryambrosiasconesfromtheScyllaCafe.Theymadeexcellent
scones.
Iscannedtheotherteams.KaylaandAustinwereboundtogether,lookinglikeadeadlypairof
streetperformerswithherbowandhissaxophone.Chiara,thecutegirlfromTyche,wasstuckwith
hernemesis,DamienWhite,sonof…well,Nemesis.BillieNgfromDemeterwasleg-tiedwith
ValentinaDiaz,whowashastilycheckinghermakeupinthereflectivesurfaceofBillie’ssilvercoat.
Valentinadidn’tseemtonoticethattwotwigsweresproutingfromherhairliketinydeerantlers.
IdecidedthebiggestthreatwouldbeMalcolmPace.Youcanneverbetoocarefulwithchildrenof
Athena.Surprisingly,though,he’dpairedhimselfwithShermanYang.Thatdidn’tseemlikeanatural
partnership,unlessMalcolmhadsomesortofplan.ThoseAthenachildrenalwayshadaplan.Itrarely
includedlettingmewin.
TheonlydemigodsnotparticipatingwereHarleyandNyssa,whohadsetupthecourse.
Oncethesatyrsjudgedwehadallspreadoutsufficientlyandourlegbindingshadbeendoublechecked,Harleyclappedforourattention.
“Okay!”Hebouncedupanddowneagerly,remindingmeoftheRomanchildrenwhousedto
cheerforexecutionsattheColosseum.“Here’sthedeal.Eachteamhastofindthreegoldenapples,
thengetbacktothismeadowalive.”
Grumblingbrokeoutamongthedemigods.
“Goldenapples,”Isaid.“Ihategoldenapples.Theybringnothingbuttrouble.”
Megshrugged.“Ilikeapples.”
Irememberedtherottenoneshe’dusedtobreakCade’snoseinthealley.Iwonderedifperhaps
shecouldusegoldenappleswiththesamedeadlyskill.Perhapswestoodachanceafterall.
LaurelVictorraisedherhand.“Youmeanthefirstteambackwins?”
“Anyteamthatgetsbackalivewins!”Harleysaid.
“That’sridiculous!”Hollysaid.“Therecanonlybeonewinner.Firstteambackwins!”
Harleyshrugged.“Haveityourway.Myonlyrulesarestayalive,anddon’tkilleachother.”
“Oquê?”PaolostartedcomplainingsoloudlyinPortuguesethatConnorhadtocoverhisleftear.
“Now,now!”Chironcalled.Hissaddlebagswereoverflowingwithextrafirst-aidkitsand
emergencyflares.“Wewon’tneedanyhelpmakingthisadangerouschallenge.Let’shaveagood
cleanthree-leggeddeathrace.Andanotherthing,campers,giventheproblemsourtestgrouphadthis
morning,pleaserepeatafterme:DonotendupinPeru.”
“DonotendupinPeru,”everyonechanted.
ShermanYangcrackedhisknuckles.“Sowhereisthestartingline?”
“Thereisnostartingline,”Harleysaidwithglee.“You’reallstartingfromrightwhereyouare.”
Thecamperslookedaroundinconfusion.Suddenlythemeadowshook.Darklinesetchedacross
thegrass,formingagiantgreencheckerboard.
“Havefun!”Harleysquealed.
Thegroundopenedbeneathourfeet,andwefellintotheLabyrinth.
Bowlingballsofdeath
Rollingtowardmyenemies
I’lltradeyouproblems
ATLEASTWEDIDNOTLANDINPERU.
Myfeethitstone,jarringmyankles.Westumbledagainstawall,butMegprovidedmewitha
convenientcushion.
Wefoundourselvesinadarktunnelbracedwithoakenbeams.Theholewe’dfallenthroughwas
gone,replacedbyanearthenceiling.Isawnosignoftheotherteams,butfromsomewhereaboveI
couldvaguelyhearHarleychanting,“Go!Go!Go!”
“WhenIgetmypowersback,”Isaid,“IwillturnHarleyintoaconstellationcalledtheAnkle
Biter.Atleastconstellationsaresilent.”
Megpointeddownthecorridor.“Look.”
Asmyeyesadjusted,Irealizedthetunnel’sdimlightemanatedfromaglowingpieceoffruit
aboutthirtymetersaway.
“Agoldenapple,”Isaid.
Meglurchedforward,pullingmewithher.
“Wait!”Isaid.“Theremightbetraps!”
Asiftoillustratemypoint,ConnorandPaoloemergedfromthedarknessattheotherendofthe
corridor.Paoloscoopedupthegoldenappleandshouted,“BRASIL!”
Connorgrinnedatus.“Tooslow,suckers!”
Theceilingopenedabovethem,showeringthemwithironorbsthesizeofcantaloupes.
Connoryelped,“Run!”
HeandPaoloexecutedanawkwardone-eightyandhobbledaway,hotlypursuedbyarollingherd
ofcannonballswithsparkingfuses.
Thesoundsquicklyfaded.Withouttheglowingapple,wewereleftintotaldarkness.
“Great.”Meg’svoiceechoed.“Nowwhat?”
“Isuggestwegotheotherdirection.”
Thatwaseasiersaidthandone.BeingblindseemedtobotherMegmorethanitdidme.Thanksto
mymortalbody,Ialreadyfeltcrippledanddeprivedofmysenses.Besides,Ioftenreliedonmore
thansight.Musicrequiredkeenhearing.Archeryrequiredasensitivetouchandtheabilitytofeelthe
directionofthewind.(Okay,sightwasalsohelpful,butyougettheidea.)
Weshuffledahead,ourarmsextendedinfrontofus.Ilistenedforsuspiciousclicks,snaps,or
creaksthatmightindicateanincomingflockofexplosions,butIsuspectedthatifIdidhearany
warningsigns,itwouldbetoolate.
EventuallyMegandIlearnedtowalkwithourboundlegsinsynchronicity.Itwasn’teasy.Ihada
flawlesssenseofrhythm.Megwasalwaysaquarterbeatsloworfast,whichkeptusveeringleftor
rightandrunningintowalls.
Welumberedalongforwhatmighthavebeenminutesordays.IntheLabyrinth,timewas
deceptive.
IrememberedwhatAustinhadtoldmeabouttheLabyrinthfeelingdifferentsincethedeathofits
creator.Iwasbeginningtounderstandwhathemeant.Theairseemedfresher,asifthemazehadn’t
beenchewingupquitesomanybodies.Thewallsdidn’tradiatethesamemalignantheat.AsfarasI
couldtell,theyweren’toozingbloodorslime,either,whichwasadefiniteimprovement.Intheold
days,youcouldn’ttakeastepinsideDaedalus’sLabyrinthwithoutsensingitsall-consumingdesire:I
willdestroyyourmindandyourbody.Nowtheatmospherewassleepier,themessagenotquiteas
virulent:Hey,ifyoudieinhere,that’scool.
“IneverlikedDaedalus,”Imuttered.“Thatoldrascaldidn’tknowwhentostop.Healwayshadto
havethelatesttech,themostrecentupdates.Itoldhimnottomakehismazeself-aware.‘A.I.will
destroyus,man,’Isaid.Butnoooo.HehadtogivetheLabyrinthamalevolentconsciousness.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout,”Megsaid.“Butmaybeyoushouldn’tbad-mouththe
mazewhilewe’reinsideit.”
Once,IstoppedwhenIheardthesoundofAustin’ssaxophone.Itwasfaint,echoingthroughso
manycorridorsIcouldn’tpinpointwhereitwascomingfrom.Thenitwasgone.Ihopedheand
Kaylahadfoundtheirthreeapplesandescapedsafely.
Finally,MegandIreachedaYinthecorridor.Icouldtellthisfromtheflowoftheairandthe
temperaturedifferentialagainstmyface.
“Why’dwestop?”Megasked.
“Shh.”Ilistenedintently.
Fromtheright-handcorridorcameafaintwhiningsoundlikeatablesaw.Theleft-handcorridor
wasquiet,butitexudedafaintodorthatwasunpleasantlyfamiliar…notsulfur,exactly,buta
vaporousmixofmineralsfromdeepintheearth.
“Idon’thearanything,”Megcomplained.
“Asawingnoisetotheright,”Itoldher.“Totheleft,abadsmell.”
“Ichoosethebadsmell.”
“Ofcourseyoudo.”
Megblewmeoneofhertrademarkraspberries,thenhobbledtotheleft,pullingmealongwith
her.
Thebronzebandsaroundmylegbegantochafe.IcouldfeelMeg’spulsethroughherfemoral
artery,messingupmyrhythm.WheneverIgetnervous(whichdoesn’thappenoften),Iliketohuma
songtocalmmyself—usuallyRavel’sBoléroortheancientGreek“SongofSeikilos.”Butwith
Meg’spulsethrowingmeoff,theonlytuneIcouldconjurewasthe“ChickenDance.”Thatwasnot
soothing.
Weedgedforward.Thesmellofvolcanicfumesintensified.Mypulselostitsperfectrhythm.My
heartknockedagainstmychestwitheverycluck,cluck,cluck,cluckofthe“ChickenDance.”IfearedI
knewwherewewere.Itoldmyselfitwasn’tpossible.Wecouldn’thavewalkedhalfwayaroundthe
world.ButthiswastheLabyrinth.Downhere,distancewasmeaningless.Themazeknewhowto
exploititsvictims’weaknesses.Worse:ithadavicioussenseofhumor.
“Iseelight!”Megsaid.
Shewasright.Theabsolutedarknesshadchangedtomurkygray.Upahead,thetunnelended,
joiningwithanarrow,lengthwisecavernlikeavolcanicvent.Itlookedasifacolossalclawhad
slashedacrossthecorridorandleftawoundintheearth.Ihadseencreatureswithclawsthatbigdown
inTartarus.Ididnotfancyseeingthemagain.
“Weshouldturnaround,”Isaid.
“That’sstupid,”Megsaid.“Don’tyouseethegoldenglow?There’sanappleinthere.”
AllIsawwereswirlingplumesofashandgas.“Theglowcouldbelava,”Isaid.“Orradiation.Or
eyes.Glowingeyesarenevergood.”
“It’sanapple,”Meginsisted.“Icansmellapple.”
“Oh,nowyoudevelopkeensenses?”
Megforgedonward,givingmelittlechoicebuttogowith.Forasmallgirl,shewasquitegoodat
throwingherweightaround.Attheendofthetunnel,wefoundourselvesonanarrowledge.Thecliff
walloppositewasonlytenfeetaway,butthecrevasseseemedtoplungedownwardforever.Perhapsa
hundredfeetaboveus,thejaggedventopenedintoabiggerchamber.
Apainfullylargeicecubeseemedtobeworkingitswaydownmythroat.Ihadneverseenthis
placefrombelow,butIknewexactlywherewewere.Westoodattheomphalus—thenavelofthe
ancientworld.
“You’reshaking,”Megsaid.
Itriedtocoverhermouthwithmyhand,butshepromptlybitit.
“Don’ttouchme,”shesnarled.
“Pleasebequiet.”
“Why?”
“Becauserightaboveus—”Myvoicecracked.“Delphi.ThechamberoftheOracle.”
Meg’snosequiveredlikearabbit’s.“That’simpossible.”
“No,it’snot,”Iwhispered.“AndifthisisDelphi,thatmeans…”
Fromoverheadcameahisssoloud,itsoundedasiftheentireoceanhadhitafryingpanand
evaporatedintoamassivesteamcloud.Theledgeshook.Pebblesraineddown.Above,amonstrous
bodyslidacrossthecrevasse,completelycoveringtheopening.Thesmellofmoltingsnakeskin
searedmynostrils.
“Python.”MyvoicewasnowanoctavehigherthanMeg’s.“Heishere.”
TheBeastiscalling
TellhimI’mnothere.Let’shide
Where?Ingarbage.Natch
HADIEVERBEENSOTERRIFIED?
PerhapswhenTyphonragedacrosstheearth,scatteringthegodsbeforehim.PerhapswhenGaea
unleashedhergiantstoteardownOlympus.OrperhapswhenIaccidentallysawAresnakedinthe
gymnasium.Thathadbeenenoughtoturnmyhairwhiteforacentury.
ButIhadbeenagodallofthosetimes.NowIwasaweak,tinymortalcoweringinthedarkness.I
couldonlypraymyoldenemywouldnotsensemypresence.Foronceinmylonggloriouslife,I
wantedtobeinvisible.
Oh,whyhadtheLabyrinthbroughtmehere?
AssoonasIthoughtthis,Ichidedmyself:OfcourseitwouldbringmewhereIleastwantedtobe.
Austinhadbeenwrongaboutthemaze.Itwasstillevil,designedtokill.Itwasjustalittlesubtler
aboutitshomicidesnow.
Megseemedoblivioustoourdanger.Evenwithanimmortalmonsterahundredfeetaboveus,she
hadthenervetostayontask.Sheelbowedmeandpointedtoatinyledgeontheoppositewall,where
agoldenappleglowedcheerfully.
HadHarleyplaceditthere?Icouldn’timagine.Morelikelytheboyhadsimplyrolledgolden
applesdownvariouscorridors,trustingthattheywouldfindthemostdangerousspotstoroost.Iwas
reallystartingtodislikethatboy.
Megwhispered,“Easyjump.”
Igaveheralookthatunderdifferentcircumstanceswould’veincineratedher.“Toodangerous.”
“Apple,”shehissed.
“Monster!”Ihissedback.
“One.”
“No!”
“Two.”
“No!”
“Three.”Shejumped.
WhichmeantthatIalsojumped.Wemadetheledge,thoughourheelssentasprayofrubbleinto
thechasm.Onlymynaturalcoordinationandgracesavedusfromtopplingbackwardtoourdeaths.
Megsnatcheduptheapple.
Aboveus,themonsterrumbled,“Whoapproaches?”
Hisvoice…Godsabove,Irememberedthatvoice—deepandgruff,asifhebreathedxenonrather
thanair.ForallIknew,hedid.Pythoncouldcertainlyproducehisshareofunhealthygasses.
Themonstershiftedhisweight.Moregravelspilledintothecrevasse.
Istoodabsolutelystill,pressedagainstthecoldfaceoftherock.Myeardrumspulsedwithevery
beatofmyheart.IwishedIcouldstopMegfrombreathing.IwishedIcouldstoptherhinestoneson
hereyeglassesfromglittering.
Pythonhadheardus.Iprayedtoallthegodsthatthemonsterwoulddecidethenoisewasnothing.
Allhehadtodowasbreathedownintothecrevasseandhewouldkillus.Therewasnoescapinghis
poisonousbelch—notfromthisdistance,notforamortal.
Then,fromthecavernabove,cameanothervoice,smallerandmuchclosertohuman.“Hello,my
reptilianfriend.”
Inearlyweptwithrelief.Ihadnoideawhothisnewcomerwas,orwhyhehadbeensofoolishas
toannouncehispresencetoPython,butIalwaysappreciateditwhenhumanssacrificedthemselvesto
saveme.Commoncourtesywasnotdeadafterall!
Python’sharshlaughshookmyteeth.“Well,Iwaswonderingifyouwouldmakethetrip,
MonsieurBeast.”
“Don’tcallmethat,”themansnapped.“AndthecommutewasquiteeasynowthattheLabyrinthis
backinservice.”
“I’msopleased.”Python’stonewasdryasbasalt.
Icouldn’ttellmuchabouttheman’svoice,muffledasitwasbyseveraltonsofreptileflesh,buthe
soundedcalmerandmoreincontrolthanIwouldhavebeentalkingtoPython.Ihadheardtheterm
Beastusedtodescribesomeonebefore,butasusual,mymortalbrainpowerfailedme.
IfonlyI’dbeenabletoretainjusttheimportantinformation!Instead,IcouldtellyouwhatIhad
fordessertthefirsttimeIdinedwithKingMinos.(Spicecake.)Icouldtellyouwhatcolorchitonsthe
sonsofNiobewerewearingwhenIslewthem.(Averyunflatteringshadeoforange.)ButIcouldn’t
remembersomethingasbasicaswhetherthisBeastwasawrestler,amoviestar,orapolitician.
Possiblyallthree?
Nexttome,intheglowoftheapple,Megseemedtohaveturnedtobronze.Hereyeswerewide
withfear.Alittlelateforthat,butatleastshewasquiet.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,Imighthavethought
theman’svoiceterrifiedhermorethanthemonster ’s.
“So,Python,”themancontinued,“anypropheticwordstosharewithme?”
“Intime…mylord.”
Thelastwordswerespokenwithamusement,butI’mnotsureanyoneelsewould’verecognizedit.
Asidefrommyself,fewhadbeenonthereceivingendofPython’ssarcasmandlivedtotellthetale.
“Ineedmorethanyourassurances,”themansaid.“Beforeweproceed,wemusthaveallthe
Oraclesunderourcontrol.”
AlltheOracles.Thosewordsalmostsentmeoffthecliff,butsomehowIretainedmybalance.
“Intime,”Pythonsaid,“asweagreed.Wehavecomethisfarbybidingourtime,yes?Youdidnot
revealyourhandwhentheTitansstormedNewYork.IdidnotmarchtowarwithGaea’sgiants.We
bothrealizedthetimeforvictorywasnotyetright.Youmustremainpatientforawhilelonger.”
“Don’tlectureme,snake.Whileyouslumbered,Ibuiltanempire.Ihavespentcenturies—”
“Yes,yes.”Themonsterexhaled,causingatremoralongthecliffface.“Andifyoueverwant
yourempiretocomeoutoftheshadows,youneedtodeliveronyoursideofthebargainfirst.When
willyoudestroyApollo?”
Istifledayelp.Ishouldnothavebeensurprisedthattheyweretalkingaboutme.Formillennia,I
hadassumedthateveryonetalkedaboutmeallthetime.Iwassointerestingtheysimplycouldn’thelp
it.Butthisbusinessaboutdestroyingme—Ididn’tlikethat.
MeglookedmoreterrifiedthanI’deverseenher.Iwantedtothinkshewasworriedformysake,
butIhadafeelingshewasequallyconcernedaboutherself.Again,thosemixed-updemigod
priorities.
Themansteppedclosertothechasm.Hisvoicebecameclearerandlouder.“Don’tworryabout
Apollo.HeisexactlywhereIneedhimtobe.Hewillserveourpurpose,andonceheisnolonger
useful…”
Hedidnotbotherfinishingthestatement.Iwasafraiditdidnotendwithwewillgivehimanice
presentandsendhimonhisway.Withachill,Irecognizedthevoicefrommydream.Itwasthenasal
sneerofthemaninthepurplesuit.IalsohadafeelingI’dheardhimsingbefore,yearsandyearsago,
butthatdidn’tmakesense….WhywouldIsufferthroughaconcertgivenbyanuglypurple-suited
manwhocalledhimselftheBeast?Iwasnotevenafanofdeathmetalpolka!
Pythonshiftedhisbulk,showeringuswithmorerubble.“Andhowexactlywillyouconvincehim
toserveourpurpose?”
TheBeastchuckled.“Ihavewell-placedhelpwithinthecampwhowillsteerApollotowardus.
Also,Ihaveuppedthestakes.Apollowillhavenochoice.Heandthegirlwillopenthegates.”
AwhiffofPythonvaporfloatedacrossmynose—enoughtomakemedizzy,hopefullynot
enoughtokillme.
“Itrustyouareright,”saidthemonster.“Yourjudgmentinthepasthasbeen…questionable.I
wonderifyouhavechosentherighttoolsforthisjob.Haveyoulearnedfromyourpastmistakes?”
ThemansnarledsodeeplyIcouldalmostbelievehewasturningintoabeast.I’dseenthathappen
enoughtimes.Nexttome,Megwhimpered.
“Listenhere,youovergrownreptile,”themansaid,“myonlymistakewasnotburningmy
enemiesfastenough,oftenenough.Iassureyou,Iamstrongerthanever.Myorganizationis
everywhere.Mycolleaguesstandready.WhenwecontrolallfourOracles,wewillcontrolfate
itself!”
“Andwhatagloriousdaythatwillbe.”Python’svoicewasjaggedwithcontempt.“But
beforehand,youmustdestroythefifthOracle,yes?ThatistheonlyoneIcannotcontrol.Youmustset
flametothegroveof—”
“Dodona,”Isaid.
Thewordleapedunbiddenfrommymouthandechoedthroughthechasm.Ofallthestupidtimes
toretrieveapieceofinformation,ofallthestupidtimestosayitaloud…oh,thebodyofLester
Papadopouloswasaterribleplacetolive.
Aboveus,theconversationstopped.
Meghissedatme,“Youidiot.”
TheBeastsaid,“Whatwasthatsound?”
Ratherthananswer,Oh,that’sjustus,wedidsomethingevenmorefoolish.Oneofus,Megorme
—personally,Iblameher—musthaveslippedonapebble.Wetoppledofftheledgeandfellintothe
sulfurouscloudsbelow.
SQUISH.
TheLabyrinthmostdefinitelyhadasenseofhumor.Insteadofallowingustosmashintoarock
flooranddie,themazedroppedusintoamoundofwet,fullgarbagebags.
Ifyou’rekeepingscore,thatwasthesecondtimesincebecomingmortalthatIhadcrash-landedin
garbage,whichwastwotimesmorethananygodshouldendure.
Wetumbleddownthepileinafrenzyofthree-leggedflailing.Welandedatthebottom,covered
withmuck,but,miraculously,stillalive.
Megsatup,glazedinalayerofcoffeegrounds.
Ipulledabananapeeloffmyheadandflickeditaside.“Istheresomereasonyoukeeplandingus
intrashheaps?”
“Me?You’retheonewholosthisbalance!”Megwipedherfacewithoutmuchluck.Inherother
hand,sheclutchedthegoldenapplewithtremblingfingers.
“Areyouallright?”Iasked.
“Fine,”shesnapped.
Clearlythatwasnottrue.Shelookedasifshe’djustgonethroughHades’shauntedhouse.(Protip:
DONOT.)Herfacewaspallid.Shehadbitherlipsohard,herteethwerepinkwithblood.Ialso
detectedthefaintsmellofurine,meaningoneofushadgottenscaredenoughtolosebladdercontrol,
andIwasseventy-fivepercentsureitwasn’tme.
“Thatmanupstairs,”Isaid.“Yourecognizedhisvoice?”
“Shutup.That’sanorder!”
Iattemptedtoreply.Tomyconsternation,IfoundthatIcouldn’t.MyvoicehadheededMeg’s
commandallonitsown,whichdidnotbodewell.IdecidedtofileawaymyquestionsabouttheBeast
forlater.
Iscannedoursurroundings.Garbagechuteslinedthewallsonallfoursidesofthedismallittle
basement.AsIwatched,anotherbagofrefusesliddowntheright-handchuteandhitthepile.The
smellwassostrong,itcouldhaveburnedpaintoffthewalls,ifthegraycinderblockshadbeen
painted.Still,itwasbetterthansmellingthefumesofPython.Theonlyvisibleexitwasametaldoor
markedwithabiohazardsign.
“Wherearewe?”Megasked.
Iglaredather,waiting.
“Youcantalknow,”sheadded.
“Thisisgoingtoshockyou,”Isaid,“butitappearsweareinagarbageroom.”
“Butwhere?”
“Couldbeanywhere.TheLabyrinthintersectswithsubterraneanplacesallaroundtheworld.”
“LikeDelphi.”MeggloweredatmeasifourlittleGreekexcursionhadbeenmyfaultandnot…
well,onlyindirectlymyfault.
“Thatwasunexpected,”Iagreed.“WeneedtospeakwithChiron.”
“WhatisDodona?”
“I—I’llexplainitalllater.”Ididn’twantMegtoshutmeupagain.Ialsodidn’twanttotalkabout
DodonawhiletrappedintheLabyrinth.Myskinwascrawling,andIdidn’tthinkitwasjustbecauseI
wascoveredinstickysodasyrup.“First,weneedtogetoutofhere.”
Megglancedbehindme.“Well,itwasn’tatotalwaste.”Shereachedintothegarbageandpulled
outasecondpieceofglowingfruit.“Onlyonemoreappletogo.”
“Perfect.”ThelastthingIcaredaboutwasfinishingHarley’sridiculousrace,butatleastitwould
getMegmoving.“Now,whydon’tweseewhatfabulousbiohazardsawaitusbehindthatdoor?”
Theyhavegonemissing?
No,no,no,no,no,no,no
No,etcetera
THEONLYBIOHAZARDSweencounteredwerevegancupcakes.
Afternavigatingseveraltorchlitcorridors,weburstintoacrowdedmodernbakerythat,
accordingtothemenuboard,hadthedubiousnameTHELEVELTENVEGAN.Ourgarbage/volcanicgas
stenchquicklydispersedthecustomers,drivingmosttowardtheexit,andcausingmanynon-dairy
gluten-freebakedgoodstobetrampled.Weduckedbehindthecounter,chargedthroughthekitchen
doors,andfoundourselvesinasubterraneanamphitheaterthatlookedcenturiesold.
Tiersofstoneseatsringedasandypitabouttherightsizeforagladiatorfight.Hangingfromthe
ceilingweredozensofthickironchains.Iwonderedwhatghastlyspectaclesmighthavebeenstaged
here,butwedidn’tstayverylong.
Welimpedouttheoppositeside,backintotheLabyrinth’stwistingcorridors.
Bythispoint,wehadperfectedtheartofthree-leggedrunning.WheneverIstartedtotire,I
imaginedPythonbehindus,spewingpoisonousgas.
Atlastweturnedacorner,andMegshouted,“There!”
Inthemiddleofthecorridorsatathirdgoldenapple.
ThistimeIwastooexhaustedtocareabouttraps.WelopedforwarduntilMegscoopedupthe
fruit.
Infrontofus,theceilinglowered,formingaramp.Freshairfilledmylungs.Weclimbedtothe
top,butinsteadoffeelingelated,myinsidesturnedascoldasthegarbagejuiceonmyskin.Wewere
backinthewoods.
“Nothere,”Imuttered.“Gods,no.”
Meghoppedusinafullcircle.“Maybeit’sadifferentforest.”
Butitwasn’t.Icouldfeeltheresentfulstareofthetrees,thehorizonstretchingoutinall
directions.Voicesbegantowhisper,wakingtoourpresence.
“Hurry,”Isaid.
Asifoncue,thebandsaroundourlegssprangloose.Weran.
Evenwithherarmsfullofapples,Megwasfaster.Sheveeredbetweentrees,zigzaggingleftand
rightasiffollowingacourseonlyshecouldsee.Mylegsachedandmychestburned,butIdidn’t
darefallbehind.
Upahead,flickeringpointsoflightresolvedintotorches.Atlastweburstoutofthewoods,right
intoacrowdofcampersandsatyrs.
Chirongallopedover.“Thankthegods!”
“You’rewelcome,”Igasped,mostlyoutofhabit.“Chiron…wehavetotalk.”
Inthetorchlight,thecentaur ’sfaceseemedcarvedfromshadow.“Yes,wedo,myfriend.Butfirst,
Ifearonemoreteamisstillmissing…yourchildren,KaylaandAustin.”
Chironforcedustotakeshowersandchangeclothes.OtherwiseIwouldhaveplungedstraightback
intothewoods.
BythetimeIwasdone,KaylaandAustinstillhadnotreturned.
Chironhadsentsearchpartiesofdryadsintotheforest,ontheassumptionthattheywouldbesafe
intheirhometerritory,butheadamantlyrefusedtoletdemigodsjointhehunt.
“Wecannotriskanyoneelse,”hesaid.“Kayla,Austin,and—andtheothermissing…Theywould
notwantthat.”
Fivecampershadnowdisappeared.IharborednoillusionsthatKaylaandAustinwouldreturnon
theirown.TheBeast’swordsstillechoedinmyears:Ihaveuppedthestakes.Apollowillhaveno
choice.
Somehowhehadtargetedmychildren.Hewasinvitingmetolookforthem,andtofindthegates
ofthishiddenOracle.TherewasstillsomuchIdidnotunderstand—howtheancientgroveof
Dodonahadrelocatedhere,whatsortof“gates”itmighthave,whytheBeastthoughtIcouldopen
them,andhowhe’dsnaredAustinandKayla.ButtherewasonethingIdidknow:theBeastwasright.I
hadnochoice.Ihadtofindmychildren…myfriends.
IwouldhaveignoredChiron’swarningandrunintotheforestexceptforWill’spanickedshout,
“Apollo,Ineedyou!”
Atthefarendofthefield,hehadsetupanimpromptuhospitalwherehalfadozencamperslay
injuredonstretchers.HewasfranticallytendingtoPaoloMonteswhileNicohelddownthe
screamingpatient.
IrantoWill’ssideandwincedatwhatIsaw.
Paolohadmanagedtogetoneofhislegssawedoff.
“Igotitreattached,”Willtoldme,hisvoiceshakywithexhaustion.Hisscrubswerespeckledwith
blood.“Ineedsomebodytokeephimstable.”
Ipointedtothewoods.“But—”
“Iknow!”Willsnapped.“Don’tyouthinkIwanttobeouttheresearchingtoo?We’reshorthanded
forhealers.There’ssomesalveandnectarinthatpack.Go!”
Iwasstunnedbyhistone.IrealizedhewasjustasconcernedaboutKaylaandAustinasIwas.The
onlydifference:Willknewhisduty.Hehadtohealtheinjuredfirst.Andheneededmyhelp.
“Y-yes,”Isaid.“Yes,ofcourse.”
IgrabbedthesupplypackandtookchargeofPaolo,whohadconvenientlypassedoutfromthe
pain.
Willchangedhissurgicalglovesandglaredatthewoods.“Wewillfindthem.Wehaveto.”
NicodiAngelogavehimacanteen.“Drink.Rightnow,thisiswhereyouneedtobe.”
IcouldtellthesonofHadeswasangrytoo.Aroundhisfeet,thegrasssteamedandwithered.
Willsighed.“You’reright.Butthatdoesn’tmakemefeelbetter.IhavetosetValentina’sbroken
armnow.Youwanttoassist?”
“Soundsgruesome,”Nicosaid.“Let’sgo.”
ItendedtoPaoloMontesuntilIwassurehewasoutofdanger,thenaskedtwosatyrstocarryhis
stretchertotheHebecabin.
IdidwhatIcouldtonursetheothers.Chiarahadamildconcussion.BillieNghadcomedown
withacaseofIrishstepdancing.HollyandLaurelneededpiecesofshrapnelremovedfromtheir
backs,thankstoacloseencounterwithanexplodingchain-sawFrisbee.
TheVictortwinshadplacedinfirst,predictably,buttheyalsodemandedtoknowwhichofthem
hadthemostpiecesofshrapnelextracted,sotheycouldhavebraggingrights.Itoldthemtobequiet
orIwouldneverallowthemtowearlaurelwreathsagain.(Astheguywhoheldthepatentonlaurel
wreaths,thatwasmyprerogative.)
Ifoundmymortalhealingskillswerepassable.WillSolacefaroutshoneme,butthatdidn’t
bothermeasmuchasmyfailureswitharcheryandmusichad.IsupposeIwasusedtobeingsecondin
healing.MysonAsclepiushadbecomethegodofmedicinebythetimehewasfifteen,andIcouldn’t
havebeenhappierforhim.Itleftmetimeformyotherinterests.Besides,it’severygod’sdreamto
haveachildwhogrowsuptobeadoctor.
AsIwaswashingupfromtheshrapnelextraction,Harleyshuffledover,fiddlingwithhisbeacon
device.Hiseyeswerepuffyfromcrying.
“It’smyfault,”hemuttered.“Igotthemlost.I…I’msorry.”
Hewasshaking.IrealizedthelittleboywasterrifiedofwhatImightdo.
Forthepasttwodays,Ihadyearnedtocausefearinmortalsagain.Mystomachhadboiledwith
resentmentandbitterness.Iwantedsomeonetoblameformypredicament,forthedisappearances,for
myownpowerlessnesstofixthings.
LookingatHarley,myangerevaporated.Ifelthollow,silly,ashamedofmyself.Yes,me,
Apollo…ashamed.Truly,itwasaneventsounprecedented,itshouldhaverippedapartthecosmos.
“It’sallright,”Itoldhim.
Hesniffled.“Theracecoursewentintothewoods.Itshouldn’thavedonethat.Theygotlostand…
and—”
“Harley”—Iplacedmyhandsoverhis—“mayIseeyourbeacon?”
Heblinkedthetearsaway.IguesshewasafraidImightsmashhisgadget,butheletmetakeit.
“I’mnotaninventor,”Isaid,turningthegearsasgentlyaspossible.“Idon’thaveyourfather ’s
skills.ButIdoknowmusic.IbelieveautomatonspreferafrequencyofEat329.6hertz.Itresonates
bestwithCelestialbronze.Ifyouadjustyoursignal—”
“Festusmighthearit?”Harley’seyeswidened.“Really?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted.“JustasyoucouldnothaveknownwhattheLabyrinthwoulddotoday.
Butthatdoesn’tmeanweshouldstoptrying.Neverstopinventing,sonofHephaestus.”
Igavehimbackhisbeacon.Foracountofthree,Harleystaredatmeindisbelief.Thenhehugged
mesohardhenearlyrebrokemyribs,andhedashedaway.
Itendedtothelastoftheinjuredwhiletheharpiescleanedthearea,pickingupbandages,torn
clothing,anddamagedweapons.Theygatheredthegoldenapplesinabasketandpromisedtobakeus
somelovelyglowingappleturnoversforbreakfast.
AtChiron’surging,theremainingcampersdispersedbacktotheircabins.Hepromisedthemwe
woulddeterminewhattodointhemorning,butIhadnointentionofwaiting.
Assoonaswewerealone,IturnedtoChironandMeg.
“I’mgoingafterKaylaandAustin,”Itoldthem.“Youcanjoinmeornot.”
Chiron’sexpressiontightened.“Myfriend,you’reexhaustedandunprepared.Gobacktoyour
cabin.Itwillservenopurpose—”
“No.”Iwavedhimoff,asIoncemighthavedonewhenIwasagod.Thegestureprobablylooked
petulantcomingfromasixteen-year-oldnobody,butIdidn’tcare.“Ihavetodothis.”
Thecentaurloweredhishead.“Ishouldhavelistenedtoyoubeforetherace.Youtriedtowarn
me.What—whatdidyoudiscover?”
Thequestionstoppedmymomentumlikeaseatbelt.
AfterrescuingShermanYang,afterlisteningtoPythonintheLabyrinth,IhadfeltcertainIknew
theanswers.IhadrememberedthenameDodona,thestoriesabouttalkingtrees…
Nowmymindwasonceagainabowloffuzzymortalsoup.Icouldn’trecallwhatI’dbeenso
excitedabout,orwhatIhadintendedtodoaboutit.
Perhapsexhaustionandstresshadtakentheirtoll.OrmaybeZeuswasmanipulatingmybrain—
allowingmetantalizingglimpsesofthetruth,thensnatchingthemaway,turningmyaha!moments
intohuh?moments.
Ihowledinfrustration.“Idon’tremember!”
MegandChironexchangednervousglances.
“You’renotgoing,”Megtoldmefirmly.
“What?Youcan’t—”
“That’sanorder,”shesaid.“NogoingintothewoodsuntilIsayso.”
Thecommandsentashudderfromthebaseofmyskulltomyheels.
Idugmyfingernailsintomypalms.“MegMcCaffrey,ifmychildrendiebecauseyouwouldn’tlet
me—”
“LikeChironsaid,you’djustgetyourselfkilled.We’llwaitfordaylight.”
IthoughthowsatisfyingitwouldbetodropMegfromthesunchariotathighnoon.Thenagain,
somesmallrationalpartofmerealizedshemightberight.Iwasinnoconditiontolaunchaone-man
rescueoperation.Thatjustmademeangrier.
Chiron’stailswishedfromsidetoside.“Well,then…Iwillseeyoubothinthemorning.Wewill
findasolution.Ipromiseyouthat.”
Hegavemeonelastlook,asifworriedImightstartrunningincirclesandbayingatthemoon.
ThenhetrottedbacktowardtheBigHouse.
IscowledatMeg.“I’mstayingoutheretonight,incaseKaylaandAustincomeback.Unlessyou
wanttoforbidmefromdoingthat,too.”
Sheonlyshrugged.Evenhershrugswereannoying.
IstormedofftotheMecabinandgrabbedafewsupplies:aflashlight,twoblankets,acanteenof
water.Asanafterthought,ItookafewbooksfromWillSolace’sbookshelf.Nosurprise,hekept
referencematerialsaboutmetosharewithnewcampers.Ithoughtperhapsthebooksmighthelpjog
mymemories.Failingthat,they’dmakegoodtinderforafire.
WhenIreturnedtotheedgeofthewoods,Megwasstillthere.
Ihadn’texpectedhertokeepvigilwithme.BeingMeg,shehadapparentlydecideditwouldbethe
bestwaytoirritateme.
Shesatnexttomeonmyblanketandbeganeatingagoldenapple,whichshehadhiddeninher
coat.Wintermistdriftedthroughthetrees.Thenightbreezerippledthroughthegrass,making
patternslikewaves.
Underdifferentcircumstances,Imighthavewrittenapoemaboutit.Inmypresentstateofmind,I
couldonlyhavemanagedafuneraldirge,andIdidnotwanttothinkaboutdeath.
ItriedtostaymadatMeg,butIcouldn’tmanageit.Isupposedshe’dhadmybestinterestsat
heart…oratleast,shewasn’treadytoseehernewgodlyservantgethimselfkilled.
Shedidn’ttrytoconsoleme.Sheaskedmenoquestions.Sheamusedherselfbypickingupsmall
rocksandtossingthemintothewoods.That,Ididn’tmind.Ihappilywould’vegivenheracatapultifI
hadone.
Asthenightworeon,IreadaboutmyselfinWill’sbooks.
Normallythiswouldhavebeenahappytask.Iam,afterall,afascinatingsubject.Thistime,
however,Igainednosatisfactionfrommygloriousexploits.Theyallseemedlikeexaggerations,
lies,and…well,myths.Unfortunately,IfoundachapteraboutOracles.Thosefewpagesstirredmy
memory,confirmingmyworstsuspicions.
Iwastooangrytobeterrified.Istaredatthewoodsanddaredthewhisperingvoicestodisturb
me.Ithought,Comeon,then.Takeme,too.Thetreesremainedsilent.KaylaandAustindidnotreturn.
Towarddawn,itstartedtosnow.OnlythendidMegspeak.“Weshouldgoinside.”
“Andabandonthem?”
“Don’tbestupid.”Snowsaltedthehoodofherwintercoat.Herfacewashiddenexceptforthetip
ofhernoseandtheglintofrhinestonesonherglasses.“You’llfreezeouthere.”
Inoticedshedidn’tcomplainaboutthecoldherself.Iwonderedifsheevenfeltuncomfortable,or
ifthepowerofDemeterkepthersafethroughthewinterlikealeaflesstreeoradormantseedinthe
earth.
“Theyweremychildren.”Ithurtmetousethepasttense,butKaylaandAustinfeltirretrievably
lost.“Ishould’vedonemoretoprotectthem.Ishouldhaveanticipatedthatmyenemieswouldtarget
themtohurtme.”
Megchuckedanotherrockatthetrees.“You’vehadalotofchildren.Youtaketheblameevery
timeoneofthemgetsintrouble?”
Theanswerwasno.Overthemillennia,Ihadbarelymanagedtoremembermychildren’snames.
IfIsentthemanoccasionalbirthdaycardoramagicflute,Ifeltreallygoodaboutmyself.Sometimes
Iwouldn’trealizeoneofthemhaddieduntildecadeslater.DuringtheFrenchRevolution,Igot
worriedaboutmyboyLouisXIV,theSunKing,thenwentdowntocheckonhimandfoundouthehad
diedseventy-fiveyearsearlier.
Now,though,Ihadamortalconscience.Mysenseofguiltseemedtohaveexpandedasmylife
spancontracted.Icouldn’texplainthattoMeg.Shewouldneverunderstand.She’dprobablyjust
throwarockatme.
“It’smyfaultPythonretookDelphi,”Isaid.“IfIhadkilledhimthemomenthereappeared,whileI
wasstillagod,hewouldneverhavebecomesopowerful.Hewouldneverhavemadeanalliancewith
this…thisBeast.”
Megloweredherface.
“Youknowhim,”Iguessed.“IntheLabyrinth,whenyouheardtheBeast’svoice,youwere
terrified.”
Iwasworriedshemightordermetoshutupagain.Instead,shesilentlytracedthecrescentsonher
goldrings.
“Meg,hewantstodestroyme,”Isaid.“Somehow,he’sbehindthesedisappearances.Themorewe
understandaboutthisman—”
“HelivesinNewYork.”
Iwaited.ItwasdifficulttogleanmuchinformationfromthetopofMeg’shood.
“Allright,”Isaid.“Thatnarrowsitdowntoeightandahalfmillionpeople.Whatelse?”
Megpickedatthecallusesonherfingers.“Ifyou’reademigodonthestreets,youhearaboutthe
Beast.Hetakespeoplelikeme.”
Asnowflakemeltedonthebackofmyneck.“Takespeople…why?”
“Totrain,”Megsaid.“Touselike…servants,soldiers.Idon’tknow.”
“Andyou’vemethim.”
“Pleasedon’taskme—”
“Meg.”
“Hekilledmydad.”
Herwordswerequiet,buttheyhitmeharderthanarockintheface.“Meg,I—I’msorry.How…?”
“Irefusedtoworkforhim,”shesaid.“Mydadtriedto…”Sheclosedherfists.“Iwasreallysmall.
Ihardlyrememberit.Igotaway.Otherwise,theBeastwould’vekilledme,too.Mystepdadtookme
in.Hewasgoodtome.Youaskedwhyhetrainedmetofight?Whyhegavemetherings?Hewanted
metobesafe,tobeabletoprotectmyself.”
“FromtheBeast.”
Herhooddipped.“Beingagooddemigod,traininghard…that’stheonlywaytokeeptheBeast
away.Nowyouknow.”
Infact,Ihadmorequestionsthanever,butIsensedthatMegwasinnomoodforfurthersharing.I
rememberedherexpressionaswestoodonthatledgeunderthechamberofDelphi—herlookof
absoluteterrorwhensherecognizedtheBeast’svoice.Notallmonsterswerethree-tonreptileswith
poisonousbreath.Manyworehumanfaces.
Ipeeredintothewoods.Somewhereinthere,fivedemigodswerebeingusedasbait,including
twoofmychildren.TheBeastwantedmetosearchforthem,andIwould.ButIwouldnotlethimuse
me.
Ihavewell-placedhelpwithinthecamp,theBeasthadsaid.
Thatbotheredme.
IknewfromexperiencethatanydemigodcouldbeturnedagainstOlympus.Ihadbeenatthe
banquettablewhenTantalustriedtopoisonthegodsbyfeedingushischopped-upsoninastew.I’d
watchedasKingMithridatessidedwiththePersiansandmassacredeveryRomaninAnatolia.I’d
witnessedQueenClytemnestraturnhomicidal,killingherhusbandAgamemnonjustbecausehemade
onelittlehumansacrificetome.Demigodsareanunpredictablebunch.
IglancedatMeg.Iwonderedifshecouldbelyingtome—ifshewassomesortofspy.Itseemed
unlikely.Shewastoocontrary,impetuous,andannoyingtobeaneffectivemole.Besides,shewas
technicallymymaster.ShecouldordermetodoalmostanytaskandIwouldhavetoobey.Ifshewas
outtodestroyme,Iwasalreadyasgoodasdead.
PerhapsDamienWhite…asonofNemesiswasanaturalchoiceforbackstabbingduty.OrConnor
Stoll,Alice,orJulia…achildofHermeshadrecentlybetrayedthegodsbyworkingforKronos.They
mightdosoagain.MaybethatprettyChiara,daughterofTyche,wasinleaguewiththeBeast.
Childrenofluckwerenaturalgamblers.Thetruthwas,Ihadnoidea.
Theskyturnedfromblacktogray.Ibecameawareofadistantthump,thump,thump—aquick,
relentlesspulsethatgotlouderandlouder.Atfirst,Ifeareditmightbethebloodinmyhead.Could
humanbrainsexplodefromtoomanyworrisomethoughts?ThenIrealizedthenoisewasmechanical,
comingfromthewest.Itwasthedistinctlymodernsoundofrotorbladescuttingtheair.
Megliftedherhead.“Isthatahelicopter?”
Igottomyfeet.
Themachineappeared—adarkredBell412cuttingnorthalongthecoastline.(Ridingtheskiesas
oftenasIdo,Iknowmyflyingmachines.)Paintedonthehelicopter ’ssidewasabrightgreenlogo
withthelettersD.E.
Despitemymisery,asmallbitofhopekindledinsideme.ThesatyrsMillardandHerbertmust
havesucceededindeliveringtheirmessage.
“That,”ItoldMeg,“isRachelElizabethDare.Let’sgoseewhattheOracleofDelphihastosay.”
Don’tpaintovergods
Ifyou’reredecorating
That’s,like,commonsense
RACHELELIZABETHDAREwasoneofmyfavoritemortals.Assoonasshe’dbecometheOracle
twosummersago,she’dbroughtnewvigorandexcitementtothejob.
Ofcourse,thepreviousOraclehadbeenawitheredcorpse,soperhapsthebarwaslow.
Regardless,IwaselatedastheDareEnterpriseshelicopterdescendedjustbeyondtheeasternhills,
outsidethecamp’sboundary.IwonderedwhatRachelhadtoldherfather—afabulouslywealthyreal
estatemagnate—toconvincehimsheneededtoborrowahelicopter.IknewRachelcouldbequite
convincing.
IjoggedacrossthevalleywithMegintow.IcouldalreadyimaginethewayRachelwouldlookas
shecameoverthesummit:herfrizzyredhair,hervivacioussmile,herpaint-spatteredblouse,and
jeanscoveredwithdoodles.Ineededherhumor,wisdom,andresilience.TheOraclewouldcheerus
allup.Mostimportantly,shewouldcheermeup.
Iwasnotpreparedforthereality.(Whichagain,wasastunningsurprise.Normally,reality
preparesitselfforme.)
Rachelmetusonthehillneartheentrancetohercave.OnlylaterwouldIrealizeChiron’stwo
satyrmessengerswerenotwithher,andIwouldwonderwhathadhappenedtothem.
MissDarelookedthinnerandolder—lesslikeahighschoolgirlandmorelikeayoungfarmer ’s
wifefromancienttimes,weatheredfromhardworkandgauntfromshortageoffood.Herredhair
hadlostitsvibrancy.Itframedherfaceinacurtainofdarkcopper.Herfreckleshadfadedto
watermarks.Hergreeneyesdidnotsparkle.Andshewaswearingadress—awhitecottonfrockwith
awhiteshawl,andapatina-greenjacket.Rachelneverworedresses.
“Rachel?”Ididn’ttrustmyselftosayanymore.Shewasnotthesameperson.
ThenIrememberedthatIwasn’teither.
Shestudiedmynewmortalform.Hershouldersslumped.“Soit’strue.”
Frombelowuscamethevoicesofothercampers.Nodoubtwokenbythesoundofthehelicopter,
theywereemergingfromtheircabinsandgatheringatthebaseofthehill.Nonetriedtoclimbtoward
us,though.Perhapstheysensedthatallwasnotright.
ThehelicopterrosefrombehindHalf-BloodHill.ItveeredtowardLongIslandSound,passingso
closetotheAthenaParthenosthatIthoughtitslandingskidsmightclipthegoddess’swingedhelmet.
IturnedtoMeg.“WouldyoutelltheothersthatRachelneedssomespace?FetchChiron.He
shouldcomeup.Therestshouldwait.”
Itwasn’tlikeMegtotakeordersfromme.Ihalfexpectedhertokickme.Instead,sheglanced
nervouslyatRachel,turned,andtrudgeddownthehill.
“Afriendofyours?”Rachelasked.
“Longstory.”
“Yes,”shesaid.“Ihaveastorylikethat,too.”
“Shallwetalkinyourcave?”
Rachelpursedherlips.“Youwon’tlikeit.Butyes,that’sprobablythesafestplace.”
ThecavewasnotascozyasIremembered.
Thesofaswereoverturned.Thecoffeetablehadabrokenleg.Thefloorwasstrewnwitheasels
andcanvases.EvenRachel’stripodstool,thethroneofprophecyitself,layonitssideonapileof
paint-splattereddropcloths.
Mostdisturbingwasthestateofthewalls.Eversincetakingupresidence,Rachelhadbeen
paintingthem,likehercave-dwellingancestorsofold.Shehadspenthoursonelaboratemuralsof
eventsfromthepast,imagesfromthefutureshe’dseeninprophecies,favoritequotesfrombooks
andmusic,andabstractdesignssogoodtheywouldhavegivenM.C.Eschervertigo.Theartmade
thecavefeellikeamixtureofartstudio,psychedelichangout,andgraffiti-coveredhighway
underpass.Ilovedit.
Butmostoftheimageshadbeenblottedoutwithasloppycoatofwhitepaint.Nearby,arollerwas
stuckinanencrustedtray.ClearlyRachelhaddefacedherownworkmonthsagoandhadn’tbeenback
since.
Shewavedlistlesslyatthewreckage.“Igotfrustrated.”
“Yourart…”Igapedatthefieldofwhite.“Therewasalovelyportraitofme—rightthere.”
Igetoffendedwheneverartisdamaged,especiallyifthatartfeaturesme.
Rachellookedashamed.“I—Ithoughtablankcanvasmighthelpmethink.”Hertonemadeit
obviousthatthewhitewashinghadaccomplishednothing.Icouldhavetoldherasmuch.
Thetwoofusdidourbesttocleanup.Wehauledthesofasbackintoplacetoformasittingarea.
Rachelleftthetripodstoolwhereitlay.
Afewminuteslater,Megreturned.Chironfollowedinfullcentaurform,duckinghisheadtofit
throughtheentrance.Theyfoundussittingatthewobblycoffeetablelikecivilizedcavepeople,
sharinglukewarmArizonateaandstalecrackersfromtheOracle’slarder.
“Rachel.”Chironsighedwithrelief.“WhereareMillardandHerbert?”
Shebowedherhead.“Theyarrivedatmyhousebadlywounded.They…theydidn’tmakeit.”
Perhapsitwasthemorninglightbehindhim,butIfanciedIcouldseenewgraywhiskersgrowing
inChiron’sbeard.Thecentaurtrottedoverandloweredhimselftotheground,foldinghislegs
underneathhimself.Megjoinedmeonthecouch.
Rachelleanedforwardandsteepledherfingers,asshedidwhenshespokeaprophecy.Ihalf
hopedthespiritofDelphiwouldpossessher,buttherewasnosmoke,nohissing,noraspyvoiceof
divinepossession.Itwasabitdisappointing.
“Youfirst,”shetoldus.“Tellmewhat’sbeengoingonhere.”
WebroughtheruptospeedonthedisappearancesandmymisadventureswithMeg.Iexplained
aboutthethree-leggedraceandoursidetriptoDelphi.
Chironblanched.“Ididnotknowthis.YouwenttoDelphi?”
Rachelstaredatmeindisbelief.“TheDelphi.YousawPythonandyou…”
Igotthefeelingshewantedtosayandyoudidn’tkillhim?Butsherestrainedherself.
Ifeltlikestandingwithmyfaceagainstthewall.PerhapsRachelcouldblotmeoutwithwhite
paint.Disappearingwould’vebeenlesspainfulthanfacingmyfailures.
“Atpresent,”Isaid,“IcannotdefeatPython.Iammuchtooweak.And…well,theCatch-88.”
ChironsippedhisArizonatea.“Apollomeansthatwecannotsendaquestwithoutaprophecy,and
wecannotgetaprophecywithoutanOracle.”
Rachelstaredatheroverturnedtripodstool.“Andthisman…theBeast.Whatdoyouknowabout
him?”
“Notmuch.”IexplainedwhatIhadseeninmydream,andwhatMegandIhadoverheardinthe
Labyrinth.“TheBeastapparentlyhasareputationforsnatchingupyoungdemigodsinNewYork.
Megsays…”IfalteredwhenIsawherexpression,clearlycautioningmetostayawayfromher
personalhistory.“Um,she’shadsomeexperiencewiththeBeast.”
Chironraisedhisbrows.“Canyoutellusanythingthatmighthelp,dear?”
Megsankintothesofa’scushions.“I’vecrossedpathswithhim.He’s—he’sscary.Thememoryis
blurry.”
“Blurry,”Chironrepeated.
Megbecameveryinterestedinthecrackercrumbsonherdress.
Rachelgavemeaquizzicallook.Ishookmyhead,tryingmybesttoimpartawarning:Trauma.
Don’task.Mightgetattackedbyapeachbaby.
Rachelseemedtogetthemessage.“That’sallright,Meg,”shesaid.“Ihavesomeinformationthat
mayhelp.”
Shefishedherphonefromhercoatpocket.“Don’ttouchthis.Youguyshaveprobablyfiguredit
out,butphonesaregoingevenmorehaywirethanusualarounddemigods.I’mnottechnicallyoneof
you,andevenIcan’tplacecalls.Iwasabletotakeacoupleofpictures,though.”Sheturnedthescreen
towardus.“Chiron,yourecognizethisplace?”
Thenighttimeshotshowedtheupperfloorsofaglassresidentialtower.Judgingfromthe
background,itwassomewhereindowntownManhattan.
“Thatisthebuildingyoudescribedlastsummer,”Chironsaid,“whereyouparleyedwiththe
Romans.”
“Yeah,”Rachelsaid.“Somethingdidn’tfeelrightaboutthatplace.Igottothinking…howdidthe
RomanstakeoversuchprimeManhattanrealestateonsuchshortnotice?Whoownsit?Itriedto
contactReyna,toseeifshecouldtellmeanything,but—”
“Communicationsproblems?”Chironguessed.
“Exactly.IevensentphysicalmailtoCampJupiter ’sdropboxinBerkeley.Noresponse.SoI
askedmydad’srealestatelawyerstodosomedigging.”
Megpeekedoverthetopofherglasses.“Yourdadhaslawyers?Andahelicopter?”
“Severalhelicopters.”Rachelsighed.“He’sannoying.Anyway,thatbuildingisownedbyashell
corporation,whichisownedbyanothershellcorporation,blah,blah,blah.Themothercompanyis
somethingcalledTriumvirateHoldings.”
Ifeltatricklelikewhitepaintrollingdownmyback.“Triumvirate…”
Megmadeasourface.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Atriumvirateisarulingcouncilofthree,”Isaid.“Atleast,that’swhatitmeantinancientRome.”
“Whichisinteresting,”Rachelsaid,“becauseofthisnextshot.”Shetappedherscreen.Thenew
photozoomedinonthebuilding’spenthouseterrace,wherethreeshadowyfiguresstoodtalking
together—meninbusinesssuits,illuminatedonlybythelightfrominsidetheapartment.Icouldn’t
seetheirfaces.
“ThesearetheownersofTriumvirateHoldings,”Rachelsaid.“Justgettingthisonepicturewasn’t
easy.”Sheblewafrizzystrandofhairoutofherface.“I’vespentthelasttwomonthsinvestigating
them,andIdon’tevenknowtheirnames.Idon’tknowwheretheyliveorwheretheycamefrom.ButI
cantellyoutheyownsomuchpropertyandhavesomuchmoney,theymakemydad’scompanylook
likeakid’slemonadestand.”
Istaredatthepictureofthethreeshadowyfigures.Icouldalmostimaginethattheoneontheleft
wastheBeast.Hisslouchingpostureandtheover-largeshapeofhisheadremindedmeofthemanin
purplefrommydream.
“TheBeastsaidthathisorganizationwaseverywhere,”Irecalled.“Hementionedhehad
colleagues.”
Chiron’stailflicked,sendingapaintbrushskiddingacrossthecavefloor.“Adultdemigods?I
can’timaginetheywouldbeGreek,butperhapsRoman?IftheyhelpedOctavianwithhiswar—”
“Oh,theyhelped,”Rachelsaid.“Ifoundapapertrail—notmuch,butyourememberthosesiege
weaponsOctavianbuilttodestroyCampHalf-Blood?”
“No,”saidMeg.
Iwouldhaveignoredher,butRachelwasamoregeneroussoul.
Shesmiledpatiently.“Sorry,Meg.Youseemsoathomehere,Iforgotyouwerenew.Basically,
theRomandemigodsattackedthiscampwithgiantcatapultythingscalledonagers.Itwasallabig
misunderstanding.Anyway,theweaponswerepaidforbyTriumvirateHoldings.”
Chironfrowned.“Thatisnotgood.”
“Ifoundsomethingevenmoredisturbing,”Rachelcontinued.“Yourememberbeforethat,during
theTitanWar,LukeCastellanmentionedhehadbackersinthemortalworld?Theyhadenough
moneytobuyacruiseship,helicopters,weapons.Theyevenhiredmortalmercenaries.”
“Don’trememberthat,either,”Megsaid.
Irolledmyeyes.“Meg,wecan’tstopandexplaineverymajorwartoyou!LukeCastellanwasa
childofHermes.HebetrayedthiscampandalliedhimselfwiththeTitans.TheyattackedNewYork.
Bigbattle.Isavedtheday.Etcetera.”
Chironcoughed.“Atanyrate,IdorememberLukeclaimingthathehadlotsofsupporters.We
neverfoundoutexactlywhotheywere.”
“Nowweknow,”Rachelsaid.“Thatcruiseship,thePrincessAndromeda,waspropertyof
TriumvirateHoldings.”
Acoldsenseofuneasegrippedme.IfeltIshouldknowsomethingaboutthis,butmymortalbrain
wasbetrayingmeagain.IwasmorecertainthaneverthatZeuswastoyingwithme,keepingmy
visionandmemorylimited.IrememberedsomeassurancesOctavianhadgivenme,though—how
easyitwouldbetowinhislittlewar,toraisenewtemplestome,howmuchsupporthehad.
Rachel’sphonescreenwentdark—muchlikemybrain—butthegrainyphotoremainedburned
intomyretinas.
“Thesemen…”Ipickedupanemptytubeofburntsiennapaint.“I’mafraidtheyarenotmodern
demigods.”
Rachelfrowned.“Youthinkthey’reancientdemigodswhocamethroughtheDoorsofDeath—
likeMedea,orMidas?Thethingis,TriumvirateHoldingshasbeenaroundsincewaybeforeGaea
startedtowake.Decades,atleast.”
“Centuries,”Isaid.“TheBeastsaidthathe’dbeenbuildinghisempireforcenturies.”
Thecavebecamesosilent,IimaginedthehissofPython,thesoftexhaleoffumesfromdeepin
theearth.Iwishedwehadsomebackgroundmusictodrownitout…jazzorclassical.Iwouldhave
settledfordeathmetalpolka.
Rachelshookherhead.“Thenwho—?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmitted.“ButtheBeast…inmydream,hecalledmehisforefather.Heassumed
Iwouldrecognizehim.Andifmygodlymemorywasintact,IthinkIwould.Hisdemeanor,his
accent,hisfacialstructure—Ihavemethimbefore,justnotinmoderntimes.”
Meghadgrownveryquiet.Igotthedistinctimpressionshewastryingtodisappearintothecouch
cushions.Normally,thiswouldnothavebotheredme,butafterourexperienceintheLabyrinth,Ifelt
guiltyeverytimeImentionedtheBeast.Mypeskymortalconsciencemusthavebeenactingup.
“ThenameTriumvirate…”Itappedmyforehead,tryingtoshakelooseinformationthatwasno
longerthere.“ThelasttriumvirateIdealtwithincludedLepidus,MarcAntony,andmyson,the
originalOctavian.AtriumvirateisaveryRomanconcept…likepatriotism,skullduggery,and
assassination.”
Chironstrokedhisbeard.“YouthinkthesemenareancientRomans?Howisthatpossible?Hades
isquitegoodattrackingdownescapedspiritsfromtheUnderworld.Hewouldnotallowthreemen
fromancienttimestorunamokinthemodernworldforcenturies.”
“Again,Idonotknow.”Sayingthissooftenoffendedmydivinesensibilities.IdecidedthatwhenI
returnedtoOlympus,IwouldhavetogarglethebadtasteoutofmymouthwithTabasco-flavored
nectar.“Butitseemsthesemenhavebeenplottingagainstusforaverylongtime.TheyfundedLuke
Castellan’swar.TheysuppliedaidtoCampJupiterwhentheRomansattackedCampHalf-Blood.And
despitethosetwowars,theTriumvirateisstilloutthere—stillplotting.Whatifthiscompanyisthe
rootcauseof…well,everything?”
ChironlookedatmeasifIweredigginghisgrave.“Thatisaverytroublingthought.Couldthree
menbesopowerful?”
Ispreadmyhands.“You’velivedlongenoughtoknow,myfriend.Gods,monsters,Titans…these
arealwaysdangerous.Butthegreatestthreattodemigodshasalwaysbeenotherdemigods.Whoever
thisTriumvirateis,wemuststopthembeforetheytakecontroloftheOracles.”
Rachelsatupstraight.“Excuseme?Oraclesplural?”
“Ah…didn’tItellyouaboutthemwhenIwasagod?”
Hereyesregainedsomeoftheirdarkgreenintensity.Ifearedshewasenvisioningwaysshemight
inflictpainuponmewithherartsupplies.
“No,”shesaidlevelly,“youdidnottellmeaboutthem.”
“Oh…well,mymortalmemoryhasbeenfaulty,yousee.Ihadtoreadsomebooksinorderto—”
“Oracles,”sherepeated.“Plural.”
Itookadeepbreath.IwantedtoassureherthatthoseotherOraclesdidn’tmeanathingtome!
Rachelwasspecial!Unfortunately,Idoubtedshewasinaplacewhereshecouldhearthatrightnow.I
decideditwasbesttospeakplainly.
“Inancienttimes,”Isaid,“thereweremanyOracles.OfcourseDelphiwasthemostfamous,but
therewerefourothersofcomparablepower.”
Chironshookhishead.“Butthoseweredestroyedagesago.”
“SoIthought,”Iagreed.“NowIamnotsosure.IbelieveTriumvirateHoldingswantstocontrol
alltheancientOracles.AndIbelievethemostancientOracleofall,theGroveofDodona,isright
hereatCampHalf-Blood.”
Upinmybusiness
AlwaysburningOracles
Romansgonnahate
IWASADRAMATICGOD.
Ithoughtmylaststatementwasagreatline.Iexpectedgasps,perhapssomeorganmusicinthe
background.MaybethelightswouldgooutjustbeforeIcouldsaymore.Momentslater,Iwouldbe
founddeadwithaknifeinmyback.Thatwouldbeexciting!
Wait.I’mmortal.Murderwouldkillme.Nevermind.
Atanyrate,noneofthathappened.Mythreecompanionsjuststaredatme.
“FourotherOracles,”Rachelsaid.“YoumeanyouhavefourotherPythias—”
“No,mydear.ThereisonlyonePythia—you.Delphiisabsolutelyunique.”
Rachelstilllookedlikeshewantedtojamanumbertenbristlepaintbrushupmynose.“Sothese
otherfournon-uniqueOracles…”
“Well,onewastheSybilofCumae.”Iwipedthesweatoffmypalms.(Whydidmortalpalms
sweat?)“Youknow,shewrotetheSibyllineBooks—thosepropheciesthatEllatheharpymemorized.”
Meglookedbackandforthbetweenus.“Aharpy…likethosechickenladieswhocleanupafter
lunch?”
Chironsmiled.“Ellaisaveryspecialharpy,Meg.Yearsago,shesomehowcameacrossacopyof
thepropheticbooks,whichwethoughtwereburnedbeforetheFallofRome.Rightnow,ourfriends
atCampJupiteraretryingtoreconstructthembasedonElla’srecollections.”
Rachelcrossedherarms.“AndtheotherthreeOracles?I’msurenoneofthemwasabeautiful
youngpriestesswhomyoupraisedforher…whatwasit?…‘scintillatingconversation’?”
“Ah…”Iwasn’tsurewhy,butitfeltlikemyacnewasturningintoliveinsectsandcrawlingacross
myface.“Well,accordingtomyextensiveresearch—”
“Somebooksheflippedthroughlastnight,”Megclarified.
“Ahem!TherewasanOracleatErythaea,andanotherattheCaveofTrophonius.”
“Goodness,”Chironsaid.“I’dforgottenaboutthosetwo.”
Ishrugged.Irememberedalmostnothingaboutthemeither.Theyhadbeensomeofmyless
successfulpropheticfranchises.
“Andthefifth,”Isaid,“wastheGroveofDodona.”
“Agrove,”Megsaid.“Liketrees.”
“Yes,Meg,liketrees.Grovesaretypicallycomposedoftrees,ratherthan,say,Fudgsicles.
DodonawasastandofsacredoaksplantedbytheMotherGoddessinthefirstdaysoftheworld.They
wereancientevenwhentheOlympianswereborn.”
“TheMotherGoddess?”Rachelshiveredinherpatinajacket.“Pleasetellmeyoudon’tmean
Gaea.”
“No,thankfully.ImeanRhea,QueenoftheTitans,themotherofthefirstgenerationofOlympian
gods.Hersacredtreescouldactuallyspeak.Sometimestheyissuedprophecies.”
“Thevoicesinthewoods,”Megguessed.
“Exactly.IbelievetheGroveofDodonahasregrownitselfhereinthewoodsatcamp.Inmy
dreams,IsawacrownedwomanimploringmetofindherOracle.IbelieveitwasRhea,thoughIstill
don’tunderstandwhyshewaswearingapeacesymbolorusingthetermdigit.”
“Apeacesymbol?”Chironasked.
“Alargebrassone,”Iconfirmed.
Racheldrummedherfingersonthecouch’sarmrest.“IfRheaisaTitan,isn’tsheevil?”
“NotallTitanswerebad,”Isaid.“Rheawasagentlesoul.Shesidedwiththegodsintheirfirst
greatwar.Ithinkshewantsustosucceed.Shedoesn’twanthergroveinthehandsofourenemies.”
Chiron’stailtwitched.“Myfriend,Rheahasnotbeenseenformillennia.Hergrovewasburnedin
theancienttimes.EmperorTheodosiusorderedthelastoakcutdownin—”
“Iknow.”Igotastabbingpainrightbetweenmyeyes,asIalwaysdidwhensomeonementioned
Theodosius.Inowrecalledthatthebullyhadclosedalltheancienttemplesacrosstheempire,
basicallyevictingusOlympiangods.Iusedtohaveanarcherytargetwithhisfaceonit.
“Nevertheless,manythingsfromtheolddayshavesurvivedorregenerated.TheLabyrinthhasrebuilt
itself.Whycouldn’tagroveofsacredtreesspringupagainrighthereinthisvalley?”
Megpushedherselfdeeperintothecushions.“Thisisallweird.”LeaveittotheyoungMcCaffrey
tosummarizeourconversationsoeffectively.“Soifthetreevoicesaresacredandstuff,whyarethey
makingpeoplegetlost?”
“Foronce,youaskagoodquestion.”Ihopedsuchpraisewouldn’tgotoMeg’shead.“Intheold
days,thepriestsofDodonawouldtakecareofthetrees,pruningthem,wateringthem,andchanneling
theirvoicesbyhangingwindchimesintheirbranches.”
“Howwouldthathelp?”Megasked.
“Idon’tknow.I’mnotatreepriest.Butwithpropercare,thesetreescoulddivinethefuture.”
Rachelsmoothedherskirt.“Andwithoutpropercare?”
“Thevoiceswereunfocused,”Isaid.“Awildchoirofdisharmony.”Ipaused,quitepleasedwith
thatline.Iwashopingsomeonemightwriteitdownforposterity,butnoonedid.“Untended,the
grovecouldmostdefinitelydrivemortalstomadness.”
Chironfurrowedhisbrow.“Soourmissingcampersarewanderinginthetrees,perhapsalready
insanefromthevoices.”
“Orthey’redead,”Megadded.
“No.”Icouldnotabidethatthought.“No,theyarestillalive.TheBeastisusingthem,tryingto
baitme.”
“Howcanyoubesure?”Rachelasked.“Andwhy?IfPythonalreadycontrolsDelphi,whyare
theseotherOraclessoimportant?”
Igazedatthewallformerlygracedbymypicture.Alas,noanswersmagicallyappearedinthe
whitewashedspace.“I’mnotsure.Ibelieveourenemieswanttocutusofffromeverypossiblesource
ofprophecy.Withoutawaytoseeanddirectourfates,wewillwitheranddie—godsandmortals
alike,anyonewhoopposestheTriumvirate.”
Megturnedupsidedownonthesofaandkickedoffherredshoes.“They’restranglingour
taproots.”Shewriggledhertoestodemonstrate.
IlookedbackatRachel,hopingshewouldexcusemystreeturchinoverlord’sbadmanners.“As
forwhytheGroveofDodonaissoimportant,PythonmentionedthatitwastheoneOraclehecould
notcontrol.Idon’tunderstandexactlywhy—perhapsbecauseDodonaistheonlyOraclethathasno
connectionwithme.ItspowercomesfromRhea.Soifthegroveisworking,anditisfreeofPython’s
influence,anditishereatCampHalf-Blood—”
“Itcouldprovideuswithprophecies.”Chiron’seyesgleamed.“Itcouldgiveusachanceagainst
ourenemies.”
IgaveRachelanapologeticsmile.“Ofcourse,we’dratherhaveourbelovedOracleofDelphi
workingagain.Andwewill,eventually.Butfornow,theGroveofDodonacouldbeourbesthope.”
Meg’shairsweptthefloor.Herfacewasnowthecolorofoneofmysacredcattle.“Aren’t
propheciesalltwistedandmysteriousandmurky,andpeopledietryingtoescapethem?”
“Meg,”Isaid,“youcan’ttrustthosereviewsonRateMyOracle.com.Thehotnessfactorforthe
SibylofCumae,forinstance,iscompletelyoff.Irememberthatquiteclearly.”
Rachelputherchinonherfist.“Really?Dotell.”
“Uh,whatImeanttosay:theGroveofDodonaisabenevolentforce.Ithashelpedheroesbefore.
ThemastheadoftheoriginalArgo,forinstance,wascarvedfromabranchofthesacredtrees.Itcould
speaktotheArgonautsandgivethemguidance.”
“Mm.”Chironnodded.“Andthat’swhyourmysteriousBeastwantsthegroveburned.”
“Apparently,”Isaid.“Andthat’swhywehavetosaveit.”
Megrolledbackwardoffthecouch.Herlegsknockedoverthethree-leggedcoffeetable,spilling
ourArizonateaandcrackers.“Oops.”
Igroundmymortalteeth,whichwouldnotlastayearifIkepthangingaroundMeg.Racheland
Chironwiselyignoredmyyoungfriend’sdisplayofMegness.
“Apollo…”Theoldcentaurwatchedawaterfallofteatricklingfromtheedgeofthetable.“Ifyou
arerightaboutDodona,howdoweproceed?Wearealreadyshorthanded.Ifwesendsearchteams
intothewoods,wehavenoguaranteethey’llcomeback.”
Megbrushedthehairoutofhereyes.“We’llgo.JustApolloandme.”
Mytongueattemptedtohideinthedepthsofmythroat.“We—wewill?”
“Yousaidyougottadoabunchoftrialsorwhatevertoproveyou’reworthy,right?This’llbethe
firstone.”
Partofmeknewshewasright,buttheremnantsofmygodlyselfrebelledattheidea.Ineverdid
myowndirtywork.Iwouldratherhavepickedanicegroupofheroesandsentthemtotheirdeaths—
or,youknow,glorioussuccess.
YetRheahadbeenclearinmydream:findingtheOraclewasmyjob.Andthankstothecrueltyof
Zeus,whereIwent,Megwent.ForallIknew,ZeuswasawareoftheBeastandhisplans,andhehad
sentmeherespecificallytodealwiththesituation…athoughtthatdidnotmakemeanymorelikelyto
gethimanicetieforFather ’sDay.
Ialsorememberedtheotherpartofmydream:theBeastinhismauvesuit,encouragingmeto
findtheOraclesohecouldburnitdown.TherewasstilltoomuchIdidn’tunderstand,butIhadtoact.
AustinandKaylaweredependingonme.
Rachelputherhandonmyknee,whichmademeflinch.Surprisingly,shedidnotinflictanypain.
Hergazewasmoreearnestthanangry.“Apollo,youhavetotry.Ifwecangetaglimpseofthe
future…well,itmaybetheonlywaytogetthingsbacktonormal.”Shelookedlonginglyattheblank
wallsofhercave.“I’dliketohaveafutureagain.”
Chironshiftedhisforelegs.“Whatdoyouneedfromus,oldfriend?Howcanwehelp?”
IglancedatMeg.Sadly,Icouldtellthatwewereinagreement.Wewerestuckwitheachother.We
couldn’triskanyoneelse.
“Megisright,”Isaid.“Wehavetodothisourselves.Weshouldleaveimmediately,but—”
“We’vebeenupallnight,”Megsaid.“Weneedsomesleep.”
Wonderful,Ithought.NowMegisfinishingmysentences.
ThistimeIcouldnotarguewithherlogic.Despitemyfervortorushintothewoodsandsavemy
children,Ihadtoproceedcautiously.Icouldnotmessupthisrescue.AndIwasincreasinglycertain
thattheBeastwouldkeephiscaptivesalivefornow.Heneededthemtoluremeintohistrap.
Chironroseonhisfronthooves.“Thisevening,then.Restandprepare,myheroes.Ifearyouwill
needallyourstrengthandwitsforwhatcomesnext.”
Armedtotheeyeballs:
Acombatukulele
MagicBrazilscarf
SUNGODSARENOTGOODatsleepingduringtheday,butsomehowImanagedafitfulnap.
WhenIwokeinthelateafternoon,Ifoundthecampinastateofagitation.
KaylaandAustin’sdisappearancehadbeenthetippingpoint.Theothercamperswerenowso
rattled,noonecouldmaintainanormalschedule.Isupposeasingledemigoddisappearingeveryfew
weeksfeltlikeanormalcasualtyrate.Butapairofdemigodsdisappearinginthemiddleofacampsanctionedactivity—thatmeantnoonewassafe.
Wordmusthavespreadofourconferenceinthecave.TheVictortwinshadstuffedwadsofcotton
intheirearstofoiltheoracularvoices.JuliaandAlicehadclimbedtothetopofthelavawalland
wereusingbinocularstoscanthewoods,nodoubthopingtospottheGroveofDodona,butIdoubted
theycouldseethetreesfortheforest.
EverywhereIwent,peoplewereunhappytoseeme.DamienandChiarasattogetheratthecanoe
dock,gloweringinmydirection.ShermanYangwavedmeawaywhenItriedtotalkwithhim.Hewas
busydecoratingtheArescabinwithfraggrenadesandbrightlydecoratedclaymores.Ifithadbeen
Saturnalia,hedefinitelywouldhavewontheprizeformostviolentholidaydecorations.
EventheAthenaParthenosstareddownatmeaccusinglyfromthetopofthehillasiftosay,This
isallyourfault.
Shewasright.IfIhadn’tletPythontakeoverDelphi,ifI’dpaidmoreattentiontotheotherancient
Oracles,ifIhadn’tlostmydivinity—
Stopit,Apollo,Iscoldedmyself.You’rebeautifulandeveryonelovesyou.
Butitwasbecomingincreasinglydifficulttobelievethat.Myfather,Zeus,didnotloveme.The
demigodsatCampHalf-Blooddidnotloveme.PythonandtheBeastandhiscomradesatTriumvirate
Holdingsdidnotloveme.Itwasalmostenoughtomakemequestionmyself-worth.
No,no.Thatwascrazytalk.
ChironandRachelwerenowheretobeseen.NyssaBarrerainformedmethattheywerehoping
againsthopetousethecamp’ssoleInternetconnection,inChiron’soffice,toaccessmore
informationaboutTriumvirateHoldings.Harleywaswiththemfortechsupport.Theywerepresently
onholdwithComcastcustomerserviceandmightnotemergeforhours,ifindeedtheysurvivedthe
ordealatall.
IfoundMegatthearmory,browsingforbattlesupplies.Shehadstrappedaleathercuirassover
hergreendressandgreavesoverorangeleggings,soshelookedlikeakindergartenerreluctantly
stuffedintocombatgearbyherparents.
“Perhapsashield?”Isuggested.
“Nuh-uh.”Sheshowedmeherrings.“Ialwaysusetwoswords.PlusIneedafreehandfor
slappingwhenyouactstupid.”
Ihadtheuncomfortablesenseshewasserious.
Fromtheweaponrack,shepulledoutalongbowandofferedittome.
Irecoiled.“No.”
“It’syourbestweapon.You’reApollo.”
Iswallowedbackthetangofmortalbile.“Isworeanoath.I’mnotthegodofarcheryormusic
anymore.Iwon’tuseaboworamusicalinstrumentuntilIcanusethemproperly.”
“Stupidoath.”Shedidn’tslapme,butshelookedlikeshewantedto.“Whatwillyoudo,juststand
aroundandcheerwhileIfight?”
Thathadindeedbeenmyplan,butnowIfeltsillyadmittingit.Iscannedtheweapondisplayand
grabbedasword.Evenwithoutdrawingit,Icouldtellitwouldbetooheavyandawkwardformeto
use,butIstrappedthescabbardaroundmywaist.
“There,”Isaid.“Happy?”
Megdidnotappearhappy.Nevertheless,shereturnedthebowtoitsplace.
“Fine,”shesaid.“Butyou’dbetterhavemyback.”
Ihadneverunderstoodthatexpression.ItmademethinkoftheKICKMEsignsArtemisusedtotape
tomytogaduringfestivaldays.Still,Inodded.“Yourbackshallbehad.”
Wereachedtheedgeofthewoodsandfoundasmallgoing-awaypartywaitingforus:Willand
Nico,PaoloMontes,MalcolmPace,andBillieNg,allwithgrimfaces.
“Becareful,”Willtoldme.“Andhere.”
BeforeIcouldobject,heplacedaukuleleinmyhands.
Itriedtogiveitback.“Ican’t.Imadeanoath—”
“Yeah,Iknow.Thatwasstupidofyou.Butit’sacombatukulele.Youcanfightwithitifyouneed
to.”
Ilookedmorecloselyattheinstrument.ItwasmadefromCelestialbronze—thinsheetsofmetal
acid-etchedtoresemblethegrainofblondoakwood.Theinstrumentweighednexttonothing,yetI
imagineditwasalmostindestructible.
“TheworkofHephaestus?”Iasked.
Willshookhishead.“TheworkofHarley.Hewantedyoutohaveit.Justslingitoveryourback.
FormeandHarley.It’llmakeusbothfeelbetter.”
IdecidedIwasobligedtohonortherequest,thoughmypossessionofaukulelehadrarelymade
anyonefeelbetter.Don’taskmewhy.WhenIwasagod,Iusedtodoanabsolutelyblisteringukulele
versionof“Satisfaction.”
Nicohandedmesomeambrosiawrappedinanapkin.
“Ican’teatthis,”Iremindedhim.
“It’snotforyou.”HeglancedatMeg,hiseyesfullofmisgiving.Irememberedthatthesonof
Hadeshadhisownwaysofsensingthefuture—futuresthatinvolvedthepossibilityofdeath.I
shiveredandtuckedtheambrosiaintomycoatpocket.AsaggravatingasMegcouldbe,Iwasdeeply
unsettledbytheideathatshemightcometoharm.IdecidedthatIcouldnotallowthattohappen.
MalcolmwasshowingMegaparchmentmap,pointingoutvariousplacesinthewoodsthatwe
shouldavoid.Paolo—lookingcompletelyhealedfromhislegsurgery—stoodnexttohim,carefully
andearnestlyprovidingPortuguesecommentarythatnoonecouldunderstand.
Whentheywerefinishedwiththemap,BillieNgapproachedMeg.
Billiewasawispofagirl.Shecompensatedforherdiminutivestaturewiththefashionsenseofa
K-Popidol.Herwintercoatwasthecolorofaluminumfoil.Herbobbedhairwasaquamarineandher
makeupgold.Icompletelyapproved.Infact,IthoughtIcouldrockthatlookmyselfifIcouldjustget
myacneundercontrol.
BilliegaveMegaflashlightandasmallpacketofflowerseeds.
“Justincase,”Billiesaid.
Megseemedquiteoverwhelmed.ShegaveBillieafiercehug.
Ididn’tunderstandthepurposeoftheseeds,butitwascomfortingtoknowthatinadire
emergencyIcouldhitpeoplewithmyukulelewhileMegplantedgeraniums.
MalcolmPacegavemehisparchmentmap.“Whenindoubt,veertotheright.Thatusuallyworks
inthewoods,thoughIdon’tknowwhy.”
Paoloofferedmeagreen-and-goldscarf—abandanaversionoftheBrazilianflag.Hesaid
somethingthat,ofcourse,Icouldnotunderstand.
Nicosmirked.“That’sPaolo’sgood-luckbandana.Ithinkhewantsyoutowearit.Hebelievesit
willmakeyouinvincible.”
Ifoundthisdubious,sincePaolowaspronetoseriousinjury,butasagod,Ihadlearnedneverto
turndownofferings.“Thankyou.”
Paologrippedmyshouldersandkissedmycheeks.Imayhaveblushed.Hewasquitehandsome
whenhewasn’tbleedingoutfromdismemberment.
IrestedmyhandonWill’sshoulder.“Don’tworry.We’llbebackbydawn.”
Hismouthtrembledeversoslightly.“Howcanyoubesure?”
“I’mthesungod,”Isaid,tryingtomustermoreconfidencethanIfelt.“Ialwaysreturnatdawn.”
Ofcourseitrained.Whywoulditnot?
UpinMountOlympus,Zeusmusthavebeenhavingagoodlaughatmyexpense.CampHalfBloodwassupposedtobeprotectedfromsevereweather,butnodoubtmyfatherhadtoldAeolusto
pulloutallthestopsonhiswinds.Myjiltedex-girlfriendsamongtheairnymphswereprobably
enjoyingtheirmomentofpayback.
Therainwasjustontheedgeofsleet—liquidenoughtosoakmyclothes,icyenoughtoslam
againstmyexposedfacelikeglassshards.
Westumbledalong,lurchingfromtreetotreetofindanyshelterwecould.Patchesofoldsnow
crunchedundermyfeet.Myukulelegotheavierasitssoundholefilledwithrain.Meg’sflashlight
beamcutacrossthestormlikeaconeofyellowstatic.
Iledtheway,notbecauseIhadanydestinationinmind,butbecauseIwasangry.Iwastiredof
beingcoldandsoaked.Iwastiredofbeingpickedon.Mortalsoftentalkaboutthewholeworldbeing
againstthem,butthatisridiculous.Mortalsaren’tthatimportant.Inmycase,thewholeworldreally
wasagainstme.Irefusedtosurrendertosuchabuse.Iwoulddosomethingaboutit!Ijustwasn’tquite
surewhat.
Fromtimetotimeweheardmonstersinthedistance—theroarofadrakon,theharmonizedhowl
ofatwo-headedwolf—butnothingshoweditself.Onanightlikethis,anyself-respectingmonster
would’veremainedinitslair,warmandcozy.
Afterwhatseemedlikehours,Megstifledascream.Iheroicallyleapedtoherside,myhandon
mysword.(Iwouldhavedrawnit,butitwasreallyheavyandgotstuckinthescabbard.)AtMeg’s
feet,wedgedinthemud,wasaglisteningblackshellthesizeofaboulder.Itwascrackeddownthe
middle,theedgessplatteredwithafoulgooeysubstance.
“Ialmoststeppedonthat.”Megcoveredhermouthasifshemightbesick.
Iinchedcloser.Theshellwasthecrushedcarapaceofagiantinsect.Nearby,camouflagedamong
thetreeroots,layoneofthebeast’sdismemberedlegs.
“It’samyrmeke,”Isaid.“Oritwas.”
Behindherrain-splatteredglasses,Meg’seyeswereimpossibletoread.“Amurr-murr-key?”
“Agiantant.Theremustbeacolonysomewhereinthewoods.”
Meggagged.“Ihatebugs.”
Thatmadesenseforadaughteroftheagriculturegoddess,buttomethedeadantdidn’tseemany
grosserthanthepilesofgarbageinwhichweoftenswam.
“Well,don’tworry,”Isaid.“Thisoneisdead.Whateverkilleditmust’vehadpowerfuljawsto
crackthatshell.”
“Notcomforting.Are—arethesethingsdangerous?”
Ilaughed.“Oh,yes.Theyrangeinsizefromassmallasdogstolargerthangrizzlybears.One
timeIwatchedacolonyofmyrmekesattackaGreekarmyinIndia.Itwashilarious.Theyspitacid
thatcanmeltthroughbronzearmorand—”
“Apollo.”
Mysmilefaded.IremindedmyselfIwasnolongeraspectator.Theseantscouldkillus.Easily.
AndMegwasscared.
“Right,”Isaid.“Well,therainshouldkeepthemyrmekesintheirtunnels.Justdon’tmakeyourself
anattractivetarget.Theylikebright,shinythings.”
“Likeflashlights?”
“Um…”
Meghandedmetheflashlight.“Leadon,Apollo.”
Ithoughtthatwasunfair,butweforgedahead.
Afteranotherhourorso(surelythewoodsweren’tthisbig),theraintaperedoff,leavingthe
groundsteaming.
Theairgotwarmer.Thehumidityapproachedbathhouselevels.Thickwhitevaporcurledoffthe
treebranches.
“What’sgoingon?”Megwipedherface.“Feelslikeatropicalrainforestnow.”
Ihadnoanswer.Then,upahead,Iheardamassiveflushingsound—likewaterbeingforced
throughpipes…orfissures.
Icouldn’thelpbutsmile.“Ageyser.”
“Ageyser,”Megrepeated.“LikeOldFaithful?”
“Thisisexcellentnews.Perhapswecangetdirections.Ourlostdemigodsmighthaveevenfound
sanctuarythere!”
“Withthegeysers,”Megsaid.
“No,myridiculousgirl,”Isaid.“Withthegeysergods.Assumingthey’reinagoodmood,this
couldbegreat.”
“Andifthey’reinabadmood?”
“Thenwe’llcheerthemupbeforetheycanboilus.Followme!”
Scaleofonetoten
Howwouldyourateyourdemise?
Thanksforyourinput
WASIRECKLESStorushtowardsuchvolatilenaturegods?
Please.Second-guessingmyselfisnotinmynature.It’satraitI’veneverneeded.
True,mymemoriesaboutthepalikoiwerealittlehazy.AsIrecalled,thegeysergodsinancient
Sicilyusedtogiverefugetorunawayslaves,sotheymustbekindlyspirits.Perhapstheywouldalso
giverefugetolostdemigods,oratleastnoticewhenfiveofthemwanderedthroughtheirterritory,
mutteringincoherently.Besides,IwasApollo!Thepalikoiwouldbehonoredtomeetamajor
Olympiansuchasmyself!Thefactthatgeysersoftenblewtheirtops,spewingcolumnsofscalding
hotwaterhundredsoffeetintheair,wasn’tgoingtostopmefrommakingsomenewfans…Imean
friends.
Theclearingopenedbeforeuslikeanovendoor.Awallofheatbillowedthroughthetreesand
washedovermyface.Icouldfeelmyporesopeningtodrinkinthemoisture,whichwouldhopefully
helpmyspottycomplexion.
ThescenebeforeushadnobusinessbeinginaLongIslandwinter.Glisteningvineswreathedthe
treebranches.Tropicalflowersbloomedfromtheforestfloor.Aredparrotsatonabananatree
heavywithgreenbunches.
Inthemidstofthegladestoodtwogeysers—twinholesintheground,ringedwithafigureeight
ofgraymudpots.Thecratersbubbledandhissed,buttheywerenotspewingatthemoment.Idecided
totakethatasagoodomen.
Meg’sbootssquishedinthemud.“Isitsafe?”
“Definitelynot,”Isaid.“We’llneedanoffering.Perhapsyourpacketofseeds?”
Megpunchedmyarm.“Thosearemagic.Forlife-and-deathemergencies.Whataboutyour
ukulele?You’renotgoingtoplayitanyway.”
“Amanofhonorneversurrendershisukulele.”Iperkedup.“Butwait.You’vegivenmeanidea.I
willofferthegeysergodsapoem!Icanstilldothat.Itdoesn’tcountasmusic.”
Megfrowned.“Uh,Idon’tknowif—”
“Don’tbeenvious,Meg.Iwillmakeupapoemforyoulater.Thiswillsurelypleasethegeyser
gods!”Iwalkedforward,spreadmyarms,andbegantoimprovise:
Oh,geyser,mygeyser,
tusspewthen,youandI,
ponthismidnightdreary,whileweponder
hosewoodsarethese?
rwehavenotgonegentleintothisgoodnight,
thavewanderedlonelyasclouds.
eseektoknowforwhomthebelltolls,
Ihope,springseternal,
atthetimehascometotalkofmanythings!”
Idon’twishtobrag,butIthoughtitwasrathergood,evenifIdidrecycleafewbitsfrommy
earlierworks.Unlikemymusicandarchery,mygodlyskillswithpoetryseemedtobecompletely
intact.
IglancedatMeg,hopingtoseeshiningadmirationonherface.Itwashightimethegirlstartedto
appreciateme.Instead,hermouthhungopen,aghast.
“What?”Idemanded.“Didyoufailpoetryappreciationinschool?Thatwasfirst-ratestuff!”
Megpointedtowardthegeysers.Irealizedshewasnotlookingatmeatall.
“Well,”saidaraspyvoice,“yougotmyattention.”
Oneofthepalikoihoveredoverhisgeyser.Hislowerhalfwasnothingbutsteam.Fromthewaist
up,hewasperhapstwicethesizeofahuman,withmusculararmsthecolorofcalderamud,chalkwhiteeyes,andhairlikecappuccinofoam,asifhehadshampooedvigorouslyandleftitsudsy.His
massivechestwasstuffedintoababy-bluepoloshirtwithalogooftreesembroideredonthechest
pocket.
“O,GreatPalikos!”Isaid.“Webeseechyou—”
“Whatwasthat?”thespiritinterrupted.“Thatstuffyouweresaying?”
“Poetry!”Isaid.“Foryou!”
Hetappedhismud-graychin.“No.Thatwasn’tpoetry.”
Icouldn’tbelieveit.Didnooneappreciatethebeautyoflanguageanymore?“Mygoodspirit,”I
said.“Poetrydoesn’thavetorhyme,youknow.”
“I’mnottalkingaboutrhyming.I’mtalkingaboutgettingyourmessageacross.Wedoalotof
marketresearch,andthatwouldnotflyforourcampaign.Now,theOscarMeyerWeinersong—that
ispoetry.Theadisfiftyyearsoldandpeoplearestillsingingit.Doyouthinkyoucouldgiveussome
poetrylikethat?”
IglancedatMegtobesureIwasnotimaginingthisconversation.
“Listenhere,”Itoldthegeysergod,“I’vebeenthelordofpoetryforfourthousandyears.Iought
toknowgoodpoetry—”
Thepalikoswavedhishands.“Let’sstartover.I’llrunthroughourspiel,andmaybeyoucan
adviseme.Hi,I’mPete.WelcometotheWoodsatCampHalf-Blood!Wouldyoubewillingtotakea
shortcustomersatisfactionsurveyafterthisencounter?Yourfeedbackisimportant.”
“Um—”
“Great.Thanks.”
Petefishedaroundinhisvaporousregionwherehispocketswouldbe.Heproducedaglossy
brochureandbegantoread.“TheWoodsareyourone-stopdestinationfor…Hmm,itsaysfun.I
thoughtwechangedthattoexhilaration.See,you’vegottochooseyourwordswithcare.IfPaulie
werehere…”Petesighed.“Well,he’sbetterwiththeshowmanship.Anyway,welcometotheWoodsat
CampHalf-Blood!”
“Youalreadysaidthat,”Inoted.
“Oh,right.”Peteproducedaredpenandbegantoedit.
“Hey.”Megshoulderedpastme.Shehadbeenspeechlesswithaweforabouttwelveseconds,
whichmust’vebeenanewrecord.“Mr.SteamyMud,haveyouseenanylostdemigods?”
“Mr.SteamyMud!”Peteslappedhisbrochure.“Thatiseffectivebranding!Andgreatpointabout
lostdemigods.Wecan’thaveourguestswanderingaroundaimlessly.Weshouldbehandingoutmaps
attheentrancetothewoods.Somanywonderfulthingstoseeinhere,andnooneevenknowsabout
them.I’lltalktoPauliewhenhegetsback.”
Megtookoffherfogged-upglasses.“Who’sPaulie?”
Petegesturedatthesecondgeyser.“Mypartner.Maybewecouldaddamaptothisbrochureif—”
“Sohaveyouseenanylostdemigods?”Iasked.
“What?”Petetriedtomarkhisbrochure,butthesteamhadmadeitsosoggy,hisredpenwent
rightthroughthepaper.“Oh,no.Notrecently.Butweshouldhavebettersignage.Forinstance,did
youevenknowthesegeyserswerehere?”
“No,”Iadmitted.
“Well,thereyougo!Doublegeysers—theonlyonesonLongIsland!—andnooneevenknows
aboutus.Nooutreach.Noword-of-mouth.Thisiswhyweconvincedtheboardofdirectorstohire
us!”
MegandIlookedateachother.Icouldtellthatforoncewewereonthesamewavelength:utter
confusion.
“Sorry,”Isaid.“Areyoutellingmetheforesthasaboardofdirectors?”
“Well,ofcourse,”Petesaid.“Thedryads,theothernaturespirits,thesentientmonsters…Imean,
somebodyhastothinkaboutpropertyvaluesandservicesandpublicrelations.Itwasn’teasygetting
theboardtohireusformarketing,either.Ifwemessupthisjob…oh,man.”
Megsquishedhershoesinthemud.“Canwego?Idon’tunderstandwhatthisguy’stalkingabout.”
“Andthat’stheproblem!”Petemoaned.“Howdowewriteclearadcopythatconveystheright
imageoftheWoods?Forinstance,palikoilikePaulieandmeusedtobefamous!Majortourist
destinations!Peoplewouldcometoustomakebindingoaths.Runawayslaveswouldseekusoutfor
shelter.We’dgetsacrifices,offerings,prayers…itwasgreat.Now,nothing.”
Iheavedasigh.“Iknowhowyoufeel.”
“Guys,”Megsaid,“we’relookingformissingdemigods.”
“Right,”Iagreed.“O,Great…Pete,doyouhaveanyideawhereourlostfriendsmighthavegone?
Perhapsyouknowofsomesecretlocationswithinthewoods?”
Pete’schalk-whiteeyesbrightened.“DidyouknowthechildrenofHephaestushaveahidden
workshoptothenorthcalledBunkerNine?”
“Idid,actually,”Isaid.
“Oh.”ApuffofsteamescapedPete’sleftnostril.“Well,didyouknowtheLabyrinthhasrebuilt
itself?Thereisanentrancerighthereinthewoods—”
“Weknow,”Megsaid.
Petelookedcrestfallen.
“Butperhaps,”Isaid,“that’sbecauseyourmarketingcampaignisworking.”
“Doyouthinkso?”Pete’sfoamyhairbegantoswirl.“Yes.Yes,thatmaybetrue!Didyouhappen
toseeourspotlights,too?Thoseweremyidea.”
“Spotlights?”Megasked.
Twinbeamsofredlightblastedfromthegeysersandsweptacrossthesky.Litfrombeneath,Pete
lookedliketheworld’sscariesttellerofghoststories.
“Unfortunately,theyattractedthewrongkindofattention.”Petesighed.“Pauliedoesn’tletmeuse
themoften.Hesuggestedadvertisingonablimpinstead,orperhapsagiantinflatableKingKong—”
“That’scool,”Meginterrupted.“Butcanyoutellusanythingaboutasecretgrovewithwhispering
trees?”
Ihadtoadmit,Megwasgoodatgettingusbackontopic.Asapoet,Ididnotcultivatedirectness.
Butasanarcher,Icouldappreciatethevalueofastraightshot.
“Oh.”Petefloatedlowerinhiscloudofsteam,thespotlightturninghimthecolorofcherrysoda.
“I’mnotsupposedtotalkaboutthegrove.”
Myonce-godlyearstingled.Iresistedtheurgetoscream,AHA!“Whycan’tyoutalkaboutthe
grove,Pete?”
Thespiritfiddledwithhissoggybrochure.“Pauliesaiditwouldscareawaytourists.‘Talkabout
thedragons,’hetoldme.‘Talkaboutthewolvesandserpentsandancientkillingmachines.Butdon’t
mentionthegrove.’”
“Ancientkillingmachines?”Megasked.
“Yeah,”Petesaidhalfheartedly.“We’remarketingthemasfunfamilyentertainment.Butthe
grove…Pauliesaidthatwasourworstproblem.Theneighborhoodisn’tevenzonedforanOracle.
Pauliewenttheretoseeifmaybewecouldrelocateit,but—”
“Hedidn’tcomeback,”Iguessed.
Petenoddedmiserably.“HowamIsupposedtorunthemarketingcampaignallbymyself?Sure,I
canuserobo-callsforthephonesurveys,butalotofnetworkinghastobedoneface-to-face,and
Pauliewasalwaysbetterwiththatstuff.”Pete’svoicebrokeintoasadhiss.“Imisshim.”
“Maybewecouldfindhim,”Megsuggested,“andbringhimback.”
Peteshookhishead.“Pauliemademepromisenottofollowhimandnottotellanybodyelse
wherethegroveis.He’sprettygoodatresistingthoseweirdvoices,butyouguyswouldn’tstanda
chance.”
Iwastemptedtoagree.Findingancientkillingmachinessoundedmuchmorereasonable.ThenI
picturedKaylaandAustinwanderingthroughtheancientgrove,slowlygoingmad.Theyneededme,
whichmeantIneededtheirlocation.
“Sorry,Pete.”Igavehimmymostcriticalstare—theoneIusedtocrushaspiringsingersduring
Broadwayauditions.“I’mjustnotbuyingit.”
MudbubbledaroundPete’scaldera.“Wh-whatdoyoumean?”
“Idon’tthinkthisgroveexists,”Isaid.“Andifitdoes,Idon’tthinkyouknowitslocation.”
Pete’sgeyserrumbled.Steamswirledinhisspotlightbeam.“I—Idoknow!Ofcourseitexists!”
“Oh,really?Thenwhyaren’ttherebillboardsaboutitallovertheplace?AndadedicatedWeb
site?Whyhaven’tIseenagroveofdodonahashtagonsocialmedia?”
Peteglowered.“Isuggestedallthat!Paulieshotmedown!”
“Sodosomeoutreach!”Idemanded.“Sellusonyourproduct!Showuswherethisgroveis!”
“Ican’t.Theonlyentrance…”Heglancedovermyshoulderandhisfacewentslack.“Ah,spew.”
Hisspotlightsshutoff.
Iturned.Megmadeasquelchingsoundevenlouderthanhershoesinthemud.
Ittookamomentformyvisiontoadjust,butattheedgeoftheclearingstoodthreeblackantsthe
sizeofShermantanks.
“Pete,”Isaid,tryingtoremaincalm,“whenyousaidyourspotlightsattractedthewrongkindof
attention—”
“Imeantthemyrmekes,”hesaid.“Ihopethiswon’taffectyouronlinereviewoftheWoodsat
CampHalf-Blood.”
Breakingmypromise
Spectacularlyfailing
IblameNeilDiamond
MYRMEKESSHOULDBEhighonyourlistofmonstersnottofight.
Theyattackingroups.Theyspitacid.TheirpincerscansnapthroughCelestialbronze.
Also,theyareugly.
Thethreesoldierantsadvanced,theirten-foot-longantennaewavingandbobbingina
mesmerizingway,tryingtodistractmefromthetruedangeroftheirmandibles.
Theirbeakedheadsremindedmeofchickens—chickenswithdarkflateyesandblackarmored
faces.Eachoftheirsixlegswouldhavemadeafineconstructionwinch.Theiroversizeabdomens
throbbedandpulsedlikenosessniffingforfood.
IsilentlycursedZeusforinventingants.ThewayIheardit,hegotupsetwithsomegreedyman
whowasalwaysstealingfromhisneighbors’crops,soZeusturnedhimintothefirstant—aspecies
thatdoesnothingbutscavenge,steal,andbreed.AreslikedtojokethatifZeuswantedsuchaspecies,
hecould’vejustlefthumansthewaytheywere.Iusedtolaugh.NowthatIamoneofyou,Inolonger
finditfunny.
Theantssteppedtowardus,theirantennaetwitching.Iimaginedtheirtrainofthoughtwas
somethinglikeShiny?Tasty?Defenseless?
“Nosuddenmovements,”ItoldMeg,whodidnotseeminclinedtomoveatall.Infact,shelooked
petrified.
“Oh,Pete?”Icalled.“Howdoyoudealwithmyrmekesinvadingyourterritory?”
“Byhiding,”hesaid,anddisappearedintothegeyser.
“Nothelpful,”Igrumbled.
“Canwedivein?”Megasked.
“Onlyifyoufancyboilingtodeathinapitofscaldingwater.”
Thetankbugsclackedtheirmandiblesandedgedcloser.
“Ihaveanidea.”Iunslungmyukulele.
“Ithoughtyousworenottoplay,”Megsaid.
“Idid.ButifIthrowthisshinyobjecttooneside,theantsmight—”
Iwasabouttosaytheantsmightfollowitandleaveusalone.
Ineglectedtoconsiderthat,inmyhands,theukulelemademelookshinierandtastier.BeforeI
couldthrowtheinstrument,thesoldierantssurgedtowardus.Istumbledback,onlyrememberingthe
geyserbehindmewhenmyshoulderbladesbegantoblister,fillingtheairwithApollo-scentedsteam.
“Hey,bugs!”Meg’sscimitarsflashedinherhands,makingherthenewshiniestthinginthe
clearing.
CanwetakeamomenttoappreciatethatMegdidthisonpurpose?Terrifiedofinsects,shecould
havefledandleftmetobedevoured.Instead,shechosetoriskherlifebydistractingthreetank-size
ants.Throwinggarbageatstreetthugswasonething.Butthis…thiswasanentirelynewlevelof
foolishness.IfIlived,ImighthavetonominateMegMcCaffreyforBestSacrificeatthenextDemi
Awards.
TwooftheantschargedatMeg.Thethirdstayedonme,thoughheturnedhisheadlongenough
formetosprinttooneside.
Megranbetweenheropponents,hergoldenbladesseveringalegfromeach.Theirmandibles
snappedatemptyair.Thesoldierbugswobbledontheirfiveremaininglegs,triedtoturn,andbonked
heads.
Meanwhile,thethirdantchargedme.Inapanic,Ithrewmycombatukulele.Itbouncedoffthe
ant’sforeheadwithadissonanttwang.
Ituggedmyswordfreeofitsscabbard.I’vealwayshatedswords.Suchinelegantweapons,and
theyrequireyoutobeinclosecombat.Howunwise,whenyoucanshootyourenemieswithanarrow
fromacrosstheworld!
Theantspitacid,andItriedtoswatawaythegoop.
Perhapsthatwasn’tthebrightestidea.Ioftengotswordfightingandtennisconfused.Atleast
someoftheacidsplatteredtheant’seyes,whichboughtmeafewseconds.Ivaliantlyretreated,
raisingmyswordonlytofindthatthebladehadbeeneatenaway,leavingmenothingbutasteaming
hilt.
“Oh,Meg?”Icalledhelplessly.
Shewasotherwiseoccupied.Herswordswhirledingoldenarcsofdestruction,loppingoffleg
segments,slicingantennae.Ihadneverseenadimachaerusfightwithsuchskill,andIhadseenallthe
bestgladiatorsincombat.Unfortunately,herbladesonlysparkedofftheants’thickmaincarapaces.
Glancingblowsanddismembermentdidnotfazethematall.AsgoodasMegwas,theantshadmore
legs,moreweight,moreferocity,andslightlymoreacid-spittingability.
Myownopponentsnappedatme.Imanagedtoavoiditsmandibles,butitsarmoredfacebashed
thesideofmyhead.Istaggeredandfell.Oneearcanalseemedtofillwithmolteniron.
Myvisionclouded.Acrosstheclearing,theotherantsflankedMeg,usingtheiracidtoherdher
towardthewoods.Shedovebehindatreeandcameupwithonlyoneofherblades.Shetriedtostab
theclosestantbutwasdrivenbackbyacidcrossfire.Herleggingsweresmoking,pepperedwith
holes.Herfacewastightwithpain.
“Peaches,”Imutteredtomyself.“Whereisthatstupiddiaperdemonwhenweneedhim?”
Thekarposdidnotappear.Perhapsthepresenceofthegeysergodsorsomeotherforceinthe
woodskepthimaway.Perhapstheboardofdirectorshadaruleagainstpets.
Thethirdantloomedoverme,itsmandiblesfoamingwithgreensaliva.Itsbreathsmelledworse
thanHephaestus’sworkshirts.
MynextdecisionIcouldblameonmyheadinjury.IcouldtellyouIwasn’tthinkingclearly,but
thatisn’ttrue.Iwasdesperate.Iwasterrified.IwantedtohelpMeg.MostlyIwantedtosavemyself.I
sawnootheroption,soIdoveformyukulele.
Iknow.IpromisedontheRiverStyxnottoplaymusicuntilIwasagodoncemore.Butevensuch
adireoathcanseemunimportantwhenagiantantisabouttomeltyourfaceoff.
Igrabbedtheinstrument,rolledontomyback,andbeltedout“SweetCaroline.”
Evenwithoutmyoath,Iwouldonlyhavedonesomethinglikethatinthemostextremeemergency.
WhenIsingthatsong,thechancesofmutuallyassureddestructionaretoogreat.ButIsawnoother
choice.Igaveitmyutmosteffort,channelingallthesaccharineschmaltzIcouldmusterfromthe
1970s.
Thegiantantshookitshead.Itsantennaequivered.Igottomyfeetasthemonstercrawled
drunkenlytowardme.Iputmybacktothegeyserandlaunchedintothechorus.
TheDah!Dah!Dah!didthetrick.Blindedbydisgustandrage,theantcharged.Irolledasideas
themonster ’smomentumcarrieditforward,straightintothemuddycauldron.
Believeme,theonlythingthatsmellsworsethanHephaestus’sworkshirtsisamyrmekeboiling
initsownshell.
Somewherebehindme,Megscreamed.Iturnedintimetoseehersecondswordflyfromher
hand.Shecollapsedasoneofthemyrmekescaughtherinitsmandibles.
“NO!”Ishrieked.
Theantdidnotsnapherinhalf.Itsimplyheldher—limpandunconscious.
“Meg!”Iyelledagain.Istrummedtheukuleledesperately.“SweetCaroline!”
Butmyvoicewasgone.Defeatingoneanthadtakenallmyenergy.(Idon’tthinkIhaveever
writtenasaddersentencethanthat.)ItriedtoruntoMeg’said,butIstumbledandfell.Theworld
turnedpaleyellow.Ihunchedonallfoursandvomited.
Ihaveaconcussion,Ithought,butIhadnoideawhattodoaboutit.ItseemedlikeagessinceIhad
beenagodofhealing.
Imayhavelayinthemudforminutesorhourswhilemybrainslowlygyratedinsidemyskull.By
thetimeImanagedtostand,thetwoantsweregone.
TherewasnosignofMegMcCaffrey.
I’monarollnow
Boiling,burning,throwingup
Lions?Hey,whynot?
ISTUMBLEDTHROUGHtheglade,shoutingMeg’sname.Iknewitwaspointless,butyellingfelt
good.Ilookedforsignsofbrokenbranchesortrampledground.Surelytwotank-sizeantswould
leaveatrailIcouldfollow.ButIwasnotArtemis;Ididnothavemysister ’sskillwithtracking.Ihad
noideawhichdirectionthey’dtakenmyfriend.
IretrievedMeg’sswordsfromthemud.Instantly,theychangedintogoldrings—sosmall,so
easilylost,likeamortallife.Imayhavecried.Itriedtobreakmyridiculouscombatukulele,butthe
Celestialbronzeinstrumentdefiedmyattempts.Finally,IyankedofftheAstring,threadeditthrough
Meg’srings,andtiedthemaroundmyneck.
“Meg,Iwillfindyou,”Imuttered.
Herabductionwasmyfault.Iwassureofthis.Byplayingmusicandsavingmyself,Ihadbroken
myoathontheRiverStyx.Insteadofpunishingmedirectly,ZeusortheFatesorallthegodstogether
hadvisitedtheirwrathuponMegMcCaffrey.
HowcouldIhavebeensofoolish?WheneverIangeredtheothergods,thoseclosesttomewere
struckdown.I’dlostDaphnebecauseofonecarelesscommenttoEros.I’dlostthebeautiful
HyacinthusbecauseofaquarrelwithZephyros.NowmybrokenoathwouldcostMegherlife.
No,Itoldmyself.Iwon’tallowit.
Iwassonauseous,Icouldbarelywalk.Someoneseemedtobeinflatingaballooninsidemybrain.
YetImanagedtostumbletotherimofPete’sgeyser.
“Pete!”Ishouted.“Showyourself,youcowardlytelemarketer!”
Watershotskywardwithasoundliketheblastofanorgan’slowestpipe.Intheswirlingsteam,the
palikosappeared,hismud-grayfacehardeningwithanger.
“YoucallmeaTELEMARKETER?”hedemanded.“Werunafull-servicePRfirm!”
Idoubledoverandvomitedinhiscrater,whichIthoughtanappropriateresponse.
“Stopthat!”Petecomplained.
“IneedtofindMeg.”Iwipedmymouthwithashakyhand.“Whatwouldthemyrmekesdowith
her?”
“Idon’tknow!”
“TellmeorIwillnotcompleteyourcustomerservicesurvey.”
Petegasped.“That’sterrible!Yourfeedbackisimportant!”Hefloateddowntomyside.“Oh,
dear…yourheaddoesn’tlookgood.You’vegotabiggashonyourscalp,andthere’sblood.That
mustbewhyyou’renotthinkingclearly.”
“Idon’tcare!”Iyelled,whichonlymadethepoundinginmyheadworse.“Whereisthe
myrmekes’nest?”
Petewrunghissteamyhands.“Well,that’swhatweweretalkingaboutearlier.That’swherePaulie
went.Thenestistheonlyentrance.”
“Towhat?”
“TotheGroveofDodona.”
Mystomachsolidifiedintoapackofice,whichwasunfair,becauseIneededoneformyhead.
“Theantnest…isthewaytothegrove?”
“Look,youneedmedicalattention.ItoldPaulieweshouldhaveafirst-aidstationforvisitors.”He
fishedaroundinhisnonexistentpockets.“LetmejustmarkthelocationoftheApollocabin—”
“Ifyoupulloutabrochure,”Iwarned,“Iwillmakeyoueatit.Now,explainhowthenestleadsto
thegrove.”
Pete’sfaceturnedyellow,orperhapsthatwasjustmyvisiongettingworse.“Pauliedidn’ttellme
everything.There’sthisthicketofwoodsthat’sgrownsodense,nobodycangetin.Imean,evenfrom
above,thebranchesarelike…”Helacedhismuddyfingers,thencausedthemtoliquefyandmeltinto
oneanother,whichmadehispointquitewell.
“Anyway”—hepulledhishandsapart—“thegroveisinthere.Itcouldhavebeenslumberingfor
centuries.Nobodyontheboardofdirectorsevenknewaboutit.Then,allofasudden,thetreesstarted
whispering.Pauliefiguredthosedarnedantsmusthaveburrowedintothegrovefromunderneath,
andthat’swhatwokeitup.”
Itriedtomakesenseofthat.Itwasdifficultwithaswollenbrain.“Whichwayisthenest?”
“Northofhere,”Petesaid.“Halfamile.But,man,youareinnoshape—”
“Imust!Megneedsme!”
Petegrabbedmyarm.Hisgripwaslikeawarmwettourniquet.“She’sgottime.Iftheycarriedher
offinonepiece,thatmeansshe’snotdeadyet.”
“Shewillbesoonenough!”
“Nah.BeforePaulie…beforehedisappeared,hewentintothatnestafewtimeslookingforthe
tunneltothegrove.Hetoldmethosemyrmekesliketogoopuptheirvictimsandletthem,um,ripen
untilthey’resoftenoughforthehatchlingstoeat.”
Imadeanun-godlikesqueak.Iftherehadbeenanythingleftinmystomach,Iwouldhavelostit.
“Howlongdoesshehave?”
“Twenty-fourhours,giveortake.Thenshe’llstartto…um,soften.”
ItwasdifficulttoimagineMegMcCaffreysofteningunderanycircumstances,butIpicturedher
aloneandscared,encasedininsectgoop,tuckedinsomelarderofcarcassesintheants’nest.Fora
girlwhohatedbugs—Oh,Demeterhadbeenrighttohatemeandkeepherchildrenawayfromme.I
wasaterriblegod!
“Gogetsomehelp,”Peteurged.“TheApollocabincanhealthatheadwound.You’renotdoing
yourfriendanyfavorsbychargingafterherandgettingyourselfkilled.”
“Whydoyoucarewhathappenstous?”
Thegeysergodlookedoffended.“Visitorsatisfactionisalwaysourtoppriority!Besides,ifyou
findPauliewhileyou’reinthere…”
Itriedtostayangryatthepalikos,butthelonelinessandworryonhisfacemirroredmyown
feelings.“DidPaulieexplainhowtonavigatetheants’nest?”
Peteshookhishead.“LikeIsaid,hedidn’twantmetofollowhim.Themyrmekesaredangerous
enough.Andifthoseotherguysarestillwanderingaround—”
“Otherguys?”
Petefrowned.“Didn’tImentionthat?Yeah.Pauliesawthreehumans,heavilyarmed.Theywere
lookingforthegrovetoo.”
Myleftlegstartedthumpingnervously,asifitmisseditsthree-leggedracepartner.“Howdid
Paulieknowwhattheywerelookingfor?”
“HeheardthemtalkinginLatin.”
“Latin?Weretheycampers?”
Petespreadhishands.“I—Idon’tthinkso.Pauliedescribedthemliketheywereadults.Hesaid
oneofthemwastheleader.Theothertwoaddressedhimasimperator.”
Theentireplanetseemedtotilt.“Imperator.”
“Yeah,youknow,likeinRome—”
“Yes,Iknow.”Suddenly,toomanythingsmadesense.Piecesofthepuzzleflewtogether,forming
onehugepicturethatsmackedmeintheface.TheBeast…TriumvirateHoldings…adultdemigods
completelyofftheradar.
ItwasallIcoulddotoavoidpitchingforwardintothegeyser.Megneededmemorethanever.But
Iwouldhavetodothisright.Iwouldhavetobecareful—evenmorecarefulthanwhenIgavethe
fieryhorsesofthesuntheiryearlyvaccinations.
“Pete,”Isaid,“doyoustilloverseesacredoaths?”
“Well,yes,but—”
“Thenhearmysolemnoath!”
“Uh,thethingis,you’vegotthisauraaroundyoulikeyoujustbrokeasacredoath,maybeone
yousworeontheRiverStyx?Andifyoubreakanotheroathwithme—”
“IswearthatIwillsaveMegMcCaffrey.Iwilluseeverymeansatmydisposaltobringhersafely
fromtheants’lair,andthisoathsupersedesanypreviousoathIhavemade.ThisIswearuponyour
sacredandextremelyhotwaters!”
Petewinced.“Well,okay.It’sdonenow.Butkeepinmindthatifyoudon’tkeepthatoath,ifMeg
dies,evenifit’snotyourfault…you’llfacetheconsequences.”
“Iamalreadycursedforbreakingmyearlieroath!Whatdoesitmatter?”
“Yeah,butsee,thoseRiverStyxoathscantakeyearstodestroyyou.They’relikecancer.My
oaths…”Peteshrugged.“Ifyoubreakit,there’snothingIcandotostopyourpunishment.Wherever
youare,ageyserwillinstantlyblastthroughthegroundatyourfeetandboilyoualive.”
“Ah…”Itriedtostopmykneesfromknocking.“Yes,ofcourseIknewthat.Istandbymyoath.”
“You’vegotnochoicenow.”
“Right.IthinkI’ll—I’llgogethealed.”
Istaggeredoff.
“Campistheotherdirection,”Petesaid.
Ichangedcourse.
“Remembertocompleteoursurveyonline!”Petecalledafterme.“Justcurious,onascaleofone
toten,howwouldyourateyouroverallsatisfactionwiththeWoodsatCampHalf-Blood?”
Ididn’treply.AsIstumbledintothedarkness,Iwastoobusycontemplating,onascaleofoneto
ten,thepainImighthavetoendureinthenearfuture.
Ididn’thavethestrengthtomakeitbacktocamp.ThefartherIwalked,theclearerthatbecame.My
jointswerepudding.Ifeltlikeamarionette,andasmuchasI’denjoyedcontrollingmortalsfrom
aboveinthepast,Ididnotrelishbeingontheotherendofthestrings.
Mydefenseswereatlevelzero.Thesmallesthellhoundordragoncouldhaveeasilymadeameal
ofthegreatApollo.Ifanirritatedbadgerhadtakenissuewithme,Iwouldhavebeendoomed.
Ileanedagainstatreetocatchmybreath.Thetreeseemedtopushmeaway,whisperinginavoice
Irememberedsowell:Keepmoving,Apollo.Youcan’tresthere.
“Ilovedyou,”Imuttered.
PartofmeknewIwasdelirious—imaginingthingsonlybecauseofmyconcussion—butIsworeI
couldseethefaceofmybelovedDaphnerisingfromeachtreetrunkIpassed,herfeaturesfloating
underthebarklikeamirageofwood—herslightlycrookednose,heroffsetgreeneyes,thoselipsI
hadneverkissedbutneverstoppeddreamingof.
Youlovedeveryprettygirl,shescolded.Andeveryprettyboy,forthatmatter.
“Notlikeyou,”Icried.“Youweremyfirsttruelove.Oh,Daphne!”
Wearmycrown,shesaid.Andrepent.
Irememberedchasingher—herlilacscentonthebreeze,herlitheformflittingthroughthe
dappledlightoftheforest.Ipursuedherforwhatseemedlikeyears.Perhapsitwas.
Forcenturiesafterward,IblamedEros.
Inamomentofrecklessness,IhadridiculedEros’sarcheryskills.Outofspite,hestruckmewith
agoldenarrow.HebentallmylovetowardthebeautifulDaphne,butthatwasnottheworstofit.He
alsostruckDaphne’sheartwithaleadarrow,leechingallpossibleaffectionshemighthavehadfor
me.
Whatpeopledonotunderstand:Eros’sarrowscan’tsummonemotionfromnothing.Theycan
onlycultivatepotentialthatisalreadythere.DaphneandIcouldhavebeenaperfectpair.Shewasmy
truelove.Shecouldhavelovedmeback.YetthankstoEros,mylove-o-meterwascrankedtoone
hundredpercent,whileDaphne’sfeelingsturnedtopurehate(whichis,ofcourse,onlytheflipsideof
love).Nothingismoretragicthanlovingsomeonetothedepthsofyoursoulandknowingthey
cannotandwillnoteverloveyouback.
ThestoriessayIchasedheronawhim,thatshewasjustanotherprettydress.Thestoriesare
wrong.WhenshebeggedGaeatoturnherintoalaureltreeinordertoescapeme,partofmyheart
hardenedintobarkaswell.Iinventedthelaurelwreathtocommemoratemyfailure—topunish
myselfforthefateofmygreatestlove.Everytimesomeherowinsthelaurels,Iamremindedofthe
girlIcanneverwin.
AfterDaphne,IsworeIwouldnevermarry.SometimesIclaimedthatwasbecauseIcouldn’t
decidebetweentheNineMuses.Aconvenientstory.TheNineMusesweremyconstantcompanions,
allofthembeautifulintheirownway.ButtheyneverpossessedmyheartlikeDaphnedid.Onlyone
otherpersoneveraffectedmesodeeply—theperfectHyacinthus—andhe,too,wastakenfromme.
Allthesethoughtsrambledthroughmybruisedbrain.Istaggeredfromtreetotree,leaning
againstthem,grabbingtheirlowestbrancheslikehandrails.
Youcannotdiehere,Daphnewhispered.Youhaveworktodo.Youmadeanoath.
Yes,myoath.Megneededme.Ihadto…
Ifellfaceforwardintheicymulch.
HowlongIlaythere,I’mnotsure.
Awarmsnoutbreathedinmyear.Aroughtonguelappedmyface.IthoughtIwasdeadand
CerberushadfoundmeatthegatesoftheUnderworld.
Thenthebeastpushedmeoverontomyback.Darktreebrancheslacedthesky.Iwasstillinthe
forest.Thegoldenvisageofalionappearedaboveme,hisambereyesbeautifulanddeadly.Helicked
myface,perhapstryingtodecideifIwouldmakeagoodsupper.
“Ptfh.”Ispitmanefuroutofmymouth.
“Wakeup,”saidawoman’svoice,somewheretomyright.Itwasn’tDaphne,butitwasvaguely
familiar.
Imanagedtoraisemyhead.Nearby,asecondlionsatatthefeetofawomanwithtintedglasses
andasilver-and-goldtiarainherbraidedhair.Herbatikdressswirledwithimagesoffernfronds.
Herarmsandhandswerecoveredinhennatattoos.Shelookeddifferentthanshehadinmydream,
butIrecognizedher.
“Rhea,”Icroaked.
Sheinclinedherhead.“Peace,Apollo.Idon’twanttobumyouout,butweneedtotalk.”
Imperatorshere?
Gagmewithapeacesymbol
Notgroovy,Mama
MYHEADWOUNDMUSThavetastedlikeWagyubeef.
Thelionkeptlickingthesideofmyface,makingmyhairstickierandwetter.Strangely,this
seemedtoclearmythoughts.Perhapslionsalivahadcurativeproperties.IguessIshouldhaveknown
that,beingagodofhealing,butyou’llhavetoexcusemeifIhaven’tdonetrial-and-error
experimentswiththedroolofeverysingleanimal.
Withdifficulty,IsatupandfacedtheTitanqueen.
RhealeanedagainstthesideofaVWsafarivanpaintedwithswirlingblackfronddesignslike
thoseonherdress.IseemedtorecallthattheblackfernwasoneofRhea’ssymbols,butIcouldn’t
rememberwhy.Amongthegods,Rheahadalwaysbeensomethingofamystery.EvenZeus,who
knewherbest,didnotoftenspeakofher.
Herturretcrowncircledherbrowlikeaglitteringrailroadtrack.Whenshelookeddownatme,
hertintedglasseschangedfromorangetopurple.Amacramébeltcinchedherwaist,andonachain
aroundherneckhungherbrasspeacesymbol.
Shesmiled.“Gladyou’reawake.Iwasworried,man.”
Ireallywishedpeoplewouldstopcallingmeman.“Whyareyou…Wherehaveyoubeenallthese
centuries?”
“Upstate.”Shescratchedherlion’sears.“AfterWoodstock,Istuckaround,startedapottery
studio.”
“You…what?”
Shetiltedherhead.“Wasthatlastweekorlastmillennium?I’velosttrack.”
“I—Ibelieveyou’redescribingthe1960s.Thatwaslastcentury.”
“Oh,bummer.”Rheasighed.“Igetmixedupaftersomanyyears.”
“Isympathize.”
“AfterIleftKronos…well,thatmanwassosquare,youcouldcutyourselfonhiscorners,you
knowwhatImean?Hewastheultimate1950sdad—wantedustobeOzzieandHarrietorLucyand
Rickyorsomething.”
“He—heswallowedhischildrenalive.”
“Yeah.”Rheabrushedherhairfromherface.“Thatwassomebadkarma.Anyway,Ilefthim.
Backthendivorcewasn’tcool.Youjustdidn’tdoit.Butme,Iburnedmyapodesmosandgotliberated.
IraisedZeusinacommunewithabunchofnaiadsandkouretes.Lotsofwheatgermandnectar.The
kidgrewupwithastrongAquarianvibe.”
IwasfairlysureRheawasmisrememberinghercenturies,butIthoughtitwouldbeimpoliteto
keeppointingthatout.
“YouremindmeofIris,”Isaid.“Shewentorganicveganseveraldecadesago.”
Rheamadeaface—justarippleofdisapprovalbeforeregainingherkarmicbalance.“Irisisa
goodsoul.Idigher.Butyouknow,theseyoungergoddesses,theyweren’taroundtofightthe
revolution.Theydon’tgetwhatitwaslikewhenyouroldmanwaseatingyourchildrenandyou
couldn’tgetarealjobandtheTitanchauvinistsjustwantedyoutostayhomeandcookandcleanand
havemoreOlympianbabies.AndspeakingofIris…”
Rheatouchedherforehead.“Wait,werewespeakingofIris?OrdidIjusthaveaflashback?”
“Ihonestlydon’tknow.”
“Oh,Iremembernow.She’samessengerofthegods,right?AlongwithHermesandthatother
groovyliberatedchick…JoanofArc?”
“Er,I’mnotsureaboutthatlastone.”
“Well,anyway,thecommunicationlinesaredown,man.Nothingworks.Rainbowmessages,
flyingscrolls,HermesExpress…it’sallgoinghaywire.”
“Weknowthis.Butwedon’tknowwhy.”
“It’sthem.They’redoingit.”
“Who?”
Sheglancedtoeitherside.“TheMan,man.BigBrother.Thesuits.Theimperators.”
Ihadbeenhopingshewouldsaysomethingelse:giants,Titans,ancientkillingmachines,aliens.I
would’verathertangledwithTartarusorOuranosorPrimordialChaositself.IhadhopedPetethe
geysermisunderstoodwhathisbrothertoldhimabouttheimperatorintheants’nest.
NowthatIhadconfirmation,IwantedtostealRhea’ssafarivananddrivetosomecommunefar,
farupstate.
“TriumvirateHoldings,”Isaid.
“Yeah,”Rheaagreed.“That’stheirnewmilitary-industrialcomplex.It’sbummingmeoutinabig
way.”
Thelionstoppedlickingmyface,probablybecausemybloodhadturnedbitter.“Howisthis
possible?Howhavetheycomeback?”
“Theyneverwentaway,”Rheasaid.“Theydidittothemselves,youknow.Wantedtomake
themselvesgods.Thatneverworksoutwell.Eversincetheolddaysthey’vebeenhidingout,
influencinghistoryfrombehindthecurtains.They’restuckinakindoftwilightlife.Theycan’tdie;
theycan’treallylive.”
“Buthowcouldwenotknowaboutthis?”Idemanded.“Wearegods!”
Rhea’slaughremindedmeofapigletwithasthma.“Apollo,Grandson,beautifulchild…Has
beingagodeverstoppedsomeonefrombeingstupid?”
Shehadapoint.Notaboutmepersonally,ofcourse,butthestoriesIcouldtellyouabouttheother
Olympians…
“TheemperorsofRome.”Itriedtocometotermswiththeidea.“Theycan’tallbeimmortal.”
“No,”Rheasaid.“Justtheworstofthem,themostnotorious.Theyliveinhumanmemory,man.
That’swhatkeepsthemalive.Sameasus,really.They’retiedtothecourseofWesterncivilization,
eventhoughthatwholeconceptisimperialistEurocentricpropaganda,man.Likemyguruwouldtell
you—”
“Rhea”—Iputmyhandsagainstmythrobbingtemples—“canwesticktooneproblematatime?”
“Yeah,okay.Ididn’tmeantoblowyourmind.”
“Buthowcantheyaffectourlinesofcommunication?Howcantheybesopowerful?”
“They’vehadcenturies,Apollo.Centuries.Allthattime,plottingandmakingwar,buildingup
theircapitalistempire,waitingforthismomentwhenyouaremortal,whentheOraclesarevulnerable
forahostiletakeover.It’sjustevil.Theyhavenochillwhatsoever.”
“Ithoughtthatwasamoremodernterm.”
“Evil?”
“No.Chill.Nevermind.TheBeast…heistheleader?”
“Afraidso.He’sastwistedastheothers,buthe’sthesmartestandthemoststable—ina
sociopathichomicidalway.Youknowwhoheis—whohewas,right?”
Unfortunately,Idid.IrememberedwhereIhadseenhissmirkinguglyface.Icouldhearhisnasal
voiceechoingthroughthearena,orderingtheexecutionofhundredswhilethecrowdscheered.I
wantedtoaskRheawhohistwocompatriotswereintheTriumvirate,butIdecidedIcouldnotbear
theinformationatpresent.Noneoftheoptionsweregood,andknowingtheirnamesmightbringme
moredespairthanIcouldhandle.
“It’strue,then,”Isaid.“TheotherOraclesstillexist.Theemperorsholdthemall?”
“They’reworkingonit.PythonhasDelphi—that’sthebiggestproblem.Butyouwon’thavethe
strengthtotakehimhead-on.You’vegottoprytheirfingersofftheminorOraclesfirst,loosentheir
power.Todothat,youneedanewsourceofprophecyforthiscamp—anOraclethatisolderand
independent.”
“Dodona,”Isaid.“Yourwhisperinggrove.”
“Righton,”Rheasaid.“Ithoughtthegrovewasgoneforever.Butthen—Idon’tknowhow—the
oaktreesregrewthemselvesintheheartofthesewoods.Youhavetofindthegroveandprotectit.”
“I’mworkingonthat.”Itouchedthestickywoundonthesideofmyface.“ButmyfriendMeg—”
“Yeah.Youhadsomesetbacks.Buttherearealwayssetbacks,Apollo.WhenLizzyStantonandI
hostedthefirstwomen’srightsconventioninWoodstock—”
“IthinkyoumeanSenecaFalls?”
Rheafrowned.“Wasn’tthatinthe’60s?”
“The’40s,”Isaid.“The1840s,ifmemoryserves.”
“So…JimiHendrixwasn’tthere?”
“Doubtful.”
Rheafiddledwithherpeacesymbol.“Thenwhosetthatguitaronfire?Ah,nevermind.Thepoint
is,youhavetopersevere.Sometimeschangetakescenturies.”
“ExceptthatI’mmortalnow,”Isaid.“Idon’thavecenturies.”
“Butyouhavewillpower,”Rheasaid.“Youhavemortaldriveandurgency.Thosearethingsthe
godsoftenlack.”
Atherside,herlionroared.
“I’vegottasplit,”Rheasaid.“Iftheimperatorstrackmedown—badscene,man.I’vebeenoffthe
gridtoolong.I’mnotgoingtogetsuckedintothatpatriarchalinstitutionaloppressionagain.Justfind
Dodona.That’syourfirsttrial.”
“AndiftheBeastfindsthegrovefirst?”
“Oh,he’salreadyfoundthegates,buthe’llnevergetthroughthemwithoutyouandthegirl.”
“I—Idon’tunderstand.”
“That’scool.Justbreathe.Findyourcenter.Enlightenmenthastocomefromwithin.”
ItwasverymuchlikealineIwould’vegivenmyworshippers.IwastemptedtochokeRheawith
hermacramébelt,butIdoubtedIwouldhavethestrength.Also,shehadtwolions.“ButwhatdoIdo?
HowdoIsaveMeg?”
“First,gethealed.Restup.Then…well,howyousaveMegisuptoyou.Thejourneyisgreater
thanthedestination,youknow?”
Sheheldoutherhand.Drapedonherfingerswasasetofwindchimes—acollectionofhollow
brasstubesandmedallionsengravedwithancientGreekandCretansymbols.“Hangtheseinthe
largestancientoak.ThatwillhelpyoufocusthevoicesoftheOracle.Ifyougetaprophecy,groovy.
It’llonlybethebeginning,butwithoutDodona,nothingelsewillbepossible.Theemperorswill
suffocateourfutureanddivideuptheworld.OnlywhenyouhavedefeatedPythoncanyoureclaim
yourrightfulplaceonOlympus.Mykid,Zeus…he’sgotthiswhole‘toughlove’disciplinarianhangup,youdig?TakingbackDelphiistheonlywayyou’regoingtogetonhisgoodside.”
“I—Iwasafraidyouwouldsaythat.”
“There’soneotherthing,”shewarned.“TheBeastisplanningsomekindofattackonyourcamp.
Idon’tknowwhatitis,butit’sgoingtobebig.Like,evenworsethannapalm.Youhavetowarnyour
friends.”
Thenearestlionnudgedme.Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneckandallowedhimtopullmeto
myfeet.Imanagedtoremainstanding,butonlybecausemylegslockedupincompletefright.Forthe
firsttime,Iunderstoodthetrialsthatawaitedme.IknewtheenemiesImustface.Iwouldneedmore
thanwindchimesandenlightenment.I’dneedamiracle.Andasagod,Icantellyouthatthoseare
neverdistributedlightly.
“Goodluck,Apollo.”TheTitanqueenplacedthewindchimesinmyhands.“I’vegottocheckmy
kilnbeforemypotscrack.Keepontrucking,andsavethosetrees!”
Thewoodsdissolved.IfoundmyselfstandinginthecentralgreenatCampHalf-Blood,face-tofacewithChiaraBenvenuti,whojumpedbackinalarm.“Apollo?”
Ismiled.“Hey,girl.”Myeyesrolledupinmyheadand,forthesecondtimethatweek,I
charminglypassedoutinfrontofher.
Iapologize
Forprettymucheverything
Wow,I’magoodguy
“WAKE,”SAIDAVOICE.
Iopenedmyeyesandsawaghost—hisfacejustasprecioustomeasDaphne’s.Iknewhiscopper
skin,hiskindsmile,thedarkcurlsofhishair,andthoseeyesaspurpleassenatorialrobes.
“Hyacinthus,”Isobbed.“I’msosorry…”
Heturnedhisfacetowardthesunlight,revealingtheuglydentabovehisleftearwherethediscus
hadstruckhim.Myownwoundedfacethrobbedinsympathy.
“Seekthecaverns,”hesaid.“Nearthespringsofblue.Oh,Apollo…yoursanitywillbetaken
away,butdonot…”
Hisimagefadedandbegantoretreat.Irosefrommysickbed.Irushedafterhimandgrabbedhis
shoulders.“Donotwhat?Pleasedon’tleavemeagain!”
Myvisioncleared.IfoundmyselfbythewindowinCabinSeven,holdingaceramicpotofpurple
andredhyacinths.Nearby,lookingveryconcerned,WillandNicostoodasifreadytocatchme.
“He’stalkingtotheflowers,”Niconoted.“Isthatnormal?”
“Apollo,”Willsaid,“youhadaconcussion.Ihealedyou,but—”
“Thesehyacinths,”Idemanded.“Havetheyalwaysbeenhere?”
Willfrowned.“Honestly,Idon’tknowwheretheycamefrom,but…”Hetooktheflowerpotfrom
myhandsandsetitbackonthewindowsill.“Let’sworryaboutyou,okay?”
Usuallythatwould’vebeenexcellentadvice,butnowIcouldonlystareatthehyacinthsand
wonderiftheyweresomesortofmessage.Howcrueltoseethem—theflowersthatIhadcreatedto
honormyfallenlove,withtheirplumesstainedredlikehisbloodorhuedvioletlikehiseyes.They
bloomedsocheerfullyinthewindow,remindingmeofthejoyIhadlost.
NicorestedhishandonWill’sshoulder.“Apollo,wewereworried.Willwasespecially.”
Seeingthemtogether,supportingeachother,mademyheartfeelevenheavier.Duringmy
delirium,bothofmygreatloveshadvisitedme.Now,onceagain,Iwasdevastatinglyalone.
Still,Ihadatasktocomplete.Afriendneededmyhelp.
“Megisintrouble,”Isaid.“HowlongwasIunconscious?”
WillandNicoglancedateachother.
“It’saboutnoonnow,”Willsaid.“Youshoweduponthegreenaroundsixthismorning.When
Megdidn’treturnwithyou,wewantedtosearchthewoodsforher,butChironwouldn’tletus.”
“Chironwasabsolutelycorrect,”Isaid.“Iwon’tallowanyotherstoputthemselvesatrisk.ButI
musthurry.Meghasuntiltonightatthelatest.”
“Thenwhathappens?”Nicoasked.
Icouldn’tsayit.Icouldn’teventhinkaboutitwithoutlosingmynerve.Ilookeddown.Asidefrom
Paolo’sBrazilian-flagbandanaandmyukulele-stringnecklace,Iwaswearingonlymyboxershorts.
Myoffensiveflabbinesswasondisplayforeveryonetosee,butInolongercaredaboutthat.(Well,
notmuch,anyway.)“Ihavetogetdressed.”
Istaggeredbacktomycot.IfumbledthroughmymeagersuppliesandfoundPercyJackson’sLed
ZeppelinT-shirt.Ituggediton.Itseemedmoreappropriatethanever.
Willhoverednearby.“Look,Apollo,Idon’tthinkyou’rebacktoahundredpercent.”
“I’llbefine.”Ipulledonmyjeans.“IhavetosaveMeg.”
“Letushelpyou,”Nicosaid.“TelluswheresheisandIcanshadow-travel—”
“No!”Isnapped.“No,youhavetostayhereandprotectthecamp.”
Will’sexpressionremindedmeverymuchofhismother,Naomi—thatlookoftrepidationshegot
justbeforeshewentonstage.“Protectthecampfromwhat?”
“I—I’mnotsure.YoumusttellChirontheemperorshavereturned.Orrather,theyneverwent
away.They’vebeenplotting,buildingtheirresourcesforcenturies.”
Nico’seyesglintedwarily.“Whenyousayemperors—”
“ImeantheRomanones.”
Willsteppedback.“You’resayingtheemperorsofancientRomearealive?How?TheDoorsof
Death?”
“No.”Icouldbarelyspeakthroughthetasteofbile.“Theemperorsmadethemselvesgods.They
hadtheirowntemplesandaltars.Theyencouragedthepeopletoworshipthem.”
“Butthatwasjustpropaganda,”Nicosaid.“Theyweren’treallydivine.”
Ilaughedmirthlessly.“Godsaresustainedbyworship,sonofHades.Theycontinuetoexist
becauseofthecollectivememoriesofaculture.It’struefortheOlympians;it’salsotrueforthe
emperors.Somehow,themostpowerfulofthemhavesurvived.Allthesecenturies,theyhaveclungto
half-life,hiding,waitingtoreclaimtheirpower.”
Willshookhishead.“That’simpossible.How—?”
“Idon’tknow!”Itriedtosteadymybreathing.“TellRachelthemenbehindTriumvirateHoldings
areformeremperorsofRome.They’vebeenplottingagainstusallthistime,andwegodshavebeen
blind.Blind.”
Ipulledonmycoat.TheambrosiaNicohadgivenmeyesterdaywasstillintheleftpocket.Inthe
rightpocket,Rhea’swindchimesclanked,thoughIhadnoideahowthey’dgottenthere.
“TheBeastisplanningsomesortofattackonthecamp,”Isaid.“Idon’tknowwhat,andIdon’t
knowwhen,buttellChironyoumustbeprepared.Ihavetogo.”
“Wait!”WillsaidasIreachedthedoor.“WhoistheBeast?Whichemperorarewedealingwith?”
“Theworstofmydescendants.”Myfingersdugintothedoorframe.“TheChristianscalledhim
theBeastbecauseheburnedthemalive.OurenemyisEmperorNero.”
Theymusthavebeentoostunnedtofollowme.
Irantowardthearmory.Severalcampersgavemestrangelooks.Somecalledafterme,offering
help,butIignoredthem.IcouldonlythinkaboutMegaloneinthemyrmekes’lair,andthevisionsI’d
hadofDaphne,Rhea,andHyacinthus—allofthemurgingmeonward,tellingmetodotheimpossible
inthisinadequatemortalform.
WhenIreachedthearmory,Iscannedtherackofbows.Myhandtrembling,Ipickedoutthe
weaponMeghadtriedtogivemethedaybefore.Itwascarvedfrommountainlaurelwood.Thebitter
ironyappealedtome.
IhadswornnottouseabowuntilIwasagodagain.ButIhadalsoswornnottoplaymusic,andI
hadalreadybrokenthatpartoftheoathinthemostegregious,Neil-Diamondywaypossible.
ThecurseoftheRiverStyxcouldkillmeinitsslowcancerousway,orZeuscouldstrikeme
down.ButmyoathtosaveMegMcCaffreyhadtocomefirst.
Iturnedmyfacetothesky.“Ifyouwanttopunishme,Father,bemyguest,buthavethecourageto
hurtmedirectly,notmymortalcompanion.BEAMAN!”
Tomysurprise,theskiesremainedsilent.Lightningdidnotvaporizeme.PerhapsZeuswastoo
takenabacktoreact,butIknewhewouldneveroverlooksuchaninsult.
ToTartaruswithhim.Ihadworktodo.
IgrabbedaquiverandstuffeditwithalltheextraarrowsIcouldfind.ThenIranforthewoods,
Meg’stworingsjanglingonmymakeshiftnecklace.Toolate,IrealizedIhadforgottenmycombat
ukulele,butIhadnotimetoturnback.Mysingingvoicewouldhavetobeenough.
I’mnotsurehowIfoundthenest.
Perhapstheforestsimplyallowedmetoreachit,knowingthatIwasmarchingtomydeath.I’ve
foundthatwhenoneissearchingfordanger,it’sneverhardtofind.
SoonIwascrouchedbehindafallentree,studyingthemyrmekes’lairintheclearingahead.To
calltheplaceananthillwouldbelikecallingVersaillesPalaceasingle-familyhome.Earthen
rampartsrosealmosttothetopsofthesurroundingtrees—ahundredfeetatleast.Thecircumference
couldhaveaccommodatedaRomanhippodrome.Asteadystreamofsoldiersanddronesswarmedin
andoutofthemound.Somecarriedfallentrees.One,inexplicably,wasdragginga1967Chevy
Impala.
HowmanyantswouldIbefacing?Ihadnoidea.Afteryoureachthenumberimpossible,there’s
nopointincounting.
Inockedanarrowandsteppedintotheclearing.
Whenthenearestmyrmekespottedme,hedroppedhisChevy.Hewatchedmeapproach,his
antennaebobbing.Iignoredhimandstrolledpast,headingforthenearesttunnelentrance.That
confusedhimevenmore.
Severalotherantsgatheredtowatch.
I’velearnedthatifyouactlikeyouaresupposedtobesomewhere,mostpeople(orants)willnot
confrontyou.Normally,actingconfidentisn’taproblemforme.Godsareallowedtobeanywhere.It
wasabittougherforLesterPapadopoulos,dorkteenextraordinaire,butImadeitallthewaytothe
nestwithoutbeingchallenged.
Iplungedinsideandbegantosing.
ThistimeIneedednoukulele.Ineedednomuseformyinspiration.IrememberedDaphne’sface
inthetrees.IrememberedHyacinthusturningaway,hisdeathwoundglisteningonhisscalp.My
voicefilledwithanguish.Isangofheartbreak.Ratherthancollapsingundermyowndespair,I
projecteditoutward.
Thetunnelsamplifiedmyvoice,carryingitthroughthenest,makingtheentirehillmymusical
instrument.
EachtimeIpassedanant,itcurleditslegsandtoucheditsforeheadtothefloor,itsantennae
quiveringfromthevibrationsofmyvoice.
HadIbeenagod,thesongwouldhavebeenstronger,butthiswasenough.Iwasimpressedby
howmuchsorrowahumanvoicecouldconvey.
Iwandereddeeperintothehill.IhadnoideawhereIwasgoinguntilIspottedageranium
bloomingfromthetunnelfloor.
Mysongfaltered.
Meg.Shemusthaveregainedconsciousness.Shehaddroppedoneofheremergencyseedsto
leavemeatrail.Thegeranium’spurpleflowersallfacedasmallertunnelleadingofftotheleft.
“Clevergirl,”Isaid,choosingthattunnel.
Aclatteringsoundalertedmetotheapproachingmyrmeke.
Iturnedandraisedmybow.Freedfromtheenchantmentofmyvoice,theinsectcharged,its
mouthfoamingwithacid.Idrewandfired.Thearrowembeddeditselfuptothefletchingintheant’s
forehead.
Thecreaturedropped,itsbacklegstwitchingindeaththroes.Itriedtoretrievemyarrow,butthe
shaftsnappedinmyhand,thebrokenendcoveredinsteamingcorrosivegoo.Somuchforreusing
ammunition.
Icalled,“MEG!”
Theonlyanswerwastheclatteringofmoregiantantsmovinginmydirection.Ibegantosing
again.Now,though,IhadhigherhopesoffindingMeg,whichmadeitdifficulttosummontheproper
amountofmelancholy.TheantsIencounteredwerenolongercatatonic.Theymovedslowlyand
unsteadily,buttheystillattacked.Iwasforcedtoshootoneafteranother.
Ipassedacavefilledwithglitteringtreasure,butIwasnotinterestedinshinythingsatthe
moment.Ikeptmoving.
Atthenextintersection,anothergeraniumsproutedfromthefloor,allitsflowersfacingright.I
turnedthatdirection,callingMeg’snameagain,thenreturningtomysong.
Asmyspiritslifted,mysongbecamelesseffectiveandtheantsmoreaggressive.Afteradozen
kills,myquiverwasgrowingdangerouslylight.
Ihadtoreachdeeperintomyfeelingsofdespair.Ihadtogettheblues,goodandproper.
Forthefirsttimeinfourthousandyears,Isangofmyownfaults.
IpouredoutmyguiltaboutDaphne’sdeath.Myboastfulness,envy,anddesirehadcausedher
destruction.Whensheranfromme,Ishouldhavelethergo.Instead,Ichasedherrelentlessly.I
wantedher,andIintendedtohaveher.Becauseofthat,IhadleftDaphnenochoice.Toescapeme,she
sacrificedherlifeandturnedintoatree,leavingmyheartscarredforever….Butitwasmyfault.I
apologizedinsong.IbeggedDaphne’sforgiveness.
IsangofHyacinthus,themosthandsomeofmen.TheWestWindZephyroshadalsolovedhim,
butIrefusedtoshareevenamomentofHyacinthus’stime.Inmyjealousy,IthreatenedZephyros.I
daredhim,daredhimtointerfere.
IsangofthedayHyacinthusandIplayeddiscusinthefields,andhowtheWestWindblewmydisc
offcourse—rightintothesideofHyacinthus’shead.
TokeepHyacinthusinthesunlightwherehebelonged,Icreatedhyacinthflowersfromhisblood.
IheldZephyrosaccountable,butmyownpettygreedhadcausedHyacinthus’sdeath.Ipouredoutmy
sorrow.Itookalltheblame.
Isangofmyfailures,myeternalheartbreakandloneliness.Iwastheworstofthegods,themost
guilt-riddenandunfocused.Icouldn’tcommitmyselftoonelover.Icouldn’tevenchoosewhattobe
thegodof.Ikeptshiftingfromoneskilltoanother—distractedanddissatisfied.
Mygoldenlifewasasham.Mycoolnesswaspretense.Myheartwasalumpofpetrifiedwood.
Allaroundme,myrmekescollapsed.Thenestitselftrembledwithgrief.
Ifoundathirdgeranium,thenafourth.
Finally,pausingbetweenverses,Iheardasmallvoiceupahead:thesoundofagirlcrying.
“Meg!”Igaveuponmysongandran.
Shelayinthemiddleofacavernousfoodlarder,justasIhadimagined.Aroundherwerestacked
thecarcassesofanimals—cows,deer,horses—allsheathedinhardenedgoopandslowlydecaying.
Thesmellhitmynasalpassageslikeanavalanche.
Megwasalsoenveloped,butshewasfightingbackwiththepowerofgeraniums.Patchesof
leavessproutedfromthethinnestpartsofhercocoon.Afrillycollarofflowerskeptthegooaway
fromherface.Shehadevenmanagedtofreeoneofherarms,thankstoanexplosionofpink
geraniumsatherleftarmpit.
Hereyeswerepuffyfromcrying.Iassumedshewasfrightened,possiblyinpain,butwhenIknelt
nexttoher,herfirstwordswere,“I’msosorry.”
Ibrushedatearfromthetipofhernose.“Why,dearMeg?Youdidnothingwrong.Ifailedyou.”
Asobcaughtinherthroat.“Youdon’tunderstand.Thatsongyouweresinging.Oh,gods…
Apollo,ifI’dknown—”
“Hush,now.”MythroatwassorawIcouldbarelytalk.Thesonghadalmostdestroyedmyvoice.
“You’rejustreactingtothegriefinthemusic.Let’sgetyoufree.”
IwasconsideringhowtodothatwhenMeg’seyeswidened.Shemadeawhimperingsound.
Thehairsonthenapeofmyneckcametoattention.“Thereareantsbehindme,aren’tthere?”I
asked.
Megnodded.
Iturnedasfourofthementeredthecavern.Ireachedformyquiver.Ihadonearrowleft.
Parentingadvice:
Mamas,don’tletyourlarvae
Growuptobeants
MEGTHRASHEDINHERGOOCASE.“Getmeoutofhere!”
“Idon’thaveablade!”Myfingerscrepttotheukulelestringaroundmyneck.“ActuallyIhave
yourblades,Imeanyourrings—”
“Youdon’tneedtocutmeout.Whentheantdumpedmehere,Idroppedthepacketofseeds.It
shouldbeclose.”
Shewasright.Ispottedthecrumpledpouchnearherfeet.
Iinchedtowardit,keepingoneeyeontheants.Theystoodtogetherattheentranceasifhesitantto
comecloser.Perhapsthetrailofdeadantsleadingtothisroomhadgiventhempause.
“Niceants,”Isaid.“Excellentcalmants.”
Icrouchedandscoopedupthepacket.Aquickglanceinsidetoldmehalfadozenseedsremained.
“Nowwhat,Meg?”
“Throwthemonthegoo,”Megsaid.
Igesturedtothegeraniumsburstingfromherneckandarmpit.“Howmanyseedsdidthat?”
“One.”
“Thenthismanywillchokeyoutodeath.I’veturnedtoomanypeopleIcaredaboutintoflowers,
Meg.Iwon’t—”
“JUSTDOIT!”
Theantsdidnotlikehertone.Theyadvanced,snappingtheirmandibles.Ishookthegeranium
seedsoverMeg’scocoon,thennockedmyarrow.Killingoneantwoulddonogoodiftheotherthree
toreusapart,soIchoseadifferenttarget.Ishottheroofofthecavern,justabovetheants’heads.
Itwasadesperateidea,butI’dhadsuccessbringingdownbuildingswitharrowsbefore.In464
BCE,IcausedanearthquakethatwipedoutmostofSpartabyhittingafaultlineattherightangle.(I
neverlikedtheSpartansmuch.)
Thistime,Ihadlessluck.Thearrowembeddeditselfinthepackedearthwithadullthunk.The
antstookanotherstepforward,aciddrippingfromtheirmouths.Behindme,Megstruggledtofree
herselffromhercocoon,whichwasnowcoveredinashagcarpetofpurpleflowers.
Sheneededmoretime.
Outofideas,ItuggedmyBrazilian-flaghandkerchieffrommyneckandwaveditlikeamaniac,
tryingtochannelmyinnerPaolo.
“BACK,FOULANTS!”Iyelled.“BRASIL!”
Theantswavered—perhapsbecauseofthebrightcolors,ormyvoice,ormysuddeninsane
confidence.Whiletheyhesitated,cracksspreadacrosstherooffrommyarrow’simpactsite,andthen
thousandsoftonsofearthcollapsedontopofthemyrmekes.
Whenthedustcleared,halftheroomwasgone,alongwiththeants.
Ilookedatmyhandkerchief.“I’llbeStyxed.Itdoeshavemagicpower.IcannevertellPaolo
aboutthisorhe’llbeinsufferable.”
“Overhere!”Megyelled.
Iturned.Anothermyrmekewascrawlingoverapileofcarcasses—apparentlyfromasecondexit
Ihadfailedtonoticebehindthedisgustingfoodstores.
BeforeIcouldthinkwhattodo,Megroaredandburstfromhercage,sprayinggeraniumsin
everydirection.Sheshouted,“Myrings!”
Iyankedthemfrommyneckandtossedthemthroughtheair.AssoonasMegcaughtthem,two
goldenscimitarsflashedintoherhands.
ThemyrmekebarelyhadtimetothinkUh-ohbeforeMegcharged.Sheslicedoffhisarmored
head.Hisbodycollapsedinasteamingheap.
Megturnedtome.Herfacewasatempestofguilt,misery,andbitterness.Iwasafraidshemight
useherswordsonme.
“Apollo,I…”Hervoicebroke.
Isupposedshewasstillsufferingfromtheeffectsofmysong.Shewasshakentohercore.Imade
amentalnoteneveragaintosingsohonestlywhenamortalmightbelistening.
“It’sallright,Meg,”Isaid.“Ishouldbeapologizingtoyou.Igotyouintothismess.”
Megshookherhead.“Youdon’tunderstand.I—”
Anenragedshriekechoedthroughthechamber,shakingthecompromisedceilingandraining
clodsofdirtonourheads.ThetoneofthescreamremindedmeofHerawhenevershestormed
throughthehallwaysofOlympus,yellingatmeforleavingthegodlytoiletseatup.
“That’sthequeenant,”Iguessed.“Weneedtoleave.”
Megpointedherswordtowardtheroom’sonlyremainingexit.“Butthesoundcamefromthere.
We’llbewalkinginherdirection.”
“Exactly.Soperhapsweshouldholdoffonmakingamendswitheachother,eh?Wemightstillget
eachotherkilled.”
Wefoundthequeenant.
Hooray.
Allcorridorsmusthaveledtothequeen.Theyradiatedfromherchamberlikespikesona
morningstar.HerMajestywasthreetimesthesizeofherlargestsoldiers—atoweringmassofblack
chitinandbarbedappendages,withdiaphanousovalwingsfoldedagainstherback.Hereyeswere
glassyswimmingpoolsofonyx.Herabdomenwasapulsingtranslucentsacfilledwithglowingeggs.
Thesightofitmademeregreteverinventinggelcapsulemedications.
Herswollenabdomenmightslowherdowninafight,butshewassolarge,shecouldinterceptus
beforewereachedthenearestexit.Thosemandibleswouldsnapusinhalflikedriedtwigs.
“Meg,”Isaid,“howdoyoufeelaboutdual-wieldingscimitarsagainstthislady?”
Meglookedappalled.“She’samothergivingbirth.”
“Yes…andshe’saninsect,whichyouhate.Andherchildrenwereripeningyouupfordinner.”
Megfrowned.“Still…Idon’tfeelrightaboutit.”
Thequeenhissed—adrysprayingnoise.Iimaginedshewouldhavealreadyhosedusdownwith
acidifsheweren’tworriedaboutthelong-termeffectsofcorrosivesonherlarvae.Queenantscan’t
betoocarefulthesedays.
“Youhaveanotheridea?”IaskedMeg.“Preferablyonethatdoesnotinvolvedying?”
Shepointedtoatunneldirectlybehindthequeen’sclutchofeggs.“Weneedtogothatway.Itleads
tothegrove.”
“Howcanyoubesure?”
Megtiltedherhead.“Trees.It’slike…Icanhearthemgrowing.”
ThatremindedmeofsomethingtheMusesoncetoldme—howtheycouldactuallyheartheink
dryingonnewpagesofpoetry.IsupposeitmadesensethatadaughterofDemetercouldhearthe
growthofplants.Also,itdidn’tsurprisemethatthetunnelweneededwasthemostdangerousoneto
reach.
“Sing,”Megtoldme.“Singlikeyoudidbefore.”
“I—Ican’t.Myvoiceisalmostgone.”
Besides,Ithought,Idon’twanttorisklosingyouagain.
IhadfreedMeg,soperhapsI’dfulfilledmyoathtoPetethegeysergod.Still,bysingingand
practicingarchery,IhadbrokenmyoathupontheRiverStyxnotoncebuttwice.Moresingingwould
onlymakememoreofascofflaw.Whatevercosmicpunishmentsawaitedme,Ididnotwantthemto
fallonMeg.
HerMajestysnappedatus—awarningshot,tellingustobackoff.Afewfeetcloserandmyhead
wouldhaverolledinthedirt.
Iburstintosong—orrather,IdidthebestIcouldwiththeraspyvoicethatremained.Ibeganto
rap.Istartedwiththerhythmboomchickachicka.IbustedoutsomefootworktheNineMusesandI
hadbeenworkingonjustbeforethewarwithGaea.
Thequeenarchedherback.Idon’tthinkshehadexpectedtoberappedtotoday.
IgaveMegalookthatclearlymeantHelpmeout!
Sheshookherhead.Givethegirltwoswordsandshewasamaniac.Askhertolaydownasimple
beatandshesuddenlygotstagefright.
Fine,Ithought.I’lldoitbymyself.
Ilaunchedinto“Dance”byNas,whichIhavetosaywasoneofthemostmovingodestomothers
thatIeverinspiredanartisttowrite.(You’rewelcome,Nas.)Itooksomelibertieswiththelyrics.I
mayhavechangedangeltobroodmotherandwomantoinsect.Butthesentimentremained.I
serenadedthepregnantqueen,channelingmyloveformyowndearmother,Leto.WhenIsangthatI
couldonlywishtomarryawoman(orinsect)sofinesomeday,myheartbreakwasreal.Iwould
neverhavesuchapartner.Itwasnotinmydestiny.
Thequeen’santennaequivered.Herheadseesawedbackandforth.Eggskeptextrudingfromher
abdomen,whichmadeitdifficultformetoconcentrate,butIpersevered.
WhenIwasdone,Idroppedtoonekneeandheldupmyarmsintribute,waitingforthequeen’s
verdict.Eithershewouldkillmeorshewouldnot.Iwasspent.Ihadpouredeverythingintothatsong
andcouldnotrapanotherline.
Nexttome,Megstoodverystill,grippingherswords.
HerMajestyshuddered.Shethrewbackherheadandwailed—asoundmorebrokenheartedthan
angry.
Sheleaneddownandgentlynudgedmychest,pushingmeinthedirectionofthetunnelweneeded.
“Thankyou,”Icroaked.“I—I’msorryabouttheantsIkilled.”
Thequeenpurredandclicked,extrudingafewmoreeggsasiftosay,Don’tworry;Icanalways
makemore.
Istrokedthequeenant’sforehead.“MayIcallyouMama?”
Hermouthfrothedinapleasedsortofway.
“Apollo,”Megurged,“let’sgobeforeshechangeshermind.”
IwasnotsureMamawouldchangehermind.Igotthefeelingshehadacceptedmyfealtyand
adoptedusintoherbrood.ButMegwasright;weneededtohurry.Mamawatchedasweedgedaround
herclutchofeggs.
Weplungedintothetunnelandsawtheglowofdaylightaboveus.
Nightmaresoftorches
Andamaninpurpleclothes
Butthat’snottheworst
IHADNEVERBEENSOHAPPYtoseeakillingfield.
Weemergedintoagladelitteredwithbones.Mostwerefromforestanimals.Afewappeared
human.Iguessedwehadfoundthemyrmekes’dumpingsite,andtheyapparentlydidn’tgetregular
garbagepickup.
Theclearingwashemmedwithtreessothickandtangledthattravelingthroughthemwould’ve
beenimpossible.Overourheads,thebrancheswovetogetherinaleafydomethatletinsunlightbut
notmuchelse.Anyoneflyingabovetheforestwouldneverhaverealizedthisopenspaceexisted
underthecanopy.
Atthefarendofthegladestoodarowofobjectslikefootballtackledummies—sixwhite
cocoonsstakedontallwoodenpoles,flankingapairofenormousoaks.Eachtreewasatleasteighty
feettall.Theyhadgrownsoclosetogetherthattheirmassivetrunksappearedtohavefused.Ihadthe
distinctimpressionIwaslookingatasetoflivingdoors.
“It’sagateway,”Isaid.“TotheGroveofDodona.”
Meg’sbladesretracted,onceagainbecominggoldringsonhermiddlefingers.“Aren’tweinthe
grove?”
“No…”IstaredacrosstheclearingatthewhitecocoonPopsicles.Theyweretoofarawayto
makeoutclearly,butsomethingaboutthemseemedfamiliarinanevil,unwelcomesortofway.I
wantedtogetcloser.Ialsowantedtokeepmydistance.
“Ithinkthisismoreofanantechamber,”Isaid.“Thegroveitselfisbehindthosetrees.”
Meggazedwarilyacrossthefield.“Idon’thearanyvoices.”
Itwastrue.Theforestwasabsolutelyquiet.Thetreesseemedtobeholdingtheirbreath.
“Thegroveknowswearehere,”Iguessed.“It’swaitingtoseewhatwe’lldo.”
“We’dbetterdosomething,then.”Megdidn’tsoundanymoreexcitedthanIwas,butshemarched
forward,bonescrunchingunderherfeet.
IwishedIhadmorethanabow,anemptyquiver,andahoarsevoicetodefendmyselfwith,butI
followed,tryingnottotripoverribcagesanddeerantlers.Abouthalfwayacrosstheglade,Meglet
outasharpexhale.
Shewasstaringatthepostsoneithersideofthetreegates.
AtfirstIcouldn’tprocesswhatIwasseeing.Eachstakewasabouttheheightofacrucifix—the
kindRomansusedtosetupalongtheroadsidetoadvertisethefatesofcriminals.(Personally,Ifind
modernbillboardsmuchmoretasteful.)Theupperhalfofeachpostwaswrappedinthicklumpy
wadsofwhitecloth,andstickingfromthetopofeachcocoonwassomethingthatlookedlikea
humanhead.
Mystomachsomersaulted.Theywerehumanheads.Arrayedinfrontofuswerethemissing
demigods,alltightlybound.Iwatched,petrified,untilIdiscernedtheslightestexpansionsand
contractionsinthewrappingsaroundtheirchests.Theywerestillbreathing.Unconscious,notdead.
Thankthegods.
OntheleftwerethreeteenagersIdidn’tknow,thoughIassumedtheymustbeCecil,Ellis,and
Miranda.Ontherightsidewasanemaciatedmanwithgrayskinandwhitehair—nodoubtthegeyser
godPaulie.Nexttohimhungmychildren…AustinandKayla.
Ishooksoviolently,thebonesaroundmyfeetclattered.Irecognizedthesmellcomingfromthe
prisoners’wrappings—sulfur,oil,powderedlime,andliquidGreekfire,themostdangerous
substanceevercreated.Rageanddisgustfoughtinmythroat,vyingfortherighttomakemethrow
up.
“Oh,monstrous,”Isaid.“Weneedtofreethemimmediately.”
“Wh-what’swrongwiththem?”Megstammered.
Idarednotputitintowords.Ihadseenthisformofexecutiononcebefore,atthehandsofthe
Beast,andIneverwishedtoseeitagain.
IrantoAustin’sstake.WithallmystrengthItriedtopushitover,butitwouldn’tbudge.Thebase
wassunktoodeepintheearth.Itoreattheclothbindingsbutonlymanagedtocoatmyhandsin
sulfurousresin.Thewaddingwasstickierandharderthanmyrmekes’goo.
“Meg,yourswords!”Iwasn’tsuretheywoulddoanygoodeither,butIcouldthinkofnothing
elsetotry.
Thenfromaboveuscameafamiliarsnarl.
Thebranchesrustled.Peachesthekarposdroppedfromthecanopy,landingwithasomersaultat
Meg’sfeet.Helookedlikehe’dbeenthroughquiteanordealtogethere.Hisarmswereslicedupand
drippingpeachnectar.Hislegsweredottedwithbruises.Hisdiapersaggeddangerously.
“Thankthegods!”Isaid.ThatwasnotmyusualreactionwhenIsawthegrainspirit,buthisteeth
andclawsmightbejustthethingstofreethedemigods.“Meg,hurry!Orderyourfriendto—”
“Apollo.”Hervoicewasheavy.Shepointedtothetunnelfromwhichwe’dcome.
Emergingfromtheants’nestweretwoofthelargesthumansIhadeverseen.Eachwassevenfeet
tallandperhapsthreehundredpoundsofpuremusclestuffedintohorsehidearmor.Theirblondhair
glintedlikesilverfloss.Jeweledringsglitteredintheirbeards.Eachmancarriedanovalshieldanda
spear,thoughIdoubtedtheyneededweaponstokill.Theylookedliketheycouldcrackopen
cannonballswiththeirbarehands.
Irecognizedthemfromtheirtattoosandthecirculardesignsontheirshields.Suchwarriors
weren’teasytoforget.
“Germani.”Instinctively,ImovedinfrontofMeg.TheeliteimperialbodyguardshadbeencoldbloodeddeathreapersinancientRome.Idoubtedthey’dgottenanysweeteroverthecenturies.
Thetwomenglaredatme.Theyhadserpenttattooscurlingaroundtheirnecks,justlikethe
ruffianswhohadjumpedmeinNewYork.TheGermaniparted,andtheirmasterclimbedfromthe
tunnel.
Nerohadn’tchangedmuchinonethousandninehundredandsome-oddyears.Heappearedtobe
nomorethanthirty,butitwasahardthirty,hisfacehaggardandhisbellydistendedfromtoomuch
partying.Hismouthwasfixedinapermanentsneer.Hiscurlyhairextendedintoawraparoundneck
beard.Hischinwassoweak,IwastemptedtocreateaGoFundMecampaigntobuyhimabetterjaw.
HetriedtocompensateforhisuglinesswithanexpensiveItaliansuitofpurplewool,hisgray
shirtopentodisplaygoldchains.Hisshoeswerehand-tooledleather,notthesortofthingtowear
whilestompingaroundinanantpile.Thenagain,Nerohadalwayshadexpensive,impracticaltastes.
ThatwasperhapstheonlythingIadmiredabouthim.
“EmperorNero,”Isaid.“TheBeast.”
Hecurledhislip.“Nerowilldo.It’sgoodtoseeyou,myhonoredancestor.I’msorryI’vebeenso
laxaboutmyofferingsduringthepastfewmillennia,but”—heshrugged—“Ihaven’tneededyou.I’ve
doneratherwellonmyown.”
Myfistsclenched.Iwantedtostrikedownthispot-belliedemperorwithaboltofwhite-hotpower,
exceptthatIhadnoboltsofwhite-hotpower.Ihadnoarrows.Ihadnosingingvoiceleft.Against
Neroandhisseven-foot-tallbodyguards,IhadaBrazilianhandkerchief,apacketofambrosia,and
somebrasswindchimes.
“It’smeyouwant,”Isaid.“Cutthesedemigodsdownfromtheirstakes.LetthemleavewithMeg.
They’vedonenothingtoyou.”
Nerochuckled.“I’llbehappytoletthemgooncewe’vecometoanagreement.AsforMeg…”He
smiledather.“Howareyou,mydear?”
Megsaidnothing.Herfacewasashardandgrayasageysergod’s.Atherfeet,Peachessnarled
andrustledhisleafywings.
OneofNero’sguardssaidsomethinginhisear.
TheEmperornodded.“Soon.”
Heturnedhisattentionbacktome.“Butwherearemymanners?Allowmetointroducemyright
hand,Vincius,andmylefthand,Garius.”
Thebodyguardspointedacrosstoeachother.
“Ah,sorry,”Nerocorrected.“Myrighthand,Garius,andmylefthand,Vincius.Thosearethe
RomanizedversionsoftheirBatavinames,whichIcan’tpronounce.UsuallyIjustcallthemVince
andGary.Sayhello,boys.”
VinceandGarygloweredatme.
“Theyhaveserpenttattoos,”Inoted,“likethosestreetthugsyousenttoattackme.”
Neroshrugged.“Ihavemanyservants.CadeandMikeyarequitelowonthepayscale.Theironly
jobwastorattleyouabit,welcomeyoutomycity.”
“Yourcity.”IfounditjustlikeNerotogoclaimingmajormetropolitanareasthatclearly
belongedtome.“Andthesetwogentlemen…theyareactuallyGermanifromtheancienttimes?
How?”
Neromadeasnidelittlebarkingsoundinthebackofhisnose.I’dforgottenhowmuchIhatedhis
laugh.
“LordApollo,please,”hesaid.“EvenbeforeGaeacommandeeredtheDoorsofDeath,souls
escapedfromErebosallthetime.Itwasquiteeasyforagod-emperorsuchasmyselftocallbackmy
followers.”
“Agod-emperor?”Igrowled.“Youmeanadelusionalex-emperor.”
Neroarchedhiseyebrows.“Whatmadeyouagod,Apollo…backwhenyouwereone?Wasn’tit
thepowerofyourname,yourswayoverthosewhobelievedinyou?Iamnodifferent.”Heglanced
tohisleft.“Vince,fallonyourspear,please.”
Withouthesitation,Vinceplantedthebuttofhisspearagainsttheground.Hebracedthepoint
underhisribcage.
“Stop,”Nerosaid.“Ichangedmymind.”
Vincebetrayednorelief.Infact,hiseyestightenedwithfaintdisappointment.Hebroughthisspear
backtohisside.
Nerogrinnedatme.“Yousee?Iholdthepoweroflifeanddeathovermyworshippers,likeany
propergodshould.”
IfeltlikeI’dswallowedsomegelcapsulelarvae.“TheGermaniwerealwayscrazy,muchlike
you.”
Neroputhishandtohischest.“I’mhurt!MybarbarianfriendsareloyalsubjectsoftheJulian
dynasty!And,ofcourse,wearealldescendedfromyou,LordApollo.”
Ididn’tneedthereminder.I’dbeensoproudofmyson,theoriginalOctavian,laterCaesar
Augustus.Afterhisdeath,hisdescendantsbecameincreasinglyarrogantandunstable(whichIblamed
ontheirmortalDNA;theycertainlydidn’tgetthosequalitiesfromme).Nerohadbeenthelastofthe
Julianline.Ihadnotweptwhenhedied.Nowherehewas,asgrotesqueandchinlessasever.
Megstoodatmyshoulder.“Wh-whatdoyouwant,Nero?”
Consideringshewasfacingthemanwhokilledherfather,shesoundedremarkablycalm.Iwas
gratefulforherstrength.Itgavemehopetohaveaskilleddimachaerusandaravenouspeachbabyat
myside.Still,IdidnotlikeouroddsagainsttwoGermani.
Nero’seyesgleamed.“Straighttothepoint.I’vealwaysadmiredthataboutyou,Meg.Really,it’s
simple.YouandApollowillopenthegatesofDodonaforme.Thenthesesix”—hegesturedtothe
stakedprisoners—“willbereleased.”
Ishookmyhead.“You’lldestroythegrove.Thenyou’llkillus.”
Theemperormadethathorriblebarkagain.“Notunlessyouforcemeto.I’mareasonablegodemperor,Apollo!I’dmuchratherhavetheGroveofDodonaundermycontrolifitcanbemanaged,
butIcertainlycan’tallowyoutouseit.YouhadyourchanceatbeingtheguardianoftheOracles.You
failedmiserably.Nowit’smyresponsibility.Mine…andmypartners’.”
“Thetwootheremperors,”Isaid.“Whoarethey?”
Neroshrugged.“GoodRomans—menwho,likeme,havethewillpowertodowhatisneeded.”
“Triumvirateshaveneverworked.Theyalwaysleadtocivilwar.”
Hesmiledasifthatideadidnotbotherhim.“Thethreeofushavecometoanagreement.Wehave
dividedupthenewempire…bywhichImeanNorthAmerica.OncewehavetheOracles,we’llexpand
anddowhatRomanshavealwaysdonebest—conquertheworld.”
Icouldonlystareathim.“Youtrulylearnednothingfromyourpreviousreign.”
“Oh,butIdid!I’vehadcenturiestoreflect,plan,andprepare.Doyouhaveanyideahowannoying
itistobeagod-emperor,unabletodiebutunabletofullylive?Therewasaperiodofaboutthree
hundredyearsduringtheMiddleAgeswhenmynamewasalmostforgotten.Iwaslittlemorethana
mirage!ThankgoodnessfortheRenaissance,whenourClassicalgreatnesswasremembered.And
thencametheInternet.Oh,gods,IlovetheInternet!Itisimpossibleformetofadecompletelynow.I
amimmortalonWikipedia!”
Iwinced.IwasnowfullyconvincedofNero’sinsanity.Wikipediawasalwaysgettingstuffwrong
aboutme.
Herolledhishand.“Yes,yes.YouthinkIamcrazy.Icouldexplainmyplansandproveotherwise,
butIhavealotonmyplatetoday.IneedyouandMegtoopenthosegates.They’veresistedmybest
efforts,buttogetheryoutwocandoit.Apollo,youhaveanaffinitywithOracles.Meghasawaywith
trees.Gettoit.Pleaseandthankyou.”
“Wewouldratherdie,”Isaid.“Wouldn’twe,Meg?”
Noresponse.
Iglancedover.AsilverystreakglistenedonMeg’scheek.AtfirstIthoughtoneofherrhinestones
hadmelted.ThenIrealizedshewascrying.
“Meg?”
Neroclaspedhishandsasifinprayer.“Oh,my.Itseemswe’vehadaslightmiscommunication.
Yousee,Apollo,Megbroughtyouhere,justasIaskedherto.Welldone,mysweet.”
Megwipedherface.“I—Ididn’tmean…”
Myheartcompressedtothesizeofapebble.“Meg,no.Ican’tbelieve—”
Ireachedforher.Peachessnarledandinsertedhimselfbetweenus.Irealizedthekarposwasnot
heretoprotectusfromNero.HewasdefendingMegfromme.
“Meg?”Isaid.“Thismankilledyourfather!He’samurderer!”
Shestaredattheground.Whenshespoke,hervoicewasevenmoretorturedthanminewaswhenI
sangintheanthill.“TheBeastkilledmyfather.ThisisNero.He’s—he’smystepfather.”
IcouldnotfullygraspthisbeforeNerospreadhisarms.
“That’sright,mydarling,”hesaid.“Andyou’vedoneawonderfuljob.CometoPapa.”
IschoolMcCaffrey
Yo,girl,yourstepdadiswack
Whywon’tshelisten?
IHADBEENBETRAYEDBEFORE.
Thememoriescamefloodingbacktomeinapainfultide.Once,myformergirlfriendCyrene
tookupwithAresjusttogetbackatme.Anothertime,ArtemisshotmeinthegroinbecauseIwas
flirtingwithherHunters.In1928,AlexanderFlemingfailedtogivemecreditforinspiringhis
discoveryofpenicillin.Imean,ouch.Thatstung.
ButIcouldn’tremembereverbeingsowrongaboutsomeoneasIhadbeenaboutMeg.Well…at
leastnotsinceIrvingBerlin.“Alexander’sRagtimeBand”?Iremembertellinghim.You’llnevermake
itbigwithacornysonglikethat!
“Meg,wearefriends.”Myvoicesoundedpetulanteventomyself.“Howcouldyoudothisto
me?”
Meglookeddownatherredsneakers—theprimary-coloredshoesofatraitor.“Itriedtotellyou,
towarnyou.”
“Shehasagoodheart.”Nerosmiled.“But,Apollo,youandMeghavebeenfriendsforjustafew
days—andonlybecauseIaskedMegtobefriendyou.IhavebeenMeg’sstepfather,protector,and
caretakerforyears.SheisamemberoftheImperialHousehold.”
IstaredatmybelovedDumpsterwaif.Yes,somehowoverthepastweekshehadbecomebeloved
tome.IcouldnotimagineherasImperialanything—definitelynotasapartofNero’sentourage.
“Iriskedmylifeforyou,”Isaidinamazement.“Andthatactuallymeanssomething,becauseIcan
die!”
Neroclappedpolitely.“We’reallimpressed,Apollo.Now,ifyou’dopenthegates.They’vedefied
mefortoolong.”
ItriedtoglareatMeg,butmyheartwasn’tinit.Ifelttoohurtandvulnerable.Wegodsdonotlike
feelingvulnerable.Besides,Megwasn’tevenlookingatme.
Inadaze,Iturnedtotheoaktreegates.IsawnowthattheirfusedtrunksweremarredfromNero’s
previousefforts—chain-sawscars,burnmarks,bitesfromaxblades,evensomebulletholes.All
thesehadbarelychippedtheouterbark.Themostdamagedareawasaninch-deepimpressioninthe
shapeofahumanhand,wherethewoodhadbubbledandpeeledaway.Iglancedattheunconscious
faceofPauliethegeysergod,strungupandboundwiththefivedemigods.
“Nero,whathaveyoudone?”
“Oh,anumberofthings!Wefoundawayintothisantechamberweeksago.TheLabyrinthhasa
convenientopeninginthemyrmekes’nest.Butgettingthroughthesegates—”
“Youforcedthepalikostohelpyou?”Ihadtorestrainmyselffromthrowingmywindchimesat
theemperor.“Youusedanaturespirittodestroynature?Meg,howcanyoutoleratethis?”
Peachesgrowled.ForonceIhadthefeelingthatthegrainspiritmightbeinagreementwithme.
Meg’sexpressionwasasclosedupasthegates.Shestaredintentlyattheboneslitteringthefield.
“Comenow,”Nerosaid.“Megknowstherearegoodnaturespirits,andbadones.Thisgeysergod
wasannoying.Hekeptaskingustofilloutsurveys.Besides,heshouldn’thaveventuredsofarfrom
hissourceofpower.Hewasquiteeasytocapture.Hissteam,asyoucansee,didn’tdousmuchgood
anyway.”
“Andthefivedemigods?”Idemanded.“Didyou‘use’them,too?”
“Ofcourse.Ididn’tplanonluringthemhere,buteverytimeweattackedthegates,thegrove
startedwailing.Isupposeitwascallingforhelp,andthedemigodscouldn’tresist.Thefirsttowander
inwasthisone.”HepointedtoCecilMarkowitz.“Thelasttwowereyourownchildren—Austinand
Kayla,yes?TheyshowedupafterweforcedPaulietosteam-broilthetrees.Iguessthegrovewas
quitenervousaboutthatattempt.Wegottwodemigodsforthepriceofone!”
Ilostcontrol.Iletoutagutturalhowlandchargedtheemperor,intendingtowringhishairy
excuseforaneck.TheGermaniwouldhavekilledmebeforeIevergotthatfar,butIwassavedthe
indignity.Itrippedoverahumanpelvisandbelly-surfedthroughthebones.
“Apollo!”Megrantowardme.
Irolledoverandkickedatherlikeafussychild.“Idon’tneedyourhelp!Don’tyouunderstand
whoyourprotectoris?He’samonster!He’stheemperorwho—”
“Don’tsayit,”Nerowarned.“Ifyousay‘whofiddledwhileRomeburned,’IwillhaveVinceand
Garyflayyouforasetofhidearmor.YouknowaswellasIdo,Apollo,wedidn’thavefiddlesback
then.AndIdidnotstarttheGreatFireofRome.”
Istruggledtomyfeet.“Butyouprofitedfromit.”
FacingNero,Irememberedallthetawdrydetailsofhisrule—theextravaganceandcrueltythat
hadmadehimsoembarrassingtome,hisforefather.Nerowasthatrelativeyouneverwantedto
invitetoLupercaliadinner.
“Meg,”Isaid,“yourstepfatherwatchedasseventypercentofRomewasdestroyed.Tensof
thousandsdied.”
“IwasthirtymilesawayinAntium!”Nerosnarled.“Irushedbacktothecityandpersonallyled
thefirebrigades!”
“Onlywhenthefirethreatenedyourpalace.”
Nerorolledhiseyes.“Ican’thelpitifIarrivedjustintimetosavethemostimportantbuilding!”
Megcuppedherhandsoverherears.“Stoparguing.Please.”
Ididn’tstop.Talkingseemedbetterthanmyotheroptions,likehelpingNeroordying.
“AftertheGreatFire,”Itoldher,“insteadofrebuildingthehousesonPalatineHill,Neroleveled
theneighborhoodandbuiltanewpalace—theDomusAurea.”
Nerogotadreamylookonhisface.“Ah,yes…theHouseofGold.Itwasbeautiful,Meg!Ihadmy
ownlake,threehundredrooms,frescoesofgold,mosaicsdoneinpearlsanddiamonds—Icould
finallylivelikeahumanbeing!”
“Youhadthenervetoputahundred-foot-tallbronzestatueinyourfrontlawn!”Isaid.“Astatueof
yourselfasSol-Apollo,thesungod.Inotherwords,youclaimedtobeme.”
“Indeed,”Neroagreed.“EvenafterIdied,thatstatuelivedon.Iunderstanditbecamefamousas
theColossusofNero!Theymovedittothegladiators’amphitheaterandeveryonebegancallingthe
theaterafterthestatue—theColosseum.”Neropuffeduphischest.“Yes…thestatuewastheperfect
choice.”
Histonesoundedevenmoresinisterthanusual.
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Idemanded.
“Hmm?Oh,nothing.”Hecheckedhiswatch…amauve-and-goldRolex.“Thepointis,Ihadstyle!
Thepeoplelovedme!”
Ishookmyhead.“Theyturnedagainstyou.ThepeopleofRomeweresureyou’dstartedtheGreat
Fire,soyouscapegoatedtheChristians.”
Iwasawarethatthisarguingwaspointless.IfMeghadhiddenhertrueidentityallthistime,I
doubtedIcouldchangehermindnow.ButperhapsIcouldstalllongenoughforthecavalrytoarrive.
IfonlyIhadacavalry.
Nerowaveddismissively.“ButtheChristianswereterrorists,yousee.Perhapstheydidn’tstartthe
fire,buttheywerecausingallsortsofothertrouble.Irecognizedthatbeforeanyoneelse!”
“Hefedthemtothelions,”ItoldMeg.“Heburnedthemashumantorches,thewayhewillburn
thesesix.”
Meg’sfaceturnedgreen.Shegazedattheunconsciousprisonersonthestakes.“Nero,you
wouldn’t—”
“Theywillbereleased,”Neropromised,“aslongasApollocooperates.”
“Meg,youcan’ttrusthim,”Isaid.“Thelasttimehedidthis,hestrungupChristiansalloverhis
backyardandburnedthemtoilluminatehisgardenparty.Iwasthere.Irememberthescreaming.”
Megclutchedherstomach.
“Mydear,don’tbelievehisstories!”Nerosaid.“Thatwasjustpropagandainventedbymy
enemies.”
MegstudiedthefaceofPauliethegeysergod.“Nero…youdidn’tsayanythingaboutmaking
themintotorches.”
“Theywon’tburn,”hesaid,strainingtosoftenhisvoice.“Itwon’tcometothat.TheBeastwillnot
havetoact.”
“Yousee,Meg?”Iwaggedafingerattheemperor.“It’sneveragoodsignwhensomeonestarts
referringtohimselfinthethirdperson.Zeususedtoscoldmeaboutthatconstantly!”
VinceandGarysteppedforward,theirknuckleswhiteningontheirspears.
“Iwouldbecareful,”Nerowarned.“MyGermaniaresensitiveaboutinsultstotheImperial
person.Now,asmuchasIlovetalkingaboutmyself,we’reonaschedule.”Hecheckedhiswatch
again.“You’llopenthegates.ThenMegwillseeifshecanusethetreestointerpretthefuture.Ifso,
wonderful!Ifnot…well,we’llburnthatbridgewhenwecometoit.”
“Meg,”Isaid,“he’samadman.”
Atherfeet,Peacheshissedprotectively.
Meg’schinquivered.“Nerocaredaboutme,Apollo.Hegavemeahome.Hetaughtmetofight.”
“Yousaidhekilledyourfather!”
“No!”Sheshookherheadadamantly,alookofpanicinhereyes.“No,that’snotwhatIsaid.The
Beastkilledhim.”
“But—”
Nerosnorted.“Oh,Apollo…youunderstandsolittle.Meg’sfatherwasweak.Shedoesn’teven
rememberhim.Hecouldn’tprotecther.Iraisedher.Ikeptheralive.”
Myheartsankevenfurther.IdidnotunderstandeverythingMeghadbeenthrough,orwhatshe
wasfeelingnow,butIknewNero.Isawhoweasilyhecouldhavetwistedascaredchild’s
understandingoftheworld—alittlegirlallalone,yearningforsafetyandacceptanceafterher
father ’smurder,evenifthatacceptancecamefromherfather ’skiller.“Meg…Iamsosorry.”
Anotherteartracedhercheek.
“Shedoesn’tNEEDsympathy.”Nero’svoiceturnedashardasbronze.“Now,mydear,ifyou
wouldbesokind,openthegates.IfApolloobjects,remindhimthatheisboundtofollowyour
orders.”
Megswallowed.“Apollo,don’tmakeitharder.Please…helpmeopenthegates.”
Ishookmyhead.“Notbychoice.”
“ThenI—Icommandyou.Helpme.Now.”
Listentothetrees
Thetreesknowwhatisup,yo
Theyknowallthethings
MEG’SRESOLVEmayhavebeenwavering,butPeaches’swasnot.
WhenIhesitatedtofollowMeg’sorders,thegrainspiritbaredhisfangsandhissed,“Peaches,”as
ifthatwasanewtorturetechnique.
“Fine,”ItoldMeg,myvoiceturningbitter.Thetruthwas,Ihadnochoice.IcouldfeelMeg’s
commandsinkingintomymuscles,compellingmetoobey.
Ifacedthefusedoaksandputmyhandsagainsttheirtrunks.Ifeltnooracularpowerwithin.I
heardnovoices—justheavystubbornsilence.Theonlymessagethetreesseemedtobesendingwas:
GOAWAY.
“Ifwedothis,”ItoldMeg,“Nerowilldestroythegrove.”
“Hewon’t.”
“Hehasto.Hecan’tcontrolDodona.Itspoweristooancient.Hecan’tletanyoneelseuseit.”
Megplacedherhandsagainstthetrees,justbelowmine.“Concentrate.Openthem.Please.You
don’twanttoangertheBeast.”
Shesaidthisinalowvoice—againspeakingasiftheBeastwassomeoneIhadnotyetmet…a
boogeymanlurkingunderthebed,notamaninapurplesuitstandingafewfeetaway.
IcouldnotrefuseMeg’sorders,butperhapsIshouldhaveprotestedmorevigorously.Megmight
havebackeddownifIcalledherbluff.ButthenNeroorPeachesortheGermaniwouldhavejust
killedme.Iwillconfesstoyou:Iwasafraidofdying.Courageously,nobly,handsomelyafraid,true.
Butafraidnonetheless.
Iclosedmyeyes.Isensedthetrees’implacableresistance,theirmistrustofoutsiders.Iknewthat
ifIforcedopenthesegates,thegrovewouldbedestroyed.YetIreachedoutwithallmywillpower
andsoughtthevoiceofprophecy,drawingittome.
IthoughtofRhea,QueenoftheTitans,whohadfirstplantedthisgrove.Despitebeingachildof
GaeaandOuranos,despitebeingmarriedtothecannibalkingKronos,Rheahadmanagedtocultivate
wisdomandkindness.Shehadgivenbirthtoanew,betterbreedofimmortals.(IfIdosaysomyself.)
Sherepresentedthebestoftheancienttimes.
True,shehadwithdrawnfromtheworldandstartedapotterystudioinWoodstock,butshestill
caredaboutDodona.Shehadsentmeheretoopenthegrove,toshareitspower.Shewasnotthekind
ofgoddesswhobelievedinclosedgatesorNOTRESPASSINGsigns.Ibegantohumsoftly“ThisLandIs
YourLand.”
Thebarkgrewwarmundermyfingertips.Thetreerootstrembled.
IglancedatMeg.Shewasdeepinconcentration,leaningagainstthetrunksasiftryingtopush
themover.Everythingaboutherwasfamiliar:herrattypageboyhair,herglitteringcat-eyeglasses,
herrunnynoseandchewedcuticlesandfaintscentofapplepie.
ButshewassomeoneIdidn’tknowatall:stepdaughtertotheimmortalcrazyNero.Amemberof
theImperialHousehold.Whatdidthatevenmean?IpicturedtheBradyBunchinpurpletogas,lined
uponthefamilystaircasewithNeroatthebottominAlice’smaiduniform.Havingavivid
imaginationisaterriblecurse.
Unfortunatelyforthegrove,MegwasalsothedaughterofDemeter.Thetreesrespondedtoher
power.Thetwinoaksrumbled.Theirtrunksbegantomove.
Iwantedtostop,butIwascaughtupinthemomentum.Thegroveseemedtobedrawingonmy
powernow.Myhandsstucktothetrees.Thegatesopenedwider,forciblyspreadingmyarms.Fora
terrifyingmoment,Ithoughtthetreesmightkeepmovingandripmelimbfromlimb.Thenthey
stopped.Therootssettled.Thebarkcooledandreleasedme.
Istumbledback,exhausted.Megremained,transfixed,inthenewlyopenedgateway.
Ontheothersidewere…well,moretrees.Despitethewintercold,theyoungoaksrosetalland
green,growinginconcentriccirclesaroundaslightlylargerspecimeninthecenter.Litteringthe
groundwereacornsglowingwithafaintamberlight.Aroundthegrovestoodaprotectivewallof
treesevenmoreformidablethantheonesintheantechamber.Above,anothertightlywovendomeof
branchesguardedtheplacefromaerialintruders.
BeforeIcouldwarnher,Megsteppedacrossthethreshold.Thevoicesexploded.Imagineforty
nailgunsfiringintoyourbrainfromalldirectionsatonce.Thewordswerebabble,buttheytoreat
mysanity,demandingmyattention.Icoveredmyears.Thenoisejustgotlouderandmorepersistent.
Peachesclawedfranticallyatthedirt,tryingtoburyhishead.VinceandGarywrithedonthe
ground.Eventheunconsciousdemigodsthrashedandmoanedontheirstakes.
Neroreeled,hishandraisedasiftoblockanintenselight.“Meg,controlthevoices!Doitnow!”
Megdidn’tappearhurtbythenoise,butshelookedbewildered.“They’resayingsomething…”
Shesweptherhandsthroughtheair,pullingatinvisiblethreadstountanglethepandemonium.
“They’reagitated.Ican’t—Wait…”
Suddenlythevoicesshutoff,asifthey’dmadetheirpoint.
MegturnedtowardNero,hereyeswide.“It’strue.Thetreestoldmeyoumeantoburnthem.”
TheGermanigroaned,half-consciousontheground.Nerorecoveredmorequickly.Heraiseda
finger,admonishing,guiding.“Listentome,Meg.I’dhopedthegrovecouldbeuseful,butobviously
itisfracturedandconfused.Youcan’tbelievewhatitsays.It’sthemouthpieceofasenileTitanqueen.
Thegrovemustberazed.It’stheonlyway,Meg.Youunderstandthat,don’tyou?”
HekickedGaryoverontohisbackandrifledthroughthebodyguard’spouches.ThenNerostood,
triumphantlyholdingaboxofmatches.
“Afterthefire,we’llrebuild,”hesaid.“Itwillbeglorious!”
Megstaredathimasifnoticinghishorrendousneckbeardforthefirsttime.“Wh-whatareyou
talkingabout?”
“He’sgoingtoburnandlevelLongIsland,”Isaid.“Thenhe’llmakeithisprivatedomain,just
likehedidwithRome.”
Nerolaughedinexasperation.“LongIslandisamessanyway!Noonewillmissit.Mynew
imperialcomplexwillextendfromManhattantoMontauk—thegreatestpalaceeverbuilt!We’llhave
privateriversandlakes,onehundredmilesofbeachfrontproperty,gardensbigenoughfortheirown
zipcodes.I’llbuildeachmemberofmyhouseholdaprivateskyscraper.Oh,Meg,imaginetheparties
wewillhaveinournewDomusAurea!”
Thetruthwasaheavything.Meg’skneesbuckledunderitsweight.
“Youcan’t.”Hervoiceshook.“Thewoods—I’mthedaughterofDemeter.”
“You’remydaughter,”Nerocorrected.“AndIcareforyoudeeply.Whichiswhyyouneedto
moveaside.Quickly.”
Hesetamatchtothestrikingsurfaceofthebox.“AssoonasIlightthesestakes,ourhuman
torcheswillsendawaveoffirestraightthroughthatgateway.Nothingwillbeabletostopit.The
entireforestwillburn.”
“Please!”Megcried.
“Comealong,dearest.”Nero’sfrownhardened.“Apolloisofnousetousanymore.Youdon’t
wanttowaketheBeast,doyou?”
Helithismatchandsteppedtowardtheneareststake,wheremysonAustinwasbound.
IttakesaVillage
Peopletoprotectyourmind
“Y.M.C.A.”Yeah
OH,THISPARTISDIFFICULTTOTELL.
Iamanaturalstoryteller.Ihaveaninfallibleinstinctfordrama.Iwanttorelatewhatshouldhave
happened:howIleapedforwardshouting,“Nooooo!”andspunlikeanacrobat,knockingasidethelit
match,thentwistedinaseriesofblazing-fastShaolinmoves,crackingNero’sheadandtakingouthis
bodyguardsbeforetheycouldrecover.
Ah,yes.Thatwouldhavebeenperfect.
Alas,thetruthconstrainsme.
Curseyou,truth!
Infact,Isplutteredsomethinglike,“Nuh-uh,dun-doot!”ImayhavewavedmyBrazilian
handkerchiefwiththehopethatitsmagicwoulddestroymyenemies.
TherealherowasPeaches.ThekarposmusthavesensedMeg’struefeelings,orperhapshejust
didn’tliketheideaofburningforests.Hehurtledthroughtheair,screaminghiswarcry(youguessed
it),“Peaches!”HelandedonNero’sarm,chompedthelitmatchfromtheemperor ’shand,thenlanded
afewfeetaway,wipinghistongueandcrying,“Hat!Hat!”(WhichIassumedmeanthotinthedialect
ofdeciduousfruit.)
ThescenemighthavebeenfunnyexceptthattheGermaniwerenowbackontheirfeet,five
demigodsandageyserspiritwerestilltiedtohighlyflammableposts,andNerostillhadaboxof
matches.
Theemperorstaredathisemptyhand.“Meg…?”Hisvoicewasascoldasanicicle.“Whatisthe
meaningofthis?”
“P-Peaches,comehere!”Meg’svoicehadturnedbrittlewithfear.
Thekarposboundedtoherside.Hehissedatme,Nero,andtheGermani.
Megtookashakybreath,clearlygatheringhernerve.“Nero…Peachesisright.You—youcan’t
burnthesepeoplealive.”
Nerosighed.Helookedathisbodyguardsformoralsupport,buttheGermanistillappeared
woozy.Theywerehittingthesidesoftheirheadsasiftryingtoclearwaterfromtheirears.
“Meg,”saidtheemperor,“IamtryingsohardtokeeptheBeastatbay.Whywon’tyouhelpme?I
knowyouareagoodgirl.Iwouldn’thaveallowedyoutoroamaroundManhattansomuchonyour
own,playingthestreetwaif,ifIdidn’tknowyoucouldtakecareofyourself.Butsoftnesstoward
yourenemiesisnotavirtue.Youaremystepdaughter.Anyofthesedemigodswouldkillyouwithout
hesitationgiventhechance.”
“Meg,that’snottrue!”Isaid.“You’veseenwhatCampHalf-Bloodislike.”
Shestudiedmeuneasily.“Even…evenifitwastrue…”SheturnedtoNero.“Youtoldmeneverto
lowermyselftomyenemies’level.”
“No,indeed.”Nero’stonehadfrayedlikeaweatheredrope.“Wearebetter.Wearestronger.We
willbuildagloriousnewworld.Butthesenonsense-spewingtreesstandinourway,Meg.Likeany
invasiveweeds,theymustbeburned.Andtheonlywaytodothatiswithatrueconflagration—flames
stokedbyblood.Letusdothistogether,andnotinvolvetheBeast,shallwe?”
Finally,inmymind,somethingclicked.Irememberedhowmyfatherusedtopunishmecenturies
ago,whenIwasayounggodlearningthewaysofOlympus.Zeususedtosay,Don’tgetonthewrong
sideofmylightningbolts,boy.
Asifthelightningbolthadamindofitsown—asifZeushadnothingtodowiththepunishments
hemetedoutuponme.
Don’tblameme,histoneimplied.It’sthelightningboltthatsearedeverymoleculeinyourbody.
Manyyearslater,whenIkilledtheCyclopeswhomadeZeus’slightning,itwasnorashdecision.I’d
alwayshatedthoselightningbolts.Itwaseasierthanhatingmyfather.
NerotookthesametonewhenhereferredtohimselfastheBeast.Hespokeofhisangerand
crueltyasiftheywereforcesoutsidehiscontrol.Ifheflewintoarage…wellthen,hewouldhold
Megresponsible.
Therealizationsickenedme.MeghadbeentrainedtoregardherkindlystepfatherNeroandthe
terrifyingBeastastwoseparatepeople.Iunderstoodnowwhyshepreferredtospendhertimeinthe
alleysofNewYork.Iunderstoodwhyshehadsuchquickmoodchanges,goingfromcartwheelsto
fullshutdowninamatterofseconds.SheneverknewwhatmightunleashtheBeast.
Shefixedhereyesonme.Herlipsquivered.Icouldtellshewantedawayout—someeloquent
argumentthatwouldmollifyherstepfatherandallowhertofollowherconscience.ButIwasno
longerasilver-tonguedgod.IcouldnotouttalkanoratorlikeNero.AndIwouldnotplaytheBeast’s
blamegame.
Instead,ItookapagefromMeg’sbook,whichwasalwaysshortandtothepoint.
“He’sevil,”Isaid.“You’regood.Youmustmakeyourownchoice.”
IcouldtellthatthiswasnotthenewsMegwanted.Hermouthtightened.Shedrewbackher
shoulderbladesasifpreparingforameaslesshot—somethingpainfulbutnecessary.Sheplacedher
handonthekarpos’scurlyscalp.“Peaches,”shesaidinasmallbutfirmvoice,“getthematchbox.”
Thekarpossprangintoaction.NerobarelyhadtimetoblinkbeforePeachesrippedtheboxfrom
hishandandjumpedbacktoMeg’sside.
TheGermanireadiedtheirspears.Neroraisedhishandforrestraint.HegaveMegalookthat
mighthavebeenheartbreak—ifhehadpossessedaheart.
“Iseeyouweren’treadyforthisassignment,mydear,”hesaid.“It’smyfault.Vince,Gary,detain
Megbutdon’thurther.Whenwegethome…”Heshrugged,hisexpressionfullofregret.“Asfor
Apolloandthelittlefruitdemon,theywillhavetoburn.”
“No,”Megcroaked.Then,atfullvolume,sheshouted,“NO!”AndtheGroveofDodonashouted
withher.
Theblastwassopowerful,itknockedNeroandhisguardsofftheirfeet.Peachesscreamedand
beathisheadagainstthedirt.
Thistime,however,Iwasmoreprepared.Asthetrees’ear-splittingchorusreacheditscrescendo,
IanchoredmymindwiththecatchiesttuneIcouldimagine.Ihummed“Y.M.C.A.,”whichIusedto
performwiththeVillagePeopleinmyconstructionworkercostumeuntiltheIndianchiefandIgotin
afightover—Nevermind.That’snotimportant.
“Meg!”Ipulledthebrasswindchimesfrommypocketandtossedthemtoher.“Puttheseonthe
centertree!Y.M.C.A.Focusthegrove’senergy!Y.M.C.A.”
Iwasn’tsureshecouldhearme.Sheraisedthechimesandwatchedastheyswayedandclanked,
turningthenoisefromthetreesintosnatchesofcoherentspeech:Happinessapproaches.Thefallof
thesun;thefinalverse.Wouldyouliketohearourspecialstoday?
Meg’sfacewentslackwithsurprise.Sheturnedtowardthegroveandsprintedthroughthe
gateway.Peachescrawledafterher,shakinghishead.
Iwantedtofollow,butIcouldn’tleaveNeroandhisguardsalonewithsixhostages.Still
humming“Y.M.C.A.,”Imarchedtowardthem.
Thetreesscreamedlouderthanever,butNerorosetohisknees.Hepulledsomethingfromhis
coatpocket—avialofliquid—andsplasheditonthegroundinfrontofhim.Idoubtedthatwasa
goodthing,butIhadmoreimmediateconcerns.VinceandGaryweregettingup.Vincethrusthis
spearinmydirection.
Iwasangryenoughtobereckless.Igrabbedthepointofhisweaponandyankedthespearup,
smackingVinceunderhischin.Hefell,stunned,andIgrabbedfistfulsofhishidearmor.
Hewaseasilytwicemysize.Ididn’tcare.Iliftedhimoffhisfeet.Myarmssizzledwithpower.I
feltinvinciblystrong—thewayagodshouldfeel.Ihadnoideawhymystrengthhadreturned,butI
decidedthiswasnotthemomenttoquestionmygoodluck.IspunVincelikeadiscus,tossinghim
skywardwithsuchforcethathepunchedaGermanus-shapedholeinthetreecanopyandsailedoutof
sight.
KudostotheImperialGuardforhavingstupidamountsofcourage.Despitemyshowofforce,
Garychargedme.Withonehand,Isnappedhisspear.Withtheother,Ipunchedafiststraightthrough
hisshieldandhithischestwithenoughmighttofellarhinoceros.
Hecollapsedinaheap.
IfacedNero.Icouldalreadyfeelmystrengthebbing.Mymuscleswerereturningtotheirpathetic
mortalflabbiness.IjusthopedI’dhaveenoughtimetoripoffNero’sheadandstuffitdownhis
mauvesuit.
Theemperorsnarled.“You’reafool,Apollo.Youalwaysfocusonthewrongthing.”Heglanced
athisRolex.“Mywreckingcrewwillbehereanyminute.OnceCampHalf-Bloodisdestroyed,I’ll
makeitmynewfrontlawn!Meanwhile,you’llbehere…puttingoutfires.”
Fromhisvestpocket,heproducedasilvercigarettelighter.TypicalofNerotokeepseveral
formsoffire-makingcloseathand.Ilookedattheglisteningstreaksofoilhehadsplashedonthe
ground….Greekfire,ofcourse.
“Don’t,”Isaid.
Nerogrinned.“Good-bye,Apollo.OnlyelevenmoreOlympianstogo.”
Hedroppedthelighter.
IdidnothavethepleasureoftearingNero’sheadoff.
CouldIhavestoppedhimfromfleeing?Possibly.Buttheflameswereroaringbetweenus,
burninggrassandbones,treeroots,andtheearthitself.Theblazewastoostrongtostampout,if
Greekfireevencouldbestampedout,anditwasrollinghungrilytowardthesixboundhostages.
IletNerogo.SomehowhehauledGarytohisfeetandluggedthepunch-drunkGermanustoward
theants’nest.Meanwhile,Irantothestakes.
TheclosestwasAustin’s.Iwrappedmyarmsaroundthebaseandpulled,completelydisregarding
properheavy-liftingtechniques.Mymusclesstrained.Myeyesswamwiththeeffort.Imanagedto
raisethestakeenoughtotoppleitbackward.Austinstirredandgroaned.
Idraggedhim,cocoonandall,totheothersideoftheclearing,asfarfromthefireaspossible.I
wouldhavebroughthimintotheGroveofDodona,butIhadafeelingIwouldn’tbedoinghimany
favorsbyputtinghiminadead-endclearingfullofinsanevoices,inthedirectpathofapproaching
flames.
Iranbacktothestakes.Irepeatedtheprocess—uprootingKayla,thenPauliethegeysergod,then
theothers.BythetimeIpulledMirandaGardinertosafety,thefirewasaragingredtidalwave,only
inchesfromthegatesofthegrove.
Mydivinestrengthwasgone.MegandPeacheswerenowheretobeseen.Ihadboughtafew
minutesforthehostages,butthefirewouldeventuallyconsumeusall.Ifelltomykneesandsobbed.
“Help.”Iscannedthedarktrees,tangledandforeboding.Ididnotexpectanyhelp.Iwasnoteven
usedtoaskingforhelp.IwasApollo.Mortalscalledtome!(Yes,occasionallyImighthaveordered
demigodstoruntrivialerrandsforme,likestartingwarsorretrievingmagicitemsfrommonsters’
lairs,butthoserequestsdidn’tcount.)
“Ican’tdothisalone.”IimaginedDaphne’sfacefloatingbeneaththetrunkofonetree,then
another.Soonthewoodswouldburn.Icouldn’tsavethemanymorethanIcouldsaveMegorthelost
demigodsormyself.“I’msosorry.Please…forgiveme.”
Myheadmusthavebeenspinningfromsmokeinhalation.Ibegantohallucinate.Theshimmering
formsofdryadsemergedfromtheirtrees—alegionofDaphnesingreengossamerdresses.Their
expressionsweremelancholy,asiftheyknewtheyweregoingtotheirdeaths,yettheycircledthefire.
Theyraisedtheirarms,andtheeartheruptedattheirfeet.Atorrentofmudchurnedovertheflames.
Thedryadsdrewthefire’sheatintotheirbodies.Theirskincharredblack.Theirfaceshardenedand
cracked.
Assoonasthelastflamesweresnuffedout,thedryadscrumbledtoash.IwishedIcouldcrumble
withthem.Iwantedtocry,butthefirehadsearedallthemoisturefrommytearducts.Ihadnotasked
forsomanysacrifices.Ihadnotexpectedit!Ifelthollow,guilty,andashamed.
ThenitoccurredtomehowmanytimesIhadaskedforsacrifices,howmanyheroesIhadsentto
theirdeaths.Hadtheybeenanylessnobleandcourageousthanthesedryads?YetIhadfeltnoremorse
whenIsentthemoffondeadlytasks.Ihadusedthemanddiscardedthem,laidwastetotheirlivesto
buildmyownglory.IwasnolessofamonsterthanNero.
Windblewthroughtheclearing—anunseasonablywarmgustthatswirleduptheashesandcarried
themthroughtheforestcanopyintothesky.OnlyafterthebreezecalmeddidIrealizeitmusthave
beentheWestWind,myoldrival,offeringmeconsolation.Hehadsweptuptheremainsandtaken
themofftotheirnextbeautifulreincarnation.Afterallthesecenturies,Zephyroshadacceptedmy
apology.
IdiscoveredIhadsometearsleftafterall.
Behindme,someonegroaned.“WhereamI?”
Austinwasawake.
Icrawledtohisside,nowweepingwithrelief,andkissedhisface.“Mybeautifulson!”
Heblinkedatmeinconfusion.Hiscornrowsweresprinkledwithasheslikefrostonafield.I
supposeittookamomentforhimtoprocesswhyhewasbeingfawnedoverbyagrungy,halfderangedboywithacne.
“Ah,right…Apollo.”Hetriedtomove.“Whatthe—?WhyamIwrappedinsmellybandages?
Couldyoufreeme,maybe?”
Ilaughedhysterically,whichIdoubthelpedAustin’speaceofmind.Iclawedathisbindingsbut
madenoprogress.ThenIrememberedGary’ssnappedspear.Iretrievedthepointandspentseveral
minutessawingAustinfree.
Oncepulledfromthestake,hestumbledaround,tryingtoshakethecirculationbackintohis
limbs.Hetookinthescene—thesmolderingforest,theotherprisoners.TheGroveofDodonahad
stoppeditswildchorusofscreaming.(Whenhadthathappened?)Aradiantamberlightnowglowed
fromthegateway.
“What’sgoingon?”Austinasked.“Also,whereismysaxophone?”
Sensiblequestions.IwishedIhadsensibleanswers.AllIknewwasthatMegMcCaffreywasstill
wanderinginthegrove,andIdidnotlikethefactthatthetreeshadgonesilent.
Istaredatmyweakmortalarms.IwonderedwhyI’dexperiencedasuddensurgeofdivine
strengthwhenfacingtheGermani.Hadmyemotionstriggeredit?Wasitthefirstsignofmygodly
vigorreturningforgood?OrperhapsZeuswasjustmessingwithmeagain—givingmeatasteofmy
oldpowerbeforeyankingitawayoncemore.Rememberthis,kid?WELL,YOUCAN’THAVEIT!
IwishedIcouldsummonthatstrengthagain,butIwouldhavetomakedo.
IhandedAustinthebrokenspear.“Freetheothers.I’llbeback.”
Austinstaredatmeincredulously.“You’regoinginthere?Isitsafe?”
“Idoubtit,”Isaid.
ThenIrantowardtheOracle.
Partingissorrow
Nothingaboutitissweet
Don’tsteponmyface
THETREESWEREusingtheirinsidevoices.
AsIsteppedthroughthegateway,Irealizedtheywerestilltalkinginconversationaltones,
babblingnonsensicallylikesleepwalkersatacocktailparty.
Iscannedthegrove.NosignofMeg.Icalledhername.Thetreesrespondedbyraisingtheir
voices,drivingmecross-eyedwithdizziness.
Isteadiedmyselfonthenearestoak.
“Watchit,man,”thetreesaid.
Ilurchedforward,thetreestradingbitsofverseasifplayingagameofrhymes:
vesofblue.
rikethehue.
estward,burning.
gesturning.
diana.
pebanana.
appinessapproaches.
rpentsandroaches.
Noneofitmadesense,buteachlinecarriedtheweightofprophecy.Ifeltasifdozensof
importantstatements,eachvitaltomysurvival,werebeingblendedtogether,loadedinashotgun,and
firedatmyface.
(Oh,that’sarathergoodimage.I’llhavetouseitinahaiku.)
“Meg!”Icalledagain.
Stillnoreply.Thegrovedidnotseemsolarge.Howcouldshenothearme?HowcouldInotsee
her?
Isloggedalong,hummingaperfectA440hertztonetokeepmyselffocused.WhenIreachedthe
secondringoftrees,theoaksbecamemoreconversational.
“Hey,buddy,gotaquarter?”oneasked.
AnothertriedtotellmeajokeaboutapenguinandanunwalkingintoaShakeShack.
Athirdoakwasgivingitsneighboraninfomercialsalespitchaboutafoodprocessor.“Andyou
won’tbelievewhatitdoeswithpasta!”
“Wow!”saidtheothertree.“Itmakespasta,too?”
“Freshlinguineinminutes!”thesalesoakenthused.
Ididnotunderstandwhyanoaktreewouldwantlinguine,butIkeptmoving.IwasafraidthatifI
listenedtoolong,Iwouldorderthefoodprocessorforthreeeasyinstallmentsof$39.99,andmy
sanitywouldbelostforever.
Finally,Ireachedthecenterofthegrove.Onthefarsideofthelargestoaktree,Megstoodwith
herbacktothetrunk,hereyesclosedtight.Thewindchimeswerestillinherhand,buttheyhung
forgottenatherside.Thebrasscylindersclanked,mutedagainstherdress.
Atherfeet,Peachesrockedbackandforth,giggling.“Apples?Peaches!Mangoes?Peaches!”
“Meg.”Itouchedhershoulder.
Sheflinched.ShefocusedonmeasifIwereacleveropticalillusion.Hereyessimmeredwith
fear.“It’stoomuch,”shesaid.“Toomuch.”
Thevoiceshadherintheirgrip.Itwasbadenoughformetoendure—likeahundredradio
stationsplayingatonce,forciblysplittingmybrainintodifferentchannels.ButIwasusedto
prophecies.Meg,ontheotherhand,wasadaughterofDemeter.Thetreeslikedher.Theywereall
tryingtosharewithher,togetherattentionatthesametime.Soontheywouldpermanentlyfracture
hermind.
“Thewindchimes,”Isaid.“Hangtheminthetree!”
Ipointedtothelowestbranch,wellaboveourheads.Alone,neitherofuscouldreachit,butifI
gaveMegaboost…
Megbackedaway,shakingherhead.ThevoicesofDodonaweresochaoticIwasn’tsureshehad
heardme.Ifshehad,sheeitherdidn’tunderstandordidn’ttrustme.
Ihadtotampdownmyfeelingsofbetrayal.MegwasNero’sstepdaughter.Shehadbeensentto
luremehere,andourwholefriendshipwasalie.Shehadnorighttomistrustme.
ButIcouldnotstaybitter.IfIblamedherforthewayNerohadtwistedheremotions,Iwasno
betterthantheBeast.Also,justbecauseshehadliedaboutbeingmyfrienddidnotmeanIwasn’thers.
Shewasindanger.Iwasnotgoingtoleavehertothemadnessofthegrove’spenguinjokes.
Icrouchedandlacedmyfingerstomakeafoothold.“Please.”
Tomyleft,Peachesrolledontohisbackandwailed,“Linguine?Peaches!”
Meggrimaced.Icouldseefromhereyesthatshewasdecidingtocooperatewithme—not
becauseshetrustedme,butbecausePeacheswassuffering.
JustwhenIthoughtmyfeelingscouldnotbehurtanyworse.Itwasonethingtobebetrayed.Itwas
anotherthingtobeconsideredlessimportantthanadiaperedfruitspirit.
Nevertheless,IremainedsteadyasMegplacedherleftfootinmyhands.Withallmyremaining
strength,Ihoistedherup.Shesteppedontomyshoulders,thenplantedoneredsneakerontopofmy
head.Imadeamentalnotetoputasafetylabelonmyscalp:WARNING,TOPSTEPISNOTFORSTANDING.
Withmybackagainsttheoak,Icouldfeelthevoicesofthegrovecoursingupitstrunkand
drummingthroughitsbark.Thecentraltreeseemedtobeonegiantantennaforcrazytalk.
Mykneeswereabouttobuckle.Meg’streadsweregrindingintomyforehead.TheA440Ihad
beenhummingrapidlydeflatedtoaGsharp.
Finally,Megtiedthewindchimestothebranch.Shejumpeddownasmylegscollapsed,andwe
bothendedupsprawledinthedirt.
Thebrasschimesswayedandclanged,pickingnotesoutofthewindandmakingchordsfromthe
dissonance.
Thegrovehushed,asifthetreeswerelisteningandthinking,Oooh,pretty.
Thenthegroundtrembled.Thecentraloakshookwithsuchenergy,itrainedacorns.
Meggottoherfeet.Sheapproachedthetreeandtoucheditstrunk.
“Speak,”shecommanded.
Asinglevoiceboomedforthfromthewindchimes,likeacheerleaderscreamingthrougha
megaphone:
ereoncewasagodnamedApollo
hoplungedinacaveblueandhollow
ponathree-seater
ebronzefire-eater
asforceddeathandmadnesstoswallow
Thewindchimesstilled.Thegrovesettledintotranquility,asifsatisfiedwiththedeathsentenceit
hadgivenme.
Oh,thehorror!
AsonnetIcouldhavehandled.Aquatrainwouldhavebeencauseforcelebration.Butonlythe
deadliestpropheciesarecouchedintheformofalimerick.
Istaredatthewindchimes,hopingtheywouldspeakagainandcorrectthemselves.Oops,our
mistake!ThatprophecywasforadifferentApollo!
Butmyluckwasnotthatgood.Ihadbeenhandedanedictworsethanathousandadvertisements
forpastamakers.
Peachesrose.Heshookhisheadandhissedattheoaktree,whichexpressedmyownsentiments
perfectly.HehuggedMeg’scalfasifsheweretheonlythingkeepinghimfromfallingofftheworld.
Thescenewasalmostsweet,exceptforthekarpos’sfangsandglowingeyes.
Megregardedmewarily.Thelensesofherglasseswerespiderwebbedwithcracks.
“Thatprophecy,”shesaid.“Didyouunderstandit?”
Iswallowedamouthfulofsoot.“Perhaps.Someofit.We’llneedtotalktoRachel—”
“There’snomorewe.”Meg’stonewasasacridasthevolcanicgasofDelphi.“Dowhatyouneed
todo.That’smyfinalorder.”
Thishitmelikeaspearshafttothechin,despitethefactthatshehadliedtomeandbetrayedme.
“Meg,youcan’t.”Icouldn’tkeeptheshakinessoutofmyvoice.“Youclaimedmyservice.Until
mytrialsareover—”
“Ireleaseyou.”
“No!”Icouldnotstandtheideaofbeingabandoned.Notagain.NotbythisragamuffinDumpster
queenwhomI’dlearnedtocareaboutsomuch.“Youcan’tpossiblybelieveinNeronow.Youheard
himexplainhisplans.Hemeanstolevelthisentireisland!Yousawwhathetriedtodotohis
hostages.”
“He—hewouldn’thaveletthemburn.Hepromised.Heheldback.Yousawit.Thatwasn’tthe
Beast.”
Myribcagefeltlikeanover-tightenedharp.“Meg…NeroistheBeast.Hekilledyourfather.”
“No!Neroismystepfather.Mydad…mydadunleashedtheBeast.Hemadeitangry.”
“Meg—”
“Stop!”Shecoveredherears.“Youdon’tknowhim.Neroisgoodtome.Icantalktohim.Ican
makeitokay.”
Herdenialwassocomplete,soirrational,IrealizedtherewasnowayIcouldarguewithher.She
remindedmepainfullyofmyselfwhenIfelltoearth—howIhadrefusedtoacceptmynewreality.
WithoutMeg’shelp,Iwould’vegottenmyselfkilled.Nowourroleswerereversed.
Iedgedtowardher,butPeaches’ssnarlstoppedmeinmytracks.
Megbackedaway.“We’redone.”
“Wecan’tbe,”Isaid.“We’rebound,whetheryoulikeitornot.”
Itoccurredtomethatshe’dsaidtheexactsamethingtomeonlyafewdaysbefore.
Shegavemeonelastlookthroughhercrackedlenses.Iwouldhavegivenanythingforherto
blowaraspberry.IwantedtowalkthestreetsofManhattanwithherdoingcartwheelsinthe
intersections.ImissedhobblingwithherthroughtheLabyrinth,ourlegstiedtogether.Iwould’ve
settledforagoodgarbagefightinanalley.Instead,sheturnedandfled,withPeachesatherheels.It
seemedtomethattheydissolvedintothetrees,justthewayDaphnehaddonelongago.
Abovemyhead,abreezemadethewindchimesjingle.Thistime,novoicescamefromthetrees.I
didn’tknowhowlongDodonawouldremainsilent,butIdidn’twanttobehereiftheoaksdecidedto
starttellingjokesagain.
Iturnedandsawsomethingstrangeatmyfeet:anarrowwithanoakshaftandgreenfletching.
Thereshouldn’thavebeenanarrow.Ihadn’tbroughtanyintothegrove.Butinmydazedstate,I
didn’tquestionthis.Ididwhatanyarcherwoulddo:Iretrievedit,andreturnedittomyquiver.
Uber’sgotnothing
Lyftisweak.Andtaxis?Nah
Myrideisdamom
AUSTINHADFREEDTHEOTHERPRISONERS.
Theylookedliketheyhadbeendippedinavatofglueandcottonswabs,butotherwisethey
seemedremarkablyundamaged.EllisWakefieldstaggeredaroundwithhisfistsclenched,lookingfor
somethingtopunch.CecilMarkowitz,sonofHermes,satonthegroundtryingtocleanhissneakers
withadeer ’sthighbone.Austin—resourcefulboy!—hadproducedacanteenofwaterandwas
washingtheGreekfireoffofKayla’sface.MirandaGardiner,theheadcounselorofDemeter,knelt
bytheplacewherethedryadshadsacrificedthemselves.Sheweptsilently.
Pauliethepalikosfloatedtowardme.Likehispartner,Pete,hislowerhalfwasallsteam.Fromthe
waistuphelookedlikeaslimmer,moreabusedversionofhisgeyserbuddy.Hismudskinwas
crackedlikeaparchedriverbed.Hisfacewaswithered,asifeverybitofmoisturehadbeensqueezed
outofhim.LookingatthedamageNerohaddonetohim,IaddedafewmoreitemstoamentallistI
waspreparing:WaystoTortureanEmperorintheFieldsofPunishment.
“Yousavedme,”Pauliesaidwithamazement.“Bringitin!”
Hethrewhisarmsaroundme.Hispowerwassodiminishedthathisbodyheatdidnotkillme,but
itdidopenupmysinusesquitewell.
“Youshouldgethome,”Isaid.“Peteisworried,andyouneedtoregainyourstrength.”
“Ah,man…”Pauliewipedasteamingtearfromhisface.“Yeah,I’mgone.Butanythingyouever
need—afreesteamcleaning,somePRwork,amudscrub,younameit.”
Ashedissolvedintomist,Icalledafterhim.“AndPaulie?I’dgivetheWoodsatCampHalf-Blood
atenforcustomersatisfaction.”
Pauliebeamedwithgratitude.Hetriedtohugmeagain,buthewasalreadyninetypercentsteam.
AllIgotwasahumidwaftofmud-scentedair.Thenhewasgone.
Thefivedemigodsgatheredaroundme.
MirandalookedpastmeatthegroveofDodona.Hereyeswerestillpuffyfromcrying,butshe
hadbeautifulirisesthecolorofnewfoliage.“So,thevoicesIheardfromthatgrove…It’sreallyan
oracle?Thosetreescangiveusprophecies?”
Ishivered,thinkingoftheoaktrees’limerick.“Perhaps.”
“CanIsee—?”
“No,”Isaid.“Notuntilweunderstandtheplacebetter.”
IhadalreadylostonedaughterofDemetertoday.Ididn’tintendtoloseanother.
“Idon’tgetit,”Ellisgrumbled.“You’reApollo?Like,theApollo.”
“I’mafraidso.It’salongstory.”
“Oh,gods…”Kaylascannedtheclearing.“IthoughtIheardMeg’svoiceearlier.DidIdreamthat?
Wasshewithyou?Issheokay?”
Theotherslookedatmeforanexplanation.Theirexpressionsweresofragileandtentative,I
decidedIcouldn’tbreakdowninfrontofthem.
“She’s…alive,”Imanaged.“Shehadtoleave.”
“What?”Kaylaasked.“Why?”
“Nero,”Isaid.“She…shewentafterNero.”
“Holdup.”Austinraisedhisfingerslikegoalposts.“WhenyousayNero…”
Ididmybesttoexplainhowthemademperorhadcapturedthem.Theydeservedtoknow.AsI
recountedthestory,Nero’swordskeptreplayinginmymind:Mywreckingcrewwillbehereany
minute.OnceCampHalf-Bloodisdestroyed,I’llmakeitmynewfrontlawn!
Iwantedtothinkthiswasjustbluster.Nerohadalwayslovedthreatsandgrandiosestatements.
Unlikeme,hewasaterriblepoet.Heusedflowerylanguagelike…well,likeeverysentencewasa
pungentbouquetofmetaphors.(Oh,that’sanothergoodone.Jottingthatdown.)
Whyhadhekeptcheckinghiswatch?Andwhatwreckingcrewcouldhehavebeentalkingabout?
Ihadaflashbacktomydreamofthesunbuscareeningtowardagiantbronzeface.
IfeltlikeIwasfree-fallingagain.Nero’splanbecamehorriblyclear.Afterdividingthefew
demigodsdefendingthecamp,hehadmeanttoburnthisgrove.Butthatwasonlypartofhisattack….
“Oh,gods,”Isaid.“TheColossus.”
Thefivedemigodsshifteduneasily.
“WhatColossus?”Kaylaasked.“YoumeantheColossusofRhodes?”
“No,”Isaid.“TheColossusNeronis.”
Cecilscratchedhishead.“TheColossusNeurotic?”
EllisWakefieldsnorted.“You’reaColossusNeurotic,Markowitz.Apollo’stalkingaboutthebig
replicaofNerothatstoodoutsidetheamphitheaterinRome,right?”
“I’mafraidso,”Isaid.“Whilewe’restandinghere,NeroisgoingtotrytodestroyCampHalfBlood.AndtheColossuswillbehiswreckingcrew.”
Mirandaflinched.“Youmeanagiantstatueisabouttostomponcamp?IthoughttheColossuswas
destroyedcenturiesago.”
Ellisfrowned.“Supposedly,sowastheAthenaParthenos.Nowit’ssittingontopofHalf-Blood
Hill.”
Theothers’expressionsturnedgrim.WhenachildofAresmakesavalidpoint,youknowthe
situationisserious.
“SpeakingofAthena…”Austinpickedsomeincendiaryfluffoffhisshoulder.“Won’tthestatue
protectus?Imean,that’swhatshe’stherefor,right?”
“Shewilltry,”Iguessed.“Butyoumustunderstand,theAthenaParthenosdrawsherpowerfrom
herfollowers.Themoredemigodsunderhercare,themoreformidablehermagic.Andrightnow
—”
“Thecampispracticallyempty,”Mirandafinished.
“Notonlythat,”Isaid,“buttheAthenaParthenosisroughlyfortyfeettall.Ifmemoryserves,
Nero’sColossuswasmorethantwicethat.”
Ellisgrunted.“Sothey’renotinthesameweightclass.It’sanunevenmatch.”
CecilMarkowitzstoodalittlestraighter.“Guys…didyoufeelthat?”
IthoughthemightbeplayingoneofhisHermespranks.Thenthegroundshookagain,everso
slightly.Fromsomewhereinthedistancecamearumblingsoundlikeabattleshipscrapingovera
sandbar.
“Pleasetellmethatwasthunder,”Kaylasaid.
Elliscockedhishead,listening.“It’sawarmachine.Abigautomatonwadingashoreabouthalfa
klickfromhere.Weneedtogettocamprightnow.”
NoonearguedwithEllis’sassessment.Isupposedhecoulddistinguishbetweenthesoundsofwar
machinesthesamewayIcouldpickoutanoff-tuneviolininaRachmaninoffsymphony.
Totheircredit,thedemigodsrosetothechallenge.Despitethefactthatthey’dbeenrecently
bound,dousedinflammablesubstances,andstakedlikehumantikitorches,theyclosedranksand
facedmewithdeterminationintheireyes.
“Howdowegetoutofhere?”Austinasked.“Themyrmekes’lair?”
Ifeltsuddenlysuffocated,partlybecauseIhadfivepeoplelookingatmeasifIknewwhattodo.I
didn’t.Infact,ifyouwanttoknowasecret,wegodsusuallydon’t.Whenconfrontedforanswers,we
usuallysaysomethingRhea-like:Youwillhavetofindoutforyourself!OrTruewisdommustbe
earned!ButIdidn’tthinkthatwouldflyinthissituation.
Also,Ihadnodesiretoplungebackintotheants’nest.Evenifwemadeitthroughalive,itwould
takemuchtoolong.Thenwewouldhavetorunperhapshalfthelengthoftheforest.
IstaredattheVince-shapedholeinthecanopy.“Idon’tsupposeanyofyoucanfly?”
Theyshooktheirheads.
“Icancook,”Ceciloffered.
Ellissmackedhimontheshoulder.
Ilookedbackatthemyrmekes’tunnel.Thesolutioncametomelikeavoicewhisperinginmy
ear:Youknowsomeonewhocanfly,stupid.
Itwasariskyidea.Thenagain,rushingofftofightagiantautomatonwasalsonotthesafestplan
ofaction.
“Ithinkthere’saway,”Isaid.“ButI’llneedyourhelp.”
Austinballedhisfists.“Anythingyouneed.We’rereadytofight.”
“Actually…Idon’tneedyoutofight.Ineedyoutolaydownabeat.”
Mynextimportantdiscovery:ChildrenofHermescannotrap.Atall.
Blesshisconnivinglittleheart,CecilMarkowitztriedhisbest,buthekeptthrowingoffmy
rhythmsectionwithhisspasticclappingandterribleairmicnoises.Afterafewtrialruns,Idemoted
himtodancer.Hisjobwouldbetoshimmybackandforthandwavehishands,whichhedidwiththe
enthusiasmofatent-revivalpreacher.
Theothersmanagedtokeepup.Theystilllookedlikehalf-plucked,highlycombustiblechickens,
buttheyboppedwiththeproperamountofsoul.
Ilaunchedinto“Mama,”mythroatreinforcedwithwaterandcoughdropsfromKayla’sbeltpack.
(Ingeniousgirl!Whobringscoughdropsonathree-leggeddeathrace?)
Isangdirectlyintothemouthofthemyrmekes’tunnel,trustingtheacousticstocarrymymessage.
Wedidnothavetowaitlong.Theearthbegantorumblebeneathourfeet.Ikeptsinging.Ihadwarned
mycomradesnottostoplayingdowntherighteousbeatuntilthesongwasover.
Still,Ialmostlostitwhenthegroundexploded.Ihadbeenwatchingthetunnel,butMamadidnot
usetunnels.Sheexitedwherevershewanted—inthiscase,straightoutoftheearthtwentyyardsaway,
sprayingdirt,grass,andsmallbouldersinalldirections.Shescuttledforward,mandiblesclacking,
wingsbuzzing,darkTefloneyesfocusedonme.Herabdomenwasnolongerswollen,soIassumed
shehadfinisheddepositinghermostrecentbatchofkiller-antlarvae.Ihopedthismeantshewouldbe
inagoodmood,notahungrymood.
Behindher,twowingedsoldiersclamberedoutoftheearth.Ihadnotbeenexpectingbonusants.
(Really,bonusantsisnotatermmostpeoplewouldliketohear.)Theyflankedthequeen,their
antennaequivering.
Ifinishedmyode,thendroppedtooneknee,spreadingmyarmsasIhadbefore.
“Mama,”Isaid,“weneedaride.”
Mylogicwasthis:Motherswereusedtogivingrides.Withthousandsuponthousandsof
offspring,Iassumedthequeenantwouldbetheultimatesoccermom.Andindeed,Mamagrabbedme
withhermandiblesandtossedmeoverherhead.
Despitewhatthedemigodsmaytellyou,Ididnotflail,scream,orlandinawaythatdamagedmy
sensitiveparts.Ilandedheroically,straddlingthequeen’sneck,whichwasnolargerthanthebackof
anaveragewarhorse.Ishoutedtomycomrades,“Joinme!It’sperfectlysafe!”
Forsomereason,theyhesitated.Theantsdidnot.ThequeentossedKaylajustbehindme.The
soldierantsfollowedMama’slead—snappinguptwodemigodseachandthrowingthemaboard.
Thethreemyrmekesrevvedtheirwingswithanoiselikeradiatorfanblades.Kaylagrabbedmy
waist.
“Isthisreallysafe?”sheyelled.
“Perfectly!”IhopedIwasright.“Perhapsevensaferthanthesunchariot!”
“Didn’tthesunchariotalmostdestroytheworldonce?”
“Well,twice,”Isaid.“Threetimes,ifyoucountthedayIletThaliaGracedrive,but—”
“ForgetIasked!”
Mamalaunchedherselfintothesky.Thecanopyoftwistedbranchesblockedourpath,butMama
didn’tpayanymoreattentiontothemthanshehadtothetonofsolidearthshe’dplowedthrough.
Iyelled,“Duck!”
WeflattenedourselvesagainstMama’sarmoredheadasshesmashedthroughthetrees,leavinga
thousandwoodensplintersembeddedinmyback.Itfeltsogoodtoflyagain,Ididn’tcare.Wesoared
abovethewoodsandbankedtotheeast.
Fortwoorthreeseconds,Iwasexhilarated.
ThenIheardthescreamingfromCampHalf-Blood.
Buck-nakedstatue
ANeuroticColossus
Whereartthyundies?
EVENMYSUPERNATURALPOWERSofdescriptionfailme.
Imagineseeingyourselfasahundred-foot-tallbronzestatue—areplicaofyourown
magnificence,gleaminginthelateafternoonlight.
NowimaginethatthisridiculouslyhandsomestatueiswadingoutofLongIslandSoundontothe
NorthShore.Inhishandisaship’srudder—abladethesizeofastealthbomber,fixedtoafifty-footlongpole—andMr.GorgeousisraisingsaidruddertosmashthecrudoutofCampHalf-Blood.
Thiswasthesightthatgreetedusasweflewinfromthewoods.
“Howisthatthingalive?”Kaylademanded.“WhatdidNerodo—orderitonline?”
“TheTriumviratehasvastresources,”Itoldher.“They’vehadcenturiestoprepare.Oncethey
reconstructedthestatue,alltheyhadtodowasfillitwithsomeanimatingmagic—usuallythe
harnessedlifeforcesofwindorwaterspirits.I’mnotsure.That’sreallymoreofHephaestus’s
specialty.”
“Sohowdowekillit?”
“I’m…I’mworkingonthat.”
Allacrossthevalley,campersscreamedandranfortheirweapons.NicoandWillwere
flounderinginthelake,apparentlyhavingbeencapsizedinthemiddleofacanoeride.Chiron
gallopedthroughthedunes,harryingtheColossuswithhisarrows.Evenbymystandards,Chiron
wasaveryfinearcher.Hetargetedthestatue’sjointsandseams,yethisshotsdidnotseemtobother
theautomatonatall.AlreadydozensofmissilesstuckfromtheColossus’sarmpitsandnecklike
unrulyhair.
“Morequivers!”Chironshouted.“Quickly!”
RachelDarestumbledfromthearmorycarryinghalfadozen,andsherantoresupplyhim.
TheColossusbroughtdownhisruddertosmashthediningpavilion,buthisbladebouncedoffthe
camp’smagicalbarrier,sparkingasifithadhitsolidmetal.Mr.Gorgeoustookanotherstepinland,
butthebarrierresistedhim,pushinghimbackwiththeforceofawindtunnel.
OnHalf-BloodHill,asilveraurasurroundedtheAthenaParthenos.Iwasn’tsurethedemigods
couldseeit,buteverysooftenabeamofultravioletlightshotfromAthena’shelmetlikeasearch
lamp,hittingtheColossus’schestandpushingbacktheinvader.Nexttoher,inthetallpinetree,the
GoldenFleeceblazedwithfieryenergy.ThedragonPeleushissedandpacedaroundthetrunk,ready
todefendhisturf.
Thesewerepowerfulforces,butIdidnotneedgodlysighttotellmethattheywouldsoonfail.
Thecamp’sdefensivebarriersweredesignedtoturnawaytheoccasionalstraymonster,toconfuse
mortalsandpreventthemfromdetectingthevalley,andtoprovideafirstlineofdefenseagainst
invadingforces.Acriminallybeautifulhundred-foot-tallCelestialbronzegiantwasanotherthing
entirely.SoontheColossuswouldbreakthroughanddestroyeverythinginitspath.
“Apollo!”Kaylanudgedmeintheribs.“Whatdowedo?”
Istirred,againwiththeunpleasantrealizationthatIwasexpectedtohaveanswers.Myfirstinstinct
wastoorderaseasoneddemigodtotakecharge.Wasn’tittheweekendyet?WherewasPercy
Jackson?OrthoseRomanpraetorsFrankZhangandReynaRamírez-Arellano?Yes,theywouldhave
donenicely.
MysecondinstinctwastoturntoMegMcCaffrey.HowquicklyIhadgrownusedtoherannoying
yetstrangelyendearingpresence!Alas,shewasgone.HerabsencefeltlikeaColossusstompingupon
myheart.(Thiswasaneasymetaphortosummon,sincetheColossuswaspresentlystompingona
greatmanythings.)
Flankingusoneitherside,thesoldierantsflewinformation,awaitingthequeen’sorders.The
demigodswatchedmeanxiously,randombitsofbandagefluffswirlingfromtheirbodiesaswesped
throughtheair.
IleanedforwardandspoketoMamainasoothingtone,“IknowIcannotaskyoutoriskyourlife
forus.”
Mamahummedasiftosay,You’redarnright!
“Justgiveusonepassaroundthatstatue’shead?”Iasked.“Enoughtodistractit.Thensetusdown
onthebeach?”
Sheclickedhermandiblesdoubtfully.
“You’rethebestmamainthewholeworld,”Iadded,“andyoulooklovelytoday.”
ThatlinealwaysworkedwithLeto.ItdidthetrickwithMamaAnt,too.Shetwitchedherantennae,
perhapssendingahigh-frequencysignaltohersoldiers,andallthreeantsbankedhardtotheright.
Belowus,morecampersjoinedthebattle.ShermanYanghadharnessedtwopegasitoachariot
andwasnowcirclingthestatue’slegs,whileJuliaandAlicethrewelectricjavelinsattheColossus’s
knees.Themissilesstuckinhisjoints,dischargingtendrilsofbluelightning,butthestatuebarely
seemedtonotice.Meanwhile,athisfeet,ConnorStollandHarleyusedtwinflamethrowerstogivethe
Colossusamoltenpedicure,whiletheNiketwinsmannedacatapult,lobbingbouldersatthe
Colossus’sCelestialbronzecrotch.
MalcolmPace,atruechildofAthena,wascoordinatingtheattacksfromahastilyorganized
commandpostonthegreen.HeandNyssahadspreadwarmapsacrossacardtableandwereshouting
targetingcoordinates,whileChiara,Damien,Paolo,andBillierushedtosetupballistaearoundthe
communalhearth.
Malcolmlookedliketheperfectbattlefieldcommander,exceptforthefactthathe’dforgottenhis
pants.Hisredbriefsmadequiteastatementwithhisswordandleathercuirass.
MamadovetowardtheColossus,leavingmystomachatahigheraltitude.
Ihadamomenttoappreciatethestatue’sregalfeatures,itsmetalbrowrimmedwithaspikycrown
meanttorepresentthebeamsofthesun.TheColossuswassupposedtobeNeroasthesungod,but
theemperorhadwiselymadethefaceresembleminemorecloselythanhis.Onlythelineofitsnose
anditsghastlyneckbeardsuggestedNero’strademarkugliness.
Also…didImentionthatthehundred-footstatuewasentirelynude?Well,ofcourseitwas.Gods
arealmostalwaysdepictedasnude,becauseweareflawlessbeings.Whywouldyoucoverup
perfection?Still,itwasalittledisconcertingtoseemybuck-nakedselfstompingaround,slamminga
ship’srudderatCampHalf-Blood.
AsweapproachedtheColossus,Ibellowedloudly,“IMPOSTER!IAMTHEREALAPOLLO!
YOU’REUGLY!”
Oh,dearreader,itwashardtoyellsuchwordsatmyownhandsomevisage,butIdid.Suchwas
mycourage.
TheColossusdidnotlikebeinginsulted.AsMamaandhersoldiersveeredaway,thestatueswung
itsrudderupward.
Haveyouevercollidedwithabomber?IhadasuddenflashbacktoDresdenin1945,whenthe
planesweresothickintheair,Iliterallycouldnotfindasafelanetodrivein.Theaxleonthesun
chariotwasoutofalignmentforweeksafterthat.
Irealizedtheantswerenotfastenoughflierstoescapetherudder ’sreach.Isawcatastrophe
approachinginslowmotion.Atthelastpossiblemoment,Iyelled,“Dive!”
Weplungedstraightdown.Therudderonlyclippedtheants’wings—butitwasenoughtosendus
spiralingtowardthebeach.
Iwasgratefulforsoftsand.
Iatequiteabitofitwhenwecrash-landed.
Bysheerluck,noneofusdied,thoughKaylaandAustinhadtopullmetomyfeet.
“Areyouokay?”Austinasked.
“Fine,”Isaid.“Wemusthurry.”
TheColossusstareddownatus,perhapstryingtodiscernwhetherweweredyinginagonyyetor
neededsomeadditionalpain.Ihadwantedtogethisattention,andIhadsucceeded.Huzzah.
IglancedatMamaandhersoldiers,whowereshakingthesandofftheircarapaces.“Thankyou.
Nowsaveyourselves.Fly!”
Theydidnotneedtobetoldtwice.Isupposeantshaveanaturalfearoflargehumanoidslooming
overthem,abouttosquashthemwithaheavyfoot.Mamaandherguardsbuzzedintothesky.
Mirandalookedafterthem.“IneverthoughtI’dsaythisaboutbugs,butI’mgoingtomissthose
guys.”
“Hey!”calledNicodiAngelo.HeandWillscrambledoverthedunes,stilldrippingfromtheir
swiminthecanoelake.
“What’stheplan?”Willseemedcalm,butIknewhimwellenoughbynowtotellthatinsidehe
wasaschargedasabareelectricalwire.
BOOM.
Thestatuestrodetowardus.Onemorestep,anditwouldbeontopofus.
“Isn’tthereacontrolvalveonitsankle?”Ellisasked.“Ifwecanopenit—”
“No,”Isaid.“You’rethinkingofTalos.ThisisnotTalos.”
Nicobrushedhisdarkwethairfromhisforehead.“Thenwhat?”
IhadalovelyviewoftheColossus’snose.Itsnostrilsweresealedwithbronze…Isupposed
becauseNerohadn’twantedhisdetractorstryingtoshootarrowsintohisimperialnoggin.
Iyelped.
Kaylagrabbedmyarm.“Apollo,what’swrong?”
ArrowsintotheColossus’shead.Oh,gods,Ihadanideathatwouldnever,everwork.However,it
seemedbetterthanourotheroption,whichwastobecrushedunderatwo-tonbronzefoot.
“Will,Kayla,Austin,”Isaid,“comewithme.”
“AndNico,”saidNico.“Ihaveadoctor ’snote.”
“Fine!”Isaid.“Ellis,Cecil,Miranda—dowhateveryoucantokeeptheColossus’sattention.”
Theshadowofanenormousfootdarkenedthesand.
“Now!”Iyelled.“Scatter!”
Ilovemesomeplague
Whenit’sontherightarrow
Ka-bam!Youdead,bro?
SCATTERINGWASTHEEASYPART.Theydidthatverywell.
Miranda,Cecil,andEllisranindifferentdirections,screaminginsultsattheColossusandwaving
theirarms.Thisboughttherestofusafewsecondsaswesprintedforthedunes,butIsuspectedthe
Colossuswouldsoonenoughcomeafterme.Iwas,afterall,themostimportantandattractivetarget.
IpointedtowardShermanYang’schariot,whichwasstillcirclingthestatue’slegsinavain
attempttoelectrocuteitskneecaps.“Weneedtocommandeerthatchariot!”
“How?”Kaylaasked.
IwasabouttoadmitIhadnoideawhenNicodiAngelograbbedWill’shandandsteppedintomy
shadow.Bothboysevaporated.Ihadforgottenaboutthepowerofshadow-traveling—theway
childrenoftheUnderworldcouldstepintooneshadowandappearfromanother,sometimes
hundredsofmilesaway.Hadesusedtolovesneakinguponmethatwayandyelling,“HI!”justasI
shotanarrowofdeath.HefounditamusingifImissedmytargetandaccidentallywipedoutthe
wrongcity.
Austinshuddered.“IhateitwhenNicodisappearslikethat.What’sourplan?”
“Youtwoaremybackup,”Isaid.“IfImiss,ifIdie…itwillbeuptoyou.”
“Whoa,whoa,”Kaylasaid.“Whatdoyoumeanifyoumiss?”
Idrewmylastarrow—theoneI’dfoundinthegrove.“I’mgoingtoshootthatgorgeous
gargantuanintheear.”
AustinandKaylaexchangedlooks,perhapswonderingifI’dfinallycrackedunderthestrainof
beingmortal.
“Aplaguearrow,”Iexplained.“I’mgoingtoenchantanarrowwithsickness,thenshootitintothe
statue’sear.Itsheadishollow.Theearsaretheonlyopenings.Thearrowshouldreleaseenough
diseasetokilltheColossus’sanimatingpower…oratleasttodisableit.”
“Howdoyouknowitwillwork?”Kaylaasked.
“Idon’t,but—”
OurconversationwasruinedbyasuddenheavydownpourofColossusfoot.Wedartedinland,
barelyavoidingbeingflattened.
Behindus,Mirandashouted,“Hey,ugly!”
Iknewshewasn’ttalkingtome,butIglancedbackanyway.Sheraisedherarms,causingropesof
seagrasstospringfromthedunesandwraparoundthestatue’sankles.TheColossusbrokethrough
themeasily,buttheyannoyedhimenoughtobeadistraction.WatchingMirandafacethestatuemade
meheartsickforMegalloveragain.
Meanwhile,EllisandCecilstoodoneithersideoftheColossus,throwingrocksathisshins.From
thecamp,avolleyofflamingballistaprojectilesexplodedagainstMr.Gorgeous’snakedbackside,
whichmademeclenchinsympathy.
“Youweresaying?”Austinasked.
“Right.”Itwirledthearrowbetweenmyfingers.“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking.Idon’thavegodly
powers.It’sdoubtfulI’llbeabletocookuptheBlackDeathortheSpanishFlu.Butstill,ifIcanmake
theshotfromcloserange,straightintoitshead,Imightbeabletodosomedamage.”
“And…ifyoufail?”Kaylaasked.Inoticedherquiverwasalsoempty.
“Iwon’thavethestrengthtotrytwice.You’llhavetomakeanotherpass.Findanarrow,tryto
summonsomesickness,maketheshotwhileAustinholdsthechariotsteady.”
Irealizedthiswasanimpossiblerequest,buttheyaccepteditwithgrimsilence.Iwasn’tsure
whethertofeelgratefulorguilty.BackwhenIwasagod,Iwould’vetakenitforgrantedthatmortals
hadfaithinme.Now…Iwasaskingmychildrentorisktheirlivesagain,andIwasnotatallsuremy
planwouldwork.
Icaughtaflashofmovementinthesky.Thistime,insteadofaColossusfoot,itwasSherman
Yang’schariot,minusShermanYang.Willbroughtthepegasiinforalanding,thendraggedouta
half-consciousNicodiAngelo.
“Wherearetheothers?”Kaylaasked.“ShermanandtheHermesgirls?”
Willrolledhiseyes.“Nicoconvincedthemtodisembark.”
Asifoncue,IheardShermanscreamingfromsomewherefarinthedistance,“I’llgetyou,di
Angelo!”
“Youguysgo,”Willtoldme.“Thechariotisonlydesignedforthree,andafterthatshadow-travel,
Nicoisgoingtopassoutanysecond.”
“No,I’mnot,”Nicocomplained,thenpassedout.
Willcaughthiminafireman’scarryandtookhimaway.“Goodluck!I’mgoingtogettheLord
ofDarknessheresomeGatorade!”
Austinhoppedinfirstandtookthereins.AssoonasKaylaandIwereaboard,weshotskyward,
thepegasiswervingandbankingaroundtheColossuswithexpertskill.Ibegantofeelaglimmerof
hope.Wemightbeabletooutmaneuverthisgianthunkofgood-lookingbronze.
“Now,”Isaid,“ifIcanjustenchantthisarrowwithaniceplague.”
Thearrowshudderedfromitsfletchingtoitspoint.
THOUSHALTNOT,ittoldme.
Itrytoavoidweaponsthattalk.Ifindthemrudeanddistracting.Once,Artemishadabowthatcould
cusslikeaPhoeniciansailor.Anothertime,inaStockholmtavern,Imetthisgodwhowassmoking
hot,excepthistalkingswordjustwouldnotshutup.
ButIdigress.
Iaskedtheobviousquestion.“Didyoujustspeaktome?”
Thearrowquivered.(Oh,dear.Thatwasahorriblepun.Myapologies.)YEA,VERILY.PRITHEE,
SHOOTINGISNOTMYPURPOSE.
Hisvoicewasdefinitelymale,sonorousandgrave,likeabadShakespeareanactor ’s.
“Butyou’reanarrow,”Isaid.“Shootingyouisthewholepoint.”(Ah,Ireallymustwatchthose
puns.)
“Guys,hangon!”Austinshouted.
ThechariotplungedtoavoidtheColossus’sswingingrudder.WithoutAustin’swarning,Iwould
havebeenleftinmidairstillarguingwithmyprojectile.
“Soyou’remadefromDodonaoak,”Iguessed.“Isthatwhyyoutalk?”
FORSOOTH,saidthearrow.
“Apollo!”Kaylasaid.“I’mnotsurewhyyou’retalkingtothatarrow,but—”
FromourrightcameareverberatingWHANG!likeasnappedpowerlinehittingametalroof.Ina
flashofsilverlight,thecamp’smagicalbarrierscollapsed.TheColossuslurchedforwardand
broughthisfootdownonthediningpavilion,smashingittorubblelikesomanychildren’sblocks.
“Butthatjusthappened,”Kaylasaidwithasigh.
TheColossusraisedhisrudderintriumph.Hemarchedinland,ignoringthecamperswhowere
runningaroundhisfeet.ValentinaDiazlaunchedaballistamissileintohisgroin.(Again,Ihadto
winceinsympathy.)HarleyandConnorStollkeptblowtorchinghisfeet,tonoeffect.Nyssa,
Malcolm,andChironhastilyranatriplineofsteelcableacrossthestatue’spath,buttheywouldnever
havetimetoanchoritproperly.
IturnedtoKayla.“Youcan’thearthisarrowtalking?”
Judgingfromherwideeyes,Iguessedtheanswerwas,No,anddoeshallucinatingruninthe
family?
“Nevermind.”Ilookedatthearrow.“Whatwouldyousuggest,OWiseMissileofDodona?My
quiverisempty.”
Thearrow’spointdippedtowardthestatue’sleftarm.LO,THEARMPITDOTHHOLDTHE
ARROWSTHOUNEEDEST!
Kaylayelled,“Colossusisheadingforthecabins!”
“Armpit!”ItoldAustin.“Flieth—er,flyforthearmpit!”
Thatwasn’tanorderoneheardmuchincombat,butAustinspurredthepegasiintoasteepascent.
WebuzzedtheforestofarrowsstickingoutoftheColossus’sarmseam,butIcompletely
overestimatedmymortalhand-eyecoordination.Ilungedfortheshaftsandcameupempty.
Kaylawasmoreagile.Shesnaggedafistfulbutscreamedwhensheyankedthemfree.
Ipulledhertosafety.Herhandwasbleedingbadly,cutfromthehigh-speedgrab.
“I’mfine!”Kaylayelped.Herfingerswereclenched,splatteringdropsofredalloverthe
chariot’sfloor.“Takethearrows.”
Idid.ItuggedtheBrazilian-flagbandanafromaroundmyneckandgaveittoher.“Bindyour
hand,”Iordered.“There’ssomeambrosiainmycoatpocket.”
“Don’tworryaboutme.”Kayla’sfacewasasgreenasherhair.“Maketheshot!Hurry!”
Iinspectedthearrows.Myheartsank.Onlyoneofthemissileswasunbroken,anditsshaftwas
warped.Itwouldbealmostimpossibletoshoot.
Ilookedagainatthetalkingarrow.
THOUSHALTNOTTHINKESTABOUTIT,heintoned.ENCHANTTHOUTHEWARPEDARROW!
Itried.Iopenedmymouth,buttheproperwordsofenchantmentweregonefrommymind.AsI
feared,LesterPapadopoulossimplydidnotpossessthepower.“Ican’t!”
ISHALTASSIST,promisedtheArrowofDodona.STARTESTTHOU:“PLAGUEY,PLAGUEY,
PLAGUEY.”
“Theenchantmentdoesnotstartplaguey,plaguey,plaguey!”
“Whoareyoutalkingto?”Austindemanded.
“Myarrow!I—Ineedmoretime.”
“Wedon’thavemoretime!”Kaylapointedwithherwrappedbloodyhand.
TheColossuswasonlyafewstepsawayfromthecentralgreen.Iwasn’tsurethedemigodseven
realizedhowmuchdangertheywerein.TheColossuscoulddomuchmorethanjustflattenbuildings.
Ifhedestroyedthecentralhearth,thesacredshrineofHestia,hewouldextinguishtheverysoulofthe
camp.Thevalleywouldbecursedanduninhabitableforgenerations.CampHalf-Bloodwouldcease
toexist.
IrealizedIhadfailed.Myplanwouldtakemuchtoolong,ifIcouldevenrememberhowtomakea
plaguearrow.ThiswasmypunishmentforbreakinganoathontheRiverStyx.
Then,fromsomewhereaboveus,avoiceyelled,“Hey,BronzeButt!”
OvertheColossus’shead,acloudofdarknessformedlikeacartoondialoguebubble.Outofthe
shadowsdroppedafurryblackmonsterdog—ahellhound—andastridehisbackwasayoungman
withaglowingbronzesword.
Theweekendwashere.PercyJacksonhadarrived.
Hey,look!It’sPercy
Leasthecoulddowashelpout
Taughthimeverything
IWASTOOSURPRISEDTOSPEAK.OtherwiseIwouldhavewarnedPercywhatwasaboutto
happen.
Hellhoundsarenotfondofheights.Whenstartled,theyrespondinapredictableway.Themoment
Percy’sfaithfulpetlandedontopofthemovingColossus,sheyelpedandproceededtowee-weeon
saidColossus’shead.Thestatuefrozeandlookedup,nodoubtwonderingwhatwastricklingdown
hisimperialsideburns.
Percyleapedheroicallyfromhismountandslippedinhellhoundpee.Henearlyslidoffthe
statue’sbrow.“Whatthe—Mrs.O’Leary,jeez!”
Thehellhoundbayedinapology.Austinflewourchariottowithinshoutingdistance.“Percy!”
ThesonofPoseidonfrownedacrossatus.“Allright,whounleashedthegiantbronzeguy?
Apollo,didyoudothis?”
“Iamoffended!”Icried.“Iamonlyindirectlyresponsibleforthis!Also,Ihaveaplantofixit.”
“Oh,yeah?”Percyglancedbackatthedestroyeddiningpavilion.“How’sthatgoing?”
Withmyusuallevelheadedness,Istayedfocusedonthegreatergood.“Ifyoucouldpleasejust
keepthisColossusfromstompingthecamp’shearth,thatwouldbehelpful.Ineedafewmoreminutes
toenchantthisarrow.”
Iheldupthetalkingarrowbymistake,thenheldupthebentarrow.
Percysighed.“Ofcourseyoudo.”
Mrs.O’Learybarkedinalarm.TheColossuswasraisinghishandtoswatthetrespassingtinkler.
Percygrabbedoneofthecrown’ssunrayspikes.Hesliceditoffatthebase,thenjabbeditintothe
Colossus’sforehead.IdoubtedtheColossuscouldfeelpain,butitstaggered,apparentlysurprisedto
suddenlyhavegrownaunicornhorn.
Percyslicedoffanotherone.“Hey,ugly!”hecalleddown.“Youdon’tneedallthesepointythings,
doyou?I’mgoingtotakeonetothebeach.Mrs.O’Leary,fetch!”
Percytossedthespikelikeajavelin.
Thehellhoundbarkedexcitedly.SheleapedofftheColossus’shead,vaporizedintoshadow,and
reappearedontheground,boundingafterhernewbronzestick.
Percyraisedhiseyebrowsatme.“Well?Startenchanting!”
Hejumpedfromthestatue’sheadtoitsshoulder.Thenheleapedtotheshaftoftherudderandslid
downitlikeafirepoleallthewaytotheground.IfIhadbeenatmyusuallevelofgodlyathleticskill,
Icould’vedonesomethinglikethatinmysleep,ofcourse,butIhadtoadmitPercyJacksonwas
moderatelyimpressive.
“Hey,BronzeButt!”heyelledagain.“Comegetme!”
TheColossusobliged,slowlyturningandfollowingPercytowardthebeach.
Ibegantochant,invokingmyoldpowersasthegodofplagues.Thistime,thewordscametome.
Ididn’tknowwhy.PerhapsPercy’sarrivalhadgivenmenewfaith.PerhapsIsimplydidn’tthink
aboutittoomuch.I’vefoundthatthinkingofteninterfereswithdoing.It’soneofthoselessonsthat
godslearnearlyintheircareers.
Ifeltanitchysensationofsicknesscurlingfrommyfingersandintotheprojectile.Ispokeofmy
ownawesomenessandthevarioushorriblediseasesIhadvisiteduponwickedpopulationsinthepast,
because…well,I’mawesome.Icouldfeelthemagictakinghold,despitetheArrowofDodona
whisperingtomelikeanannoyingElizabethanstagehand,SAYESTTHOU:“PLAGUEY,PLAGUEY,
PLAGUEY!”
Below,moredemigodsjoinedtheparadetothebeach.TheyranaheadoftheColossus,jeeringat
him,throwingthings,andcallinghimBronzeButt.Theymadejokesabouthisnewhorn.They
laughedatthehellhoundpeetricklingdownhisface.NormallyIhavezerotoleranceforbullying,
especiallywhenthevictimlookslikeme,butsincetheColossuswastenstoriestallanddestroying
theircamp,Isupposethecampers’rudenesswasunderstandable.
Ifinishedchanting.Odiousgreenmistnowwreathedthearrow.Itsmelledfaintlyoffast-food
deepfryers—agoodsignthatitcarriedsomesortofhorriblemalady.
“I’mready!”ItoldAustin.“Getmenexttoitsear!”
“Yougotit!”Austinturnedtosaysomethingelse,andawispofgreenfogpassedunderhisnose.
Hiseyeswatered.Hisnoseswelledandbegantorun.Hescruncheduphisfaceandsneezedsohardhe
collapsed.Helayonthefloorofthechariot,groaningandtwitching.
“Myboy!”Iwantedtograbhisshouldersandcheckonhim,butsinceIhadanarrowineachhand,
thatwasinadvisable.
FIE!TOOSTRONGISTHYPLAGUE.TheDodonaarrowhummedwithannoyance.THY
CHANTINGSUCKETH.
“Oh,no,no,no,”Isaid.“Kayla,becareful.Don’tbreathe—”
“ACHOO!”Kaylacrumplednexttoherbrother.
“WhathaveIdone?”Iwailed.
METHINKSTHOUHASTBLOWNIT,saidtheDodonaarrow,mysourceofinfinitewisdom.
MOREO’ER,HIE!TAKESTTHOUTHEREINS.
“Why?”
Youwouldthinkagodwhodroveachariotonadailybasiswouldnotneedtoasksuchaquestion.
Inmydefense,Iwasdistraughtaboutmychildrenlyinghalf-consciousatmyfeet.Ididn’tconsider
thatnoonewasdriving.Withoutanyoneatthereins,thepegasipanicked.Toavoidrunningintothe
hugebronzeColossusdirectlyintheirpath,theydovetowardtheearth.
Somehow,Imanagedtoreactappropriately.(Threecheersforreactingappropriately!)Ithrust
botharrowsintomyquiver,grabbedthereins,andmanagedtolevelourdescentjustenoughto
preventacrashlanding.WebouncedoffaduneandswervedtoastopinfrontofChironandagroup
ofdemigods.Ourentrancemighthavelookeddramaticifthecentrifugalforcehadn’tthrownKayla,
Austin,andmefromthechariot.
DidImentionIwasgratefulforsoftsand?
Thepegasitookoff,draggingthebatteredchariotintotheskyandleavingusstranded.
Chirongallopedtoourside,aclusterofdemigodsinhiswake.PercyJacksonrantowardusfrom
thesurfwhileMrs.O’LearykepttheColossusoccupiedwithagameofkeep-away.Idoubtthatwould
holdthestatue’sinterestverylong,onceherealizedtherewasagroupoftargetsrightbehindhim,
justperfectforstomping.
“Theplaguearrowisready!”Iannounced.“WeneedtoshootitintotheColossus’sear!”
Myaudiencedidnotseemtotakethisasgoodnews.ThenIrealizedmychariotwasgone.My
bowwasstillinthechariot.AndKaylaandAustinwerequiteobviouslyinfectedwithwhatever
diseaseIhadconjuredup.
“Aretheycontagious?”Cecilasked.
“No!”Isaid.“Well…probablynot.It’sthefumesfromthearrow—”
Everyonebackedawayfromme.
“Cecil,”Chironsaid,“youandHarleytakeKaylaandAustintotheApollocabinforhealing.”
“ButtheyaretheApollocabin,”Harleycomplained.“Besides,myflamethrower—”
“Youcanplaywithyourflamethrowerlater,”Chironpromised.“Runalong.There’sagoodboy.
Therestofyou,dowhatyoucantokeeptheColossusatthewater ’sedge.PercyandIwillassist
Apollo.”
Chironsaidthewordassistasifitmeantslapupsidetheheadwithextremeprejudice.
Oncethecrowdhaddispersed,Chirongavemehisbow.“Maketheshot.”
Istaredatthemassivecompositerecursive,whichprobablyhadadrawweightofahundred
pounds.“Thisismeantforthestrengthofacentaur,notateenmortal!”
“Youcreatedthearrow,”hesaid.“Onlyyoucanshootitwithoutsuccumbingtothedisease.Only
youcanhitsuchatarget.”
“Fromhere?It’simpossible!Whereisthatflyingboy,JasonGrace?”
Percywipedthesweatandsandfromhisneck.“We’refreshoutofflyingboys.Andallthepegasi
havestampeded.”
“Perhapsifwegotsomeharpiesandsomekitestring…”Isaid.
“Apollo,”Chironsaid,“youmustdothis.Youarethelordofarcheryandillness.”
“I’mnotlordofanything!”Iwailed.“I’mastupiduglymortalteenager!I’mnobody!”
Theself-pityjustcamepouringout.IthoughtforsuretheearthwouldsplitintwowhenIcalled
myselfanobody.Thecosmoswouldstopturning.PercyandChironwouldrushtoreassureme.
Noneofthathappened.PercyandChironjuststaredatmegrimly.
Percyputhishandonmyshoulder.“You’reApollo.Weneedyou.Youcandothis.Besides,ifyou
don’t,IwillpersonallythrowyouoffthetopoftheEmpireStateBuilding.”
ThiswasexactlythepeptalkIneeded—justthesortofthingZeususedtosaytomebeforemy
soccermatches.Isquaredmyshoulders.“Right.”
“We’lltrytodrawhimintothewater,”Percysaid.“I’vegottheadvantagethere.Goodluck.”
PercyacceptedChiron’shandandleapedontothecentaur ’sback.Togethertheygallopedintothe
surf,Percywavinghisswordandcallingoutvariousbronze-butt-themedinsultstotheColossus.
IrandownthebeachuntilIhadalineofsightonthestatue’sleftear.
Lookingupatthatregalprofile,IdidnotseeNero.Isawmyself—amonumenttomyown
conceit.Nero’spridewasnomorethanareflectionofmine.Iwasthebiggerfool.Iwasexactlythe
sortofpersonwhowouldconstructahundred-foot-tallnakedstatueofmyselfinmyfrontyard.
Ipulledtheplaguearrowfrommyquiverandnockeditinthebowstring.
Thedemigodsweregettingverygoodatscattering.TheycontinuedtoharrytheColossusfromboth
sideswhilePercyandChirongallopedthroughthetide,Mrs.O’Learyrompingattheirheelswithher
newbronzestick.
“Yo,ugly!”Percyshouted.“Overhere!”
TheColossus’snextstepdisplacedseveraltonsofsaltwaterandmadeacraterlargeenoughto
swallowapickuptruck.
TheArrowofDodonarattledinmyquiver.RELEASETHYBREATH,headvised.DROPETHTHY
SHOULDER.
“Ihaveshotabowbefore,”Igrumbled.
MINDETHTHYRIGHTELBOW,thearrowsaid.
“Shutup.”
ANDTELLESTNOTTHINEARROWTOSHUTUP.
Idrewthebow.Mymusclesburnedasifboilingwaterwasbeingpouredovermyshoulders.The
plaguearrowdidnotmakemepassout,butitsfumesweredisorienting.Thewarpoftheshaftmade
mycalculationsimpossible.Thewindwasagainstme.Thearcoftheshotwouldbemuchtoohigh.
YetIaimed,exhaled,andreleasedthebowstring.
Thearrowtwirledasitrocketedupward,losingforceanddriftingtoofartotheright.Myheart
sank.SurelythecurseoftheRiverStyxwoulddenymeanychanceatsuccess.
Justastheprojectilereacheditsapexandwasabouttofallbacktoearth,agustofwindcaught
it…perhapsZephyroslookingkindlyonmypitifulattempt.ThearrowsailedintotheColossus’sear
canalandrattledinhisheadwithaclink,clink,clinklikeapachinkomachine.
TheColossushalted.Hestaredatthehorizonasifconfused.Helookedatthesky,thenarchedhis
backandlurchedforward,makingasoundlikeatornadorippingofftheroofofawarehouse.
Becausehisfacehadnootheropenorifices,thepressureofhissneezeforcedgeysersofmotoroil
outhisears,sprayingtheduneswithenvironmentallyunfriendlysludge.
Sherman,Julia,andAlicestumbledovertome,coveredheadtotoewithsandandoil.
“IappreciateyoufreeingMirandaandEllis,”Shermansnarled,“butI’mgoingtokillyoulater
fortakingmychariot.WhatdidyoudotothatColossus?Whatkindofplaguemakesyousneeze?”
“I’mafraidI—Isummonedaratherbenignillness.IbelieveIhavegiventheColossusacaseof
hayfever.”
Youknowthathorriblepausewhenyou’rewaitingforsomeonetosneeze?Thestatuearchedhis
backagain,andeveryoneonthebeachcringedinanticipation.TheColossusinhaledseveralcubic
acresofairthroughhisearcanals,preparingforhisnextblast.
Iimaginedthenightmarescenarios:TheColossuswouldear-sneezePercyJacksoninto
Connecticut,nevertobeseenagain.TheColossuswouldclearhisheadandthenstompallofusflat.
Hayfevercouldmakeapersoncranky.IknewthisbecauseIinventedhayfever.Still,Ihadnever
intendedittobeakillingaffliction.Icertainlyneveranticipatedfacingthewrathofatoweringmetal
automatonwithextremeseasonalallergies.Icursedmyshortsightedness!Icursedmymortality!
WhatIhadnotconsideredwasthedamageourdemigodshadalreadydonetotheColossus’s
metaljoints—inparticular,hisneck.
TheColossusrockedforwardwithamightyCHOOOOO!Iflinchedandalmostmissedthe
momentoftruthwhenthestatue’sheadachievedfirst-stageseparationfromhisbody.Ithurtledover
LongIslandSound,thefacespinninginandoutofview.IthitthewaterwithamightyWHOOSHand
bobbedforamoment.Thentheairbloopedoutofitsneckholeandthegorgeousregalvisageof
yourstrulysankbeneaththewaves.
Thestatue’sdecapitatedbodytiltedandswayed.Ifithadfallenbackward,itmighthavecrushed
evenmoreofthecamp.Instead,ittoppledforward.Percyyelpedacursethatwouldhavemadeany
Phoeniciansailorproud.ChironandheracedsidewaystoavoidbeingcrushedwhileMrs.O’Leary
wiselydissolvedintoshadows.TheColossushitthewater,sendingforty-foottidalwavestoportand
starboard.Ihadneverbeforeseenacentaurhanghoovesonatubularcrest,butChironacquitted
himselfwell.
Theroarofthestatue’sfallfinallystoppedechoingoffthehills.
Nexttome,AliceMiyazawawhistled.“Well,thatde-escalatedquickly.”
ShermanYangaskedinavoiceofchildlikewonder:“WhattheHadesjusthappened?”
“Ibelieve,”Isaid,“theColossussneezedhisheadoff.”
Afterthesneezing
Healingpeeps,parsinglimericks
WorstGodAward?Me
THEPLAGUESPREAD.
Thatwasthepriceofourvictory:amassiveoutbreakofhayfever.Bynightfall,mostofthe
campersweredizzy,groggy,andheavilycongested,thoughIwaspleasedthatnoneofthemsneezed
theirheadsoff,becausewewererunninglowonbandagesandducttape.
WillSolaceandIspenttheeveningcaringforthewounded.Willtookthelead,whichwasfine
withme;Iwasexhausted.MostlyIsplintedarms,distributedcoldmedicineandtissues,andtriedto
keepHarleyfromstealingtheinfirmary’sentiresupplyofsmiley-facestickers,whichheplasteredall
overhisflamethrower.Iwasgratefulforthedistraction,sinceitkeptmefromthinkingtoomuch
abouttheday’spainfulevents.
ShermanYanggraciouslyagreednottokillNicofortossinghimoutofhischariot,ormefor
damagingit,thoughIhadthefeelingthesonofAreswaskeepinghisoptionsopenforlater.
Chironprovidedhealingpoulticesforthemostextremecasesofhayfever.ThisincludedChiara
Benvenuti,whosegoodluckhad,foronce,abandonedher.Strangelyenough,DamienWhitegotsick
rightafterhelearnedthatChiarawassick.Thetwohadcotsnexttoeachotherintheinfirmary,which
Ifoundalittlesuspicious,eventhoughtheykeptsnipingateachotherwhenevertheyknewtheywere
beingwatched.
PercyJacksonspentseveralhoursrecruitingwhalesandhippocampitohelphimhaulawaythe
Colossus.HedecideditwouldbeeasiesttotowitunderwatertoPoseidon’spalace,whereitcouldbe
repurposedasgardenstatuary.IwasnotsurehowIfeltaboutthat.IimaginedPoseidonwouldreplace
thestatue’sgorgeousfacewithhisownweathered,beardedmien.Still,IwantedtheColossusgone,
andIdoubteditwouldhavefitinthecamp’srecyclingbins.
ThankstoWill’shealingandahotdinner,thedemigodsIhadrescuedfromthewoodsquicklygot
backtofullstrength.(PaoloclaimeditwasbecausehewavedaBrazilian-flagbandanaoverthem,and
Iwasnotabouttoargue.)
Asforthecampitself,thedamagemighthavebeenmuchworse.Thecanoedockcouldberebuilt.
TheColossus’sfootstepcraterscouldberepurposedasconvenientfoxholesorkoiponds.
Thediningpavilionwasatotalloss,butNyssaandHarleywereconfidentthatAnnabethChase
couldredesigntheplacenexttimeshewashere.Withluck,itwouldberebuiltintimeforthesummer.
TheonlyothermajordamagewastotheDemetercabin.Ihadnotrealizeditduringthebattle,but
theColossushadmanagedtosteponitbeforeturningaroundforthebeach.Inretrospect,itspathof
destructionappearedalmostpurposeful,asiftheautomatonhadwadedashore,stompedCabinFour,
andheadedbackouttosea.
GivenwhathadhappenedwithMegMcCaffrey,Ihadahardtimenotseeingthisasabadomen.
MirandaGardinerandBillieNgweregiventemporarybunksintheHermescabin,butforalongtime
thatnighttheysatstunnedamongthesmashedruinsasdaisiespoppedupallaroundthemfromthe
coldwinterground.
Despitemyexhaustion,Isleptfitfully.IdidnotmindKaylaandAustin’sconstantsneezing,or
Will’sgentlesnoring.Ididnotevenmindthehyacinthsbloominginthewindowsill,fillingtheroom
withtheirmelancholyperfume.ButIcouldnotstopthinkingofthedryadsraisingtheirarmstothe
flamesinthewoods,andaboutNero,andMeg.TheArrowofDodonastayedsilent,hanginginmy
quiveronthewall,butIsuspecteditwouldhavemoreannoyingShakespeareanadvicesoon.Ididnot
relishwhatitmighttellethmeaboutmyfuture.
Atsunrise,Irosequietly,tookmybowandquiverandcombatukulele,andhikedtothesummitof
Half-BloodHill.Theguardiandragon,Peleus,didnotrecognizeme.WhenIcametooclosetothe
GoldenFleece,hehissed,soIhadtositsomedistanceawayatthefootoftheAthenaParthenos.
Ididn’tmindnotbeingrecognized.Atthemoment,IdidnotwanttobeApollo.Allthedestruction
Isawbelowme…itwasmyfault.Ihadbeenblindandcomplacent.Ihadallowedtheemperorsof
Rome,includingoneofmyowndescendants,torisetopowerintheshadows.Ihadletmyonce-great
networkofOraclescollapseuntilevenDelphiwaslost.IhadalmostcausedthedeathofCampHalfBlooditself.
AndMegMcCaffrey…Oh,Meg,wherewereyou?
Dowhatyouneedtodo,shehadtoldme.That’smyfinalorder.
Herorderhadbeenvagueenoughtoallowmetopursueher.Afterall,wewereboundtogether
now.WhatIneededtodowastofindher.IwonderedifMeghadphrasedherorderthatwayon
purpose,orifthatwasjustwishfulthinkingonmypart.
IgazedupattheserenealabasterfaceofAthena.Inreallife,shedidn’tlooksopaleandaloof—
well,notmostofthetime,anyway.Iponderedwhythesculptor,Phidias,hadchosentomakeherlook
sounapproachable,andwhetherAthenaapproved.Wegodsoftendebatedhowmuchhumanscould
changeourverynaturesimplybythewaytheypicturedusorimaginedus.Duringtheeighteenth
century,forinstance,Icouldnotescapethewhitepowderedwig,nomatterhowhardItried.Among
immortals,ourrelianceonhumanswasanuncomfortablesubject.
PerhapsIdeservedmypresentform.Aftermycarelessnessandfoolishness,perhapshumanity
shouldseemeasnothingbutLesterPapadopoulos.
Iheavedasigh.“Athena,whatwouldyoudoinmyplace?Somethingwiseandpractical,I
suppose.”
Athenaofferednoresponse.Shestaredcalmlyatthehorizon,takingthelongview,asalways.
Ididn’tneedthewisdomgoddesstotellmewhatImustdo.IshouldleaveCampHalf-Blood
immediately,beforethecamperswoke.Theyhadtakenmeintoprotectme,andIhadnearlygotten
themallkilled.Icouldn’tbeartoendangerthemanylonger.
But,oh,howIwantedtostaywithWill,Kayla,Austin—mymortalchildren.Iwantedtohelp
Harleyputsmileyfacesonhisflamethrower.IwantedtoflirtwithChiaraandstealherawayfrom
Damien…orperhapsstealDamienawayfromChiara,Iwasn’tsureyet.Iwantedtoimprovemy
musicandarcherythroughthatstrangeactivityknownaspractice.Iwantedtohaveahome.
Leave,Itoldmyself.Hurry.
BecauseIwasacoward,Iwaitedtoolong.Belowme,thecabinlightsflickeredon.Campers
emergedfromtheirdoorways.ShermanYangbeganhismorningstretches.Harleyjoggedaroundthe
green,holdinghisLeoValdezbeaconhighwiththehopeitwouldfinallywork.
Atlast,apairoffamiliarfiguresspottedme.Theyapproachedfromdifferentdirections—theBig
HouseandCabinThree—hikingupthehilltoseeme:RachelDareandPercyJackson.
“Iknowwhatyou’rethinking,”Rachelsaid.“Don’tdoit.”
Ifeignedsurprise.“Canyoureadmymind,MissDare?”
“Idon’tneedto.Iknowyou,LordApollo.”
Aweekago,theideawouldhavemademelaugh.Amortalcouldnotknowme.Ihadlivedforfour
millennia.Merelylookinguponmytrueformwouldhavevaporizedanyhuman.Now,though,
Rachel’swordsseemedperfectlyreasonable.WithLesterPapadopoulos,whatyousawwaswhatyou
got.Therereallywasn’tmuchtoknow.
“Don’tcallmeLord,”Isighed.“Iamjustamortalteen.Idonotbelongatthiscamp.”
Percysatnexttome.Hesquintedatthesunrise,theseabreezetouslinghishair.“Yeah,Iusedto
thinkIdidn’tbelonghereeither.”
“It’snotthesame,”Isaid.“Youhumanschangeandgrowandmature.Godsdonot.”
Percyfacedme.“Yousureaboutthat?Youseemprettydifferent.”
Ithinkhemeantthatasacompliment,butIdidn’tfindhiswordsreassuring.IfIwasbecoming
morefullyhuman,thatwashardlyacauseforcelebration.True,Ihadmusteredafewgodlypowers
atimportantmoments—aburstofdivinestrengthagainsttheGermani,ahayfeverarrowagainstthe
Colossus—butIcouldnotrelyonthoseabilities.Ididn’tevenunderstandhowIhadsummonedthem.
ThefactthatIhadlimits,andthatIcouldn’tbesurewherethoselimitswere…Well,thatmademefeel
muchmorelikeLesterPapadopoulosthanApollo.
“TheotherOraclesmustbefoundandsecured,”Isaid.“IcannotdothatunlessIleaveCampHalfBlood.AndIcannotriskanyoneelse’slife.”
Rachelsatonmyotherside.“Yousoundcertain.Didyougetaprophecyfromthegrove?”
Ishuddered.“Ifearso.”
Rachelcuppedherhandsonherknees.“Kaylasaidyouweretalkingtoanarrowyesterday.I’m
guessingit’swoodfromDodona?”
“Wait,”Percysaid.“Youfoundatalkingarrowthatgaveyouaprophecy?”
“Don’tbesilly,”Isaid.“Thearrowtalks,butIgottheprophecyfromthegroveitself.TheArrow
ofDodonajustgivesrandomadvice.He’squiteannoying.”
Thearrowbuzzedinmyquiver.
“Atanyrate,”Icontinued,“Imustleavethecamp.TheTriumviratemeanstopossessallthe
ancientOracles.Ihavetostopthem.OnceIhavedefeatedtheformeremperors…onlythenwillIbe
abletofacemyoldenemyPythonandfreetheOracleofDelphi.Afterthat…ifIsurvive…perhaps
ZeuswillrestoremetoOlympus.”
Racheltuggedatastrandofherhair.“Youknowit’stoodangeroustodoallthatalone,right?”
“Listentoher,”Percyurged.“ChirontoldmeaboutNeroandthisweirdholdingcompanyofhis.”
“Iappreciatetheofferofassistance,but—”
“Whoa.”Percyhelduphishands.“Justtobeclear,I’mnotofferingtogowithyou.Istillhaveto
finishmysenioryear,passmyDSTOMPandmySAT,andavoidgettingkilledbymygirlfriend.But
I’msurewecangetyousomeotherhelpers.”
“I’llgo,”Rachelsaid.
Ishookmyhead.“Myenemieswouldlovetocapturesomeoneasdeartomeasthepriestessof
Delphi.Besides,IneedyouandMirandaGardinertostayhereandstudytheGroveofDodona.For
now,itisouronlysourceofprophecy.Andsinceourcommunicationproblemshavenotgoneaway,
learningtousethegrove’spowerisallthemorecritical.”
Racheltriedtohideit,butIcouldseeherdisappointmentinthelinesaroundhermouth.“What
aboutMeg?”sheasked.“You’lltrytofindher,won’tyou?”
ShemightaswellhaveplungedtheArrowofDodonaintomychest.Igazedatthewoods—that
hazygreenexpansethathadswallowedyoungMcCaffrey.Forabriefmoment,IfeltlikeNero.I
wantedtoburnthewholeplacedown.
“Iwilltry,”Isaid,“butMegdoesn’twanttobefound.She’sundertheinfluenceofherstepfather.”
PercytracedhisfingeracrosstheAthenaParthenos’sbigtoe.“I’velosttoomanypeopletobad
influence:EthanNakamura,LukeCastellan…WealmostlostNico,too….”Heshookhishead.“No.
Nomore.Youcan’tgiveuponMeg.Youguysareboundtogether.Besides,she’soneofthegood
guys.”
“I’veknownmanyofthegoodguys,”Isaid.“Mostofthemgotturnedintobeasts,orstatues,or—
ortrees….”Myvoicebroke.
Rachelputherhandovermine.“Thingscanturnoutdifferently,Apollo.That’sthenicething
aboutbeinghuman.Weonlyhaveonelife,butwecanchoosewhatkindofstoryit’sgoingtobe.”
Thatseemedhopelesslyoptimistic.Ihadspenttoomanycenturieswatchingthesamepatternsof
behaviorberepeatedoverandover,allbyhumanswhothoughttheywerebeingterriblycleverand
doingsomethingthathadneverbeendonebefore.Theythoughttheywerecraftingtheirownstories,
buttheywereonlytracingoverthesameoldnarratives,generationaftergeneration.
Still…perhapshumanpersistencewasanasset.Theyneverseemedtogiveuphope.Everyso
oftentheydidmanagetosurpriseme.IneveranticipatedAlexandertheGreat,RobinHood,orBillie
Holiday.Forthatmatter,IneveranticipatedPercyJacksonandRachelElizabethDare.
“I—Ihopeyou’reright,”Isaid.
Shepattedmyhand.“Tellmetheprophecyyouheardinthegrove.”
Itookashakybreath.Ididn’twanttospeakthewords.Iwasafraidtheymightwakethegroveand
drownusinacacophonyofprophecies,badjokes,andinfomercials.ButIrecitedthelines:
hereoncewasagodnamedApollo
hoplungedinacaveblueandhollow
ponathree-seater
ebronzefire-eater
asforceddeathandmadnesstoswallow”
Rachelcoveredhermouth.“Alimerick?”
“Iknow!”Iwailed.“I’mdoomed!”
“Wait.”Percy’seyesglittered.“Thoselines…DotheymeanwhatIthink?”
“Well,”Isaid,“IbelievethebluecavereferstotheOracleofTrophonius.Itwasa…avery
dangerousancientOracle.”
“No,”Percysaid.“Theotherlines.Three-seater,bronzefire-eater,yaddayadda.”
“Oh.Ihavenoclueaboutthose.”
“Harley’sbeacon.”Percylaughed,thoughIcouldnotunderstandwhyhewassopleased.“Hesaid
yougaveitatuningadjustment?Iguessthatdidthetrick.”
Rachelsquintedathim.“Percy,whatareyou…”Herexpressionwentslack.“Oh.Oh.”
“Werethereanyotherlines?”Percyurged.“Like,exceptforthelimerick?”
“Several,”Iadmitted.“JustbitsandpiecesIdidn’tunderstand.Thefallofthesun;thefinalverse.
Um,Indiana,banana.Happinessapproaches.Somethingaboutpagesburning.”
Percyslappedhisknee.“Thereyougo.Happinessapproaches.Happyisaname—well,the
Englishversion,anyway.”Hestoodandscannedthehorizon.Hiseyesfixedonsomethinginthe
distance.Agrinspreadacrosshisface.“Yep.Apollo,yourescortisontheway.”
Ifollowedhisgaze.Spiralingdownfromthecloudswasalargewingedcreaturethatglintedof
Celestialbronze.Onitsbackweretwohuman-sizefigures.
Theirdescentwassilent,butinmymindajoyousfanfareofValdezinatormusicproclaimedthe
goodnews.
Leohadreturned.
WanttohitLeo?
Thatisunderstandable
HunkMuffinearnedit
THEDEMIGODSHADTOTAKENUMBERS.
Nicocommandeeredadispenserfromthesnackbarandcarrieditaround,yelling,“Theline
startstotheleft!Orderlyqueue,guys!”
“Isthisreallynecessary?”Leoasked.
“Yes,”saidMirandaGardiner,whohaddrawnthefirstnumber.ShepunchedLeointhearm.
“Ow,”saidLeo.
“You’reajerk,andweallhateyou,”saidMiranda.Thenshehuggedhimandkissedhischeek.“If
youeverdisappearlikethatagain,we’lllineuptokillyou.”
“Okay,okay!”
Mirandahadtomoveon,becausethelinewasgettingprettylongbehindher.PercyandIsatatthe
picnictablewithLeoandhiscompanion—noneotherthantheimmortalsorceressCalypso.Even
thoughLeowastheonegettingpunchedbyeveryoneincamp,Iwasreasonablysurehewastheleast
uncomfortableoneatthetable.
Whentheyfirstsaweachother,PercyandCalypsohadhuggedawkwardly.Ihadn’twitnessedsuch
atensegreetingsincePatroclusmetAchilles’swarprize,Briseis.(Longstory.Juicygossip.Askme
later.)Calypsohadneverlikedme,soshepointedlyignoredme,butIkeptwaitingforhertoyell
“BOO!”andturnmeintoatreefrog.Thesuspensewaskillingme.
PercyhuggedLeoanddidn’tevenpunchhim.Still,thesonofPoseidonlookeddisgruntled.
“Ican’tbelieveit,”hesaid.“Sixmonths—”
“Itoldyou,”Leosaid.“Wetriedsendingmoreholographicscrolls.WetriedIrismessages,dream
visions,phonecalls.Nothingworked.—Ow!Hey,Alice,howyoudoing?—Anyway,weranintoone
crisisafteranother.”
Calypsonodded.“Albaniawasparticularlydifficult.”
Fromdowntheline,NicodiAngeloyelled,“PleasedonotmentionAlbania!Okay,who’snext,
folks?Oneline.”
DamienWhitepunchedLeo’sarmandwalkedawaygrinning.Iwasn’tsureDamienevenknew
Leo.Hesimplycouldn’tturndownachancetopunchsomeone.
Leorubbedhisbicep.“Hey,nofair.Thatguy’sgettingbackintheline.So,likeIwassaying,if
Festushadn’tpickeduponthathomingbeaconyesterday,we’dstillbeflyingaround,lookingfora
wayoutoftheSeaofMonsters.”
“Oh,Ihatethatplace,”Percysaid.“There’sthisbigCyclops,Polyphemus—”
“Iknow,right?”Leoagreed.“Whatisupwiththatguy’sbreath?”
“Boys,”Calypsosaid,“perhapsweshouldfocusonthepresent?”
Shedidnotlookatme,butIgottheimpressionshemeantthissillyformergodandhisproblems.
“Yeah,”Percysaid.“Sothecommunicationissues…RachelDarethinksit’sgotsomethingtodo
withthiscompany,Triumvirate.”
RachelherselfhadgonetotheBigHousetofetchChiron,butPercydidareasonablejob
summarizingwhatshehadfoundoutabouttheemperorsandtheirevilcorporation.Ofcourse,we
didn’tknowverymuch.BythetimesixmorepeoplehadpunchedLeointhearm,Percyhadbrought
LeoandCalypsouptospeed.
Leorubbedhisnewbruises.“Man,whydoesitnotsurprisemethatmoderncorporationsarerun
byzombieRomanemperors?”
“Theyarenotzombies,”Isaid.“AndI’mnotsuretheyrunallcorporations—”
Leowavedawaymyexplanation.“Butthey’retryingtotakeovertheOracles.”
“Yes,”Iagreed.
“Andthat’sbad.”
“Very.”
“Soyouneedourhelp.—Ow!Hey,Sherman.Where’dyougetthenewscar,dude?”
WhileShermantoldLeothestoryofCrotchkickerMcCaffreyandtheDemonPeachBaby,I
glancedatCalypso.
ShelookedverydifferentfromwhatIremembered.Herhairwasstilllongandcaramelbrown.
Heralmond-shapedeyeswerestilldarkandintelligent.Butnow,insteadofachitonsheworemodern
jeans,awhiteblouse,andashocking-pinkskijacket.Shelookedyounger—aboutmymortalage.I
wonderedifshehadbeenpunishedwithmortalityforleavingherenchantedisland.Ifso,itdidn’t
seemfairthatshehadretainedherotherworldlybeauty.Shehadneitherflabnoracne.
AsIwatched,shestretchedtwofingerstowardtheoppositeendofthepicnictable,whereapitcher
oflemonadesweatedinthesunlight.Ihadseenherdothissortofthingbefore,willingherinvisible
aerialservantstowhiskobjectsintoherhands.Thistime,nothinghappened.
Alookofdisappointmentcrossedherface.ThensherealizedIwaswatching.Hercheekscolored.
“SinceleavingOgygia,Ihavenopowers,”sheadmitted.“Iamfullymortal.Ikeephoping,but—”
“Youwantadrink?”Percyasked.
“Igotit.”Leobeathimtothepitcher.
IhadnotexpectedtofeelsympathyforCalypso.We’dhadharshwordsinthepast.Afew
millenniaago,IhadopposedherpetitionforearlyreleasefromOgygiabecauseofsome…ah,drama
betweenus.(Longstory.Juicygossip.Pleasedonotaskmelater.)
Still,asafallengod,Iunderstoodhowdisconcertingitwastobewithoutone’spowers.
Ontheotherhand,Iwasrelieved.Thismeantshecouldnotturnmeintoatreefrogororderher
aerialservantstotossmeofftheAthenaParthenos.
“Hereyougo.”Leohandedheraglassoflemonade.Hisexpressionseemeddarkerandmore
anxious,asif…Ah,ofcourse.LeohadrescuedCalypsofromherprisonisland.Indoingso,Calypso
hadlostherpowers.Leofeltresponsible.
Calypsosmiled,thoughhereyeswerestilltouchedbymelancholy.“Thankyou,babe.”
“Babe?”Percyasked.
Leo’sexpressionbrightened.“Yeah.Shewon’tcallmeHunkMuffin,though.Idunnowhy.—Ow!”
ItwasHarley’sturn.ThelittleboypunchedLeo,thenthrewhisarmsaroundhimandbrokedown
sobbing.
“Hey,brother.”Leoruffledhishairandhadthegoodsensetolookashamed.“Youbroughtme
homewiththatbeaconofyours,H-Meister.You’reahero!YouknowIneverwould’veleftyou
hanginglikethatonpurpose,don’tyou?”
Harleywailedandsniffledandnodded.ThenhepunchedLeoagainandranaway.Leolookedlike
hewasabouttogetsick.Harleywasquitestrong.
“Atanyrate,”Calypsosaid,“theseproblemswiththeRomanemperors—howcanwehelp?”
Iraisedmyeyebrows.“Youwillhelpme,then?Despite…ah,well,Ialwaysknewyouwere
kindheartedandforgiving,Calypso.ImeanttovisityouatOgygiamoreoften—”
“Spareme.”Calypsosippedherlemonade.“I’llhelpyouifLeodecidestohelpyou,andheseems
tohavesomeaffectionforyou.Why,Ican’timagine.”
IletgoofthebreathIhadbeenholdingfor…oh,anhour.“I’mgrateful.LeoValdez,youhave
alwaysbeenagentlemanandagenius.Afterall,youcreatedtheValdezinator.”
Leogrinned.“Idid,didn’tI?Isupposethatwasprettyawesome.SowhereisthisnextOracleyou
—Ow!”
Nyssahadmadeittothefrontoftheline.SheslappedLeo,thenberatedhiminrapidSpanish.
“Yeah,okay,okay.”Leorubbedhisface.“Dang,hermana,Iloveyou,too!”
Heturnedhisattentionbacktome.“SothisnextOracle,yousaiditwaswhere?”
Percytappedthepicnictable.“ChironandIweretalkingaboutthis.Hefiguresthistriumvirate
thingie…theyprobablydividedAmericaintothreeparts,withoneemperorinchargeofeach.We
knowNeroisholedupinNewYork,sowe’reguessingthisnextOracleisintheseconddude’s
territory,maybeinthemiddlethirdoftheU.S.”
“Oh,themiddlethirdoftheU.S.!”Leospreadhisarms.“Pieceoftorta,then.We’lljustsearchthe
entiremiddleofthecountry!”
“Stillwiththesarcasm,”Percynoted.
“Hey,man,I’vesailedwiththemostsarcasticscalawagsonthehighseas.”
Thetwogaveeachotherahighfive,thoughIdidnotquiteunderstandwhy.Ithoughtabouta
snippetofprophecyI’dheardinthegrove:somethingaboutIndiana.Itmightbeaplacetostart….
ThelastpersontocomethroughthelinewasChironhimself,pushedinhiswheelchairbyRachel
Dare.TheoldcentaurgaveLeoawarm,fatherlysmile.“Myboy,Iamsopleasedtohaveyouback.
AndyoufreedCalypso,Isee.Welldone,andwelcome,bothofyou!”Chironspreadhisarmsfora
hug.
“Uh,thanks,Chiron.”Leoleanedforward.
FromunderneathChiron’slapblanket,hisequineforelegshotoutandimplantedahoofinLeo’s
gut.Then,justasquickly,thelegdisappeared.“Mr.Valdez,”Chironsaidinthesamekindlytone,“if
youeverpullastuntlikethatagain—”
“Igotit,Igotit!”Leorubbedhisstomach.“Dang,forateacher,yougotaheckofahighkick.”
RachelgrinnedandwheeledChironaway.CalypsoandPercyhelpedLeotohisfeet.
“Yo,Nico,”Leocalled,“pleasetellmethat’sitforthephysicalabuse.”
“Fornow.”Nicosmiled.“We’restilltryingtogetintouchwiththeWestCoast.You’llhaveafew
dozenpeopleouttherewhowilldefinitelywanttohityou.”
Leowinced.“Yeah,that’ssomethingtolookforwardto.Well,IguessI’dbetterkeepmystrength
up.WheredoyouguyseatlunchnowthattheColossussteppedonthediningpavilion?”
Percyleftthatnightjustbeforedinner.
Iexpectedamovingone-on-onefarewell,duringwhichhewouldaskmyadviceabouttesttaking,
beingahero,andlivinglifeingeneral.AfterhelentmehishelpindefeatingtheColossus,itwould
havebeentheleastIcoulddo.
Instead,heseemedmoreinterestedinsayinggood-byetoLeoandCalypso.Iwasn’tpartoftheir
conversation,butthethreeofthemseemedtoreachsomesortofmutualunderstanding.Percyand
Leoembraced.CalypsoevenpeckedPercyonthecheek.ThenthesonofPoseidonwadedintoLong
IslandSoundwithhisextremelylargedogandtheybothdisappearedunderwater.DidMrs.O’Leary
swim?Didshetravelthroughtheshadowsofwhales?Ididnotknow.
Likelunch,dinnerwasacasualaffair.Asdarknessfell,weateonpicnicblanketsaroundthe
hearth,whichblazedwithHestia’swarmthandkeptawaythewinterchill.Festusthedragonsniffed
aroundtheperimeterofthecabins,occasionallyblowingfireintotheskyfornoapparentreason.
“HegotalittledingedupinCorsica,”Leoexplained.“Sometimeshespewsrandomlylikethat.”
“Hehasn’tblowtorchedanyoneimportantyet,”Calypsoadded,hereyebrowarched.“We’llsee
howhelikesyou.”
Festus’sredjeweleyesgleamedinthedarkness.Afterdrivingthesunchariotforsolong,Iwasn’t
nervousaboutridingametaldragon,butwhenIthoughtaboutwhatwe’dberidingtoward,
geraniumsbloomedinmystomach.
“Ihadplannedtogoalone,”Itoldthem.“TheprophecyfromDodonaspeaksofthebronzefireeater,but…itfeelswrongformetoaskyoutoriskyourlives.Youhavebeenthroughsomuchjustto
gethere.”
Calypsotiltedherhead.“Perhapsyouhavechanged.ThatdoesnotsoundliketheApolloI
remember.Youdefinitelyarenotashandsome.”
“Iamstillquitehandsome,”Iprotested.“Ijustneedtoclearupthisacne.”
Shesmirked.“Soyouhaven’tcompletelylostyourbighead.”
“Ibegyourpardon?”
“Guys,”Leointerrupted,“ifwe’regoingtotraveltogether,let’strytokeepitfriendly.”He
pressedanicepacktohisbruisedbicep.“Besides,wewereplanningtoheadwestanyway.Igottofind
mypeepsJasonandPiperandFrankandHazeland…well,prettymucheverybodyatCampJupiter,I
guess.It’llbefun.”
“Fun?”Iasked.“TheOracleofTrophoniuswillsupposedlyswallowmeindeathandmadness.
EvenifIsurvivethat,myothertrialswillnodoubtbelong,harrowing,andquitepossiblyfatal.”
“Exactly,”Leosaid.“Fun.Idon’tknowaboutcallingthewholequestthingApollo’strials,though.
IthinkweshouldcallitLeoValdez’sVictoryLapWorldTour.”
CalypsolaughedandlacedherfingersinLeo’s.Shemaynothavebeenimmortalanymore,but
shestillhadagraceandeasinessaboutherthatIcouldnotfathom.Perhapsshemissedherpowers,
butsheseemedgenuinelyhappytobewithValdez—tobeyoungandmortal,evenifitmeantshe
coulddieatanymoment.
Unlikeme,shehadchosentobecomemortal.SheknewthatleavingOgygiawasarisk,butshe
haddoneitwillingly.Ididn’tknowhowshe’dfoundthecourage.
“Hey,man,”Leotoldme.“Don’tlooksoglum.We’llfindher.”
Istirred.“What?”
“YourfriendMeg.We’llfindher.Don’tworry.”
Abubbleofdarknessburstinsideme.Foronce,Ihadn’tbeenthinkingofMeg.I’dbeenthinking
aboutmyself,andthatmademefeelguilty.PerhapsCalypsowasrighttoquestionwhetherornotI’d
changed.
Igazedatthesilentforest.IrememberedMegdraggingmetosafetywhenIwascoldandsoaked
anddelirious.Irememberedhowfearlesslyshefoughtthemyrmekes,andhowshe’dorderedPeaches
toextinguishthematchwhenNerowantedtoburnhishostages,despiteherfearofunleashingthe
Beast.IhadtomakeherrealizehowevilNerowas.Ihadtofindher.Buthow?
“Megknowstheprophecy,”Isaid.“IfshetellsNero,hewillknowourplansaswell.”
Calypsotookabiteofherapple.“ImissedthewholeRomanEmpire.Howbadcanoneemperor
be?”
“Bad,”Iassuredher.“Andheisalliedwithtwoothers.Wedon’tknowwhichones,butit’ssafeto
assumetheyareequallycutthroat.They’vehadcenturiestoamassfortunes,acquireproperty,build
armies…Whoknowswhattheyarecapableof?”
“Eh,”Leosaid.“WetookdownGaeain,like,fortyseconds.This’llbeeasysqueezy.”
Iseemedtorecallthatthelead-uptothefightwithGaeahadinvolvedmonthsofsufferingand
nearmisseswithdeath.Leo,infact,haddied.IalsowantedtoremindhimthattheTriumviratemight
wellhaveorchestratedallourprevioustroubleswiththeTitansandgiants,whichwouldmakethem
morepowerfulthananythingLeohadeverfaced.
Idecidedthatmentioningthesethingsmightaffectgroupmorale.
“We’llsucceed,”Calypsosaid.“Wemust.Sowewill.Ihavebeentrappedonanislandfor
thousandsofyears.Idon’tknowhowlongthismortallifewillbe,butIintendtolivefullyand
withoutfear.”
“That’smymamacita,”Leosaid.
“WhathaveItoldyouaboutcallingmemamacita?”
Leogrinnedsheepishly.“Inthemorningwe’llstartgettingoursuppliestogether.Assoonas
Festusgetsatune-upandanoilchange,we’llbegoodtogo.”
IconsideredwhatsuppliesIwouldtakewithme.Ihaddepressinglylittle:someborrowedclothes,
abow,aukulele,andanoverlytheatricalarrow.
Buttherealdifficultywouldbesayinggood-byetoWill,Austin,andKayla.Theyhadhelpedme
somuch,andtheyembracedmeasfamilymorethanIhadeverembracedthem.Tearsstungmyeyes.
BeforeIcouldstartsobbing,WillSolacesteppedintothelightofthehearth.“Hey,everybody!We’ve
startedabonfireintheamphitheater!Sing-alongtime.Comeon!”
Groansweremixedinwiththecheers,butmosteveryonegottotheirfeetandambledtowardthe
bonfirenowblazinginthedistance,whereNicodiAngelostoodsilhouettedintheflames,preparing
rowsofmarshmallowsonwhatlookedlikefemurbones.
“Aw,man.”Leowinced.“I’mterribleatsing-alongs.Ialwaysclapanddothe‘OldMacDonald’
soundsatthewrongtime.Canweskipthis?”
“Oh,no.”Irosetomyfeet,suddenlyfeelingbetter.PerhapstomorrowIwouldweepandthink
aboutgood-byes.Perhapsthedayafterthatwewouldbeflyingtowardourdeaths.Buttonight,I
intendedtoenjoymytimewithmyfamily.WhathadCalypsosaid?Livefullyandwithoutfear.Ifshe
coulddoit,thensocouldthebrilliant,fabulousApollo.“Singingisgoodforthespirits.Youshould
nevermissanopportunitytosing.”
Calypsosmiled.“Ican’tbelieveI’msayingthis,butforonceIagreewithApollo.Comeon,Leo.
I’llteachyoutoharmonize.”
Together,thethreeofuswalkedtowardthesoundsoflaughter,music,andawarm,cracklingfire.
AchillesthebestfighteroftheGreekswhobesiegedTroyintheTrojanWar;extraordinarilystrong,
courageous,andloyal,hehadonlyoneweakspot:hisheel
AdmetusthekingofPheraeinThessaly;ZeuspunishedApollobysendinghimtoworkfor
Admetusasashepherd
AeolustheGreekgodofthewinds
AgamemnonkingofMycenae;theleaderoftheGreeksintheTrojanWar;courageous,butalso
arrogantandoverlyproud
agoraGreekforgatheringplace;acentraloutdoorspotforathletic,artistic,spiritual,andpolitical
lifeinancientGreekcity-states
AjaxGreekherowithgreatstrengthandcourage;foughtintheTrojanWar;usedalargeshieldin
battle
ambrosiafoodofthegods;hashealingpowers
amphitheateranovalorcircularopen-airspaceusedforperformancesorsportingevents,with
spectatorseatingbuiltinasemicirclearoundthestage
AphroditetheGreekgoddessofloveandbeauty
apodesmosabandofmaterialthatwomeninancientGreeceworearoundthechest,particularly
whileparticipatinginsports
ApollotheGreekgodofthesun,prophecy,music,andhealing;thesonofZeusandLeto,andthe
twinofArtemis
ArestheGreekgodofwar;thesonofZeusandHera,andhalfbrothertoAthena
ArgotheshipusedbyabandofheroeswhoaccompaniedJasononhisquesttofindtheGolden
Fleece
ArgonautsabandofheroeswhosailedwithJasonontheArgo,insearchoftheGoldenFleece
ArtemistheGreekgoddessofthehuntandthemoon;thedaughterofZeusandLeto,andthetwinof
Apollo
Asclepiusthegodofmedicine;sonofApollo;histemplewasthehealingcenterofancientGreece
AthenatheGreekgoddessofwisdom
AthenaParthenosagiantstatueofAthena;themostfamousGreekstatueofalltime
ballista(ballistae,pl.)aRomanmissilesiegeweaponthatlaunchedalargeprojectileatadistant
target
Batavianancienttribethatlivedinmodern-dayGermany;alsoaninfantryunitintheRomanarmy
withGermanicorigins
BriseisaprincesscapturedbyAchillesduringtheTrojanWar,causingafeudbetweenAchillesand
AgamemnonthatresultedinAchillesrefusingtofightalongsidetheGreeks
BunkerNineahiddenworkshopLeoValdezdiscoveredatCampHalf-Blood,filledwithtoolsand
weapons;itisatleasttwohundredyearsoldandwasusedduringtheDemigodCivilWar
CaesarAugustusthefounderandfirstemperoroftheRomanEmpire;adoptedsonandheirof
JuliusCaesar(seealsoOctavian)
Calliopethemuseofepicpoetry;motherofseveralsons,includingOrpheus
CalypsothegoddessnymphofthemythicalislandofOgygia;adaughteroftheTitanAtlas;she
detainedtheheroOdysseusformanyyears
CampHalf-BloodthetraininggroundforGreekdemigods,locatedinLongIsland,NewYork
CampJupiterthetraininggroundforRomandemigods,locatedbetweentheOaklandHillsandthe
BerkeleyHills,inCalifornia
CassandrathedaughterofKingPriamandQueenHecuba;hadthegiftofprophecy,butwascursed
byApollosothatherpredictionswereneverbelieved,includingherwarningabouttheTrojan
Horse
catapultamilitarymachineusedtohurlobjects
CaveofTrophoniusadeepchasmhometotheOracleTrophonius;itsextremelynarrowentrance
requiredavisitortolieflatonhisbackbeforebeingsuckedintothecave;called“TheCaveof
Nightmares”duetotheterrifyingaccountsofitsvisitors
Celestialbronzeararemetaldeadlytomonsters
centauraraceofcreaturesthatishalf-human,half-horse
CerestheRomangodofagriculture;Greekform:Demeter
Chironacentaur;thecampactivitiesdirectoratCampHalf-Blood
chitonaGreekgarment;asleevelesspieceoflinenorwoolsecuredattheshouldersbybrooches
andatthewaistbyabelt
ChrysothemisadaughterofDemeterwhowonApollo’sloveduringamusiccontest
CirceaGreekgoddessofmagic
CloacinagoddessoftheRomansewersystem
ClytemnestrathedaughterofthekingandqueenofSparta;marriedandlatermurdered
Agamemnon
ColosseumanellipticalamphitheaterinthecenterofRome,Italy,capableofseatingfiftythousand
spectators;usedforgladiatorialcontestsandpublicspectaclessuchasmockseabattles,animal
hunts,executions,re-enactmentsoffamousbattles,anddramas
ColossusNeronis(ColossusofNero)agiganticbronzestatueofEmperorNero;waslater
transformedintothesungodwiththeadditionofasunraycrown
CretanoftheislandofCrete
CrommyonavillageinancientGreecewhereagiantwildsowwreakedhavocbeforeitwaskilled
byTheseus
cuirassleatherormetalarmorconsistingofabreastplateandbackplatewornbyGreekandRoman
soldiers;oftenhighlyornamentedanddesignedtomimicmuscles
Cyclops(Cyclopes,pl.)amemberofaprimordialraceofgiants,eachwithasingleeyeinthe
middleofhisorherforehead
CyreneafiercehuntresswithwhomApollofellinloveafterhesawherwrestlealion;Apollolater
transformedherintoanymphinordertoextendherlife
DaedalusaskilledcraftsmanwhocreatedtheLabyrinthonCreteinwhichtheMinotaur(partman,
partbull)waskept
DaphneabeautifulnaiadwhoattractedApollo’sattention;shewastransformedintoalaureltreein
ordertoescapehim
DemetertheGreekgoddessofagriculture;adaughteroftheTitansRheaandKronos;Roman
form:Ceres
dimachaerusaRomangladiatortrainedtofightwithtwoswordsatonce
DionysustheGreekgodofwineandrevelry;thesonofZeus;activitiesdirectoratCampHalfBlood
DomusAureaEmperorNero’sextravagantvillaintheheartofancientRome,builtaftertheGreat
FireofRome
DoorsofDeaththedoorwaytotheHouseofHades,locatedinTartarus;doorshavetwosides—
oneinthemortalworld,andoneintheUnderworld
drakonagiganticyellow-and-greenserpentlikemonster,withfrillsarounditsneck,reptilianeyes,
andhugetalons;itspitspoison
dryadstreenymphs
ErebosaplaceofdarknessbetweenearthandHades
ErostheGreekgodoflove
ErythaeaanislandwheretheCumaeanSibyl,aloveinterestofApollo,originallylivedbeforehe
convincedhertoleaveitbypromisingheralonglife
FieldsofPunishmentthesectionoftheUnderworldwherepeoplewhowereevilduringtheirlives
aresenttofaceeternalpunishmentfortheircrimesafterdeath
GaeatheGreekearthgoddess;motherofTitans,giants,Cyclopes,andothermonsters
Germani(Germanus,sing.)tribalpeoplewhosettledtothewestoftheRhineriver
GoldenFleecethishidefromagold-hairedwingedramwasasymbolofauthorityandkingship;it
wasguardedbyadragonandfire-breathingbulls;Jasonwastaskedwithobtainingit,resultingin
anepicquest
Gorgonsthreemonstroussisters(Stheno,Euryale,andMedusa)whohavehairofliving,venomous
snakes;Medusa’seyescanturnthebeholdertostone
GreatFireofRomeadevastatingfirethattookplacein64CE,lastingforsixdays;rumors
indicatedthatNerostartedthefiretoclearspaceforthebuildingofhisvilla,DomusAurea,buthe
blamedtheChristiancommunityforthedisaster
greavesshinarmor
Greekfireanincendiaryweaponusedinnavalbattlesbecauseitcancontinueburninginwater
GroveofDodonathesiteoftheoldestGreekOracle,secondonlytotheDelphi;therustlingof
treesinthegroveprovidedanswerstopriestsandpriestesseswhojourneyedtothesite
HadestheGreekgodofdeathandriches;ruleroftheUnderworld
harpyawingedfemalecreaturethatsnatchesthings
HebetheGreekgoddessofyouth;daughterofZeusandHera
Hecategoddessofmagicandcrossroads
HephaestustheGreekgodoffireandcraftsandofblacksmiths;thesonofZeusandHera,and
marriedtoAphrodite
HeratheGreekgoddessofmarriage;Zeus’swifeandsister
HermesGreekgodoftravelers;guidetospiritsofthedead;godofcommunication
HerodotusaGreekhistorianknownasthe“FatherofHistory”
HestiaGreekgoddessofthehearth
hippocampi(hippocampus,sing.)half-horse,half-fishcreatures
hippodromeanovalstadiumforhorseandchariotracesinancientGreece
HittitesagroupofpeoplewholivedinmodernTurkeyandSyria;ofteninconflictwithEgyptians;
knownfortheiruseofchariotsasassaultweapons
HouseofHadesaplaceintheUnderworldwhereHades,theGreekgodofdeath,andhiswife,
Persephone,ruleoverthesoulsofthedeparted
HuntersofArtemisagroupofmaidensloyaltoArtemisandgiftedwithhuntingskillsandeternal
youthaslongastheyrejectmenforlife
HyacinthusaGreekheroandApollo’slover,whodiedwhiletryingtoimpressApollowithhis
discusskills
HypnostheGreekgodofsleep
ichorthegoldenfluidthatisthebloodofgodsandimmortals
imperatoratermforcommanderintheRomanEmpire
Imperialgoldararemetaldeadlytomonsters,consecratedatthePantheon;itsexistencewasa
closelyguardedsecretoftheemperors
IristheGreekgoddessoftherainbow,andamessengerofthegods
JuliandynastythetimeperiodmeasuredfromthebattleofActium(31BCE)tothedeathofNero
(68CE)
karpoi(karpos,sing.)grainspirits
kouretesarmoreddancerswhoguardedtheinfantZeusfromhisfather,Kronos
KronostheyoungestofthetwelveTitans;thesonofOuranosandGaea;thefatherofZeus;he
killedhisfatherathismother ’sbidding;Titanlordoffate,harvest,justice,andtime;Roman
form:Saturn
LabyrinthanundergroundmazeoriginallybuiltontheislandofCretebythecraftsmanDaedalus
toholdtheMinotaur
LaomedonaTrojankingwhomPoseidonandApolloweresenttoserveaftertheyoffendedZeus
LepidusaRomanpatricianandmilitarycommanderwhowasinatriumviratewithOctavianand
MarcAntony
LetomotherofArtemisandApollowithZeus;goddessofmotherhood
Lupercaliaapastoralfestival,observedonFebruary13through15,toavertevilspiritsandpurify
thecity,releasinghealthandfertility
LydiaaprovinceinancientRome;thedoubleaxoriginatedthere,alongwiththeuseofcoinsand
retailshops
MarcAntonyaRomanpoliticianandgeneral;partofthetriumvirate,withLepidusandOctavian,
whotogethertrackeddownanddefeatedCaesar ’skillers;hadanenduringaffairwithCleopatra
MarsyasasatyrwholosttoApolloafterchallenginghiminamusicalcontest,whichledto
Marsyasbeingflayedalive
MedeaafollowerofHecateandoneofthegreatsorceressesoftheancientworld
Midasakingwiththepowertotransformanythinghetouchedtogold;heselectedMarsyasasthe
winnerinthemusicalcontestbetweenApolloandMarsyas,resultinginApollogivingMidasthe
earsofadonkey
MinoskingofCrete;sonofZeus;everyyearhemadeKingAeguspicksevenboysandsevengirls
tobesenttotheLabyrinth,wheretheywouldbeeatenbytheMinotaur;afterhisdeathhebecamea
judgeintheUnderworld
Minotaurthehalf-man,half-bullsonofKingMinosofCrete;theMinotaurwaskeptinthe
Labyrinth,wherehekilledpeoplewhoweresentin;hewasfinallydefeatedbyTheseus
MithridateskingofPontusandArmeniaMinorinnorthernAnatolia(nowTurkey)fromabout120
to63BCE;oneoftheRomanRepublic’smostformidableandsuccessfulenemies,whoengaged
threeoftheprominentgeneralsfromthelateRomanRepublicintheMithridaticWars
MountOlympushomeoftheTwelveOlympians
myrmekeagiantantlikecreaturethatpoisonsandparalyzesitspreybeforeeatingit;knownfor
protectingvariousmetals,particularlygold
NemesistheGreekgoddessofrevenge
NeroRomanemperorfrom54to68CE;thelastintheJuliandynasty
NewRomeacommunitynearCampJupiterwheredemigodscanlivetogetherinpeace,without
interferencefrommortalsormonsters
NiketheGreekgoddessofstrength,speed,andvictory
NineMusesGreekgoddessesofliterature,science,andthearts,whohaveinspiredartistsand
writersforcenturies
NiobedaughterofTantalusandDione;sufferedthelossofhersixsonsandsixdaughters,who
werekilledbyApolloandArtemisasapunishmentforherpride
nosoi(nosos,sing.)spiritsofplagueanddisease
nymphafemalenaturedeitywhoanimatesnature
OctavianthefounderandfirstemperoroftheRomanEmpire;adoptedsonandheirofJulius
Caesar(seealsoCaesarAugustus)
OdysseuslegendaryGreekkingofIthacaandtheheroofHomer ’sepicpoemTheOdyssey
Ogygiatheislandhome—andprison—ofthenymphCalypso
omphalusstonesusedtomarkthecenter—ornavel—oftheworld
OracleofDelphiaspeakerofthepropheciesofApollo
OracleofTrophoniusaGreekwhowastransformedintoanOracleafterhisdeath;locatedatthe
CaveofTrophonius;knownforterrifyingthosewhoseekhim
OuranostheGreekpersonificationofthesky;fatheroftheTitans
palikoi(palikos,sing.)twinsonsofZeusandThaleia;thegodsofgeysersandthermalsprings
PantheGreekgodofthewild;thesonofHermes
Pandorathefirsthumanwomancreatedbythegods;endowedwithauniquegiftfromeach;
releasedevilintotheworldbyopeningajar
ParthenonatemplededicatedtothegoddessAthenalocatedattheAthenianAcropolisinGreece
PatroclussonofMenoetius;hesharedadeepfriendshipwithAchillesafterbeingraisedalongside
him;hewaskilledwhilefightingintheTrojanWar
pegasus(pegasi,pl.)awingeddivinehorse;siredbyPoseidon,inhisroleashorse-god
PeleusfatherofAchilles;hisweddingtothesea-nymphThetiswaswellattendedbythegods,anda
disagreementbetweenthemattheeventeventuallyleadtotheTrojanWar;theguardiandragonat
CampHalf-Bloodisnamedafterhim
PersephonetheGreekqueenoftheUnderworld;wifeofHades;daughterofZeusandDemeter
phalanx(phalanxes,pl.)acompactbodyofheavilyarmedtroops
PhidiasafamousancientGreeksculptorwhocreatedtheAthenaParthenosandmanyothers
Polyphemusthegiganticone-eyedsonofPoseidonandThoosa;oneoftheCyclopes
PoseidontheGreekgodofthesea;sonoftheTitansKronosandRhea,andbrotherofZeusand
Hades
praetoranelectedRomanmagistrateandcommanderofthearmy
PrimordialChaosthefirstthingevertoexist;avoidfromwhichthefirstgodswereproduced
PrometheustheTitanwhocreatedhumansandgiftedthemwithfirestolenfromMountOlympus
PythiathenamegiventoeveryOracleofDelphi
PythonamonstrousserpentthatGaeaappointedtoguardtheOracleatDelphi
RheaSilviathequeenoftheTitans,motherofZeus
RiptidethenameofPercyJackson’ssword;AnaklusmosinGreek
RiverStyxtheriverthatformstheboundarybetweenearthandtheUnderworld
SaturnaliaanancientRomanfestivalcelebratingSaturn(Kronos)
satyraGreekforestgod,partgoatandpartman
shadow-travelaformoftransportationthatallowscreaturesoftheUnderworldandchildrenof
HadestouseshadowstoleaptoanydesiredplaceonearthorintheUnderworld,althoughit
makestheuserextremelyfatigued
Sibylaprophetess
SibyllineBooksacollectionofpropheciesinrhymewritteninGreek;TarquiniusSuperbus,aking
ofRome,boughtthemfromaprophetessandconsultedthemintimesofgreatdanger
siccaeashortcurvedswordusedforbattleinancientRome
Spartaacity-stateinancientGreecewithmilitarydominance
Stygianironamagicalmetal,forgedintheRiverStyx,capableofabsorbingtheveryessenceof
monstersandinjuringmortals,gods,Titans,andgiants;hasasignificanteffectonghostsand
creaturesfromtheUnderworld
TalosagiantmechanicalmanmadeofbronzeandusedonCretetoguarditsshorelinefrom
invaders
TantalusAccordingtolegend,thiskingwassuchagoodfriendofthegodsthathewasallowedto
dineattheirtable—untilhespilledtheirsecretsonearth;hewassenttotheUnderworld,wherehis
cursewastobestuckinapoolofwaterunderafruittree,butneverbeabletodrinkoreat
TartarushusbandofGaea;spiritoftheabyss;fatherofthegiants;aregionoftheUnderworld
TheodosiusthelasttoruleovertheunitedRomanEmpire;knownforclosingallancienttemples
acrosstheempire
ThracianofThrace,aregioncenteredonthemodernbordersofBulgaria,Greece,andTurkey
TitanWartheepicten-yearbattlebetweentheTitansandtheOlympiansthatresultedinthe
Olympianstakingthethrone
TitansaraceofpowerfulGreekdeities,descendantsofGaeaandOuranos,thatruledduringthe
GoldenAgeandwereoverthrownbyaraceofyoungergods,theOlympians
triremeaGreekwarship,havingthreetiersofoarsoneachside
triumvirateapoliticalallianceformedbythreeparties
TrojanWarAccordingtolegend,theTrojanWarwaswagedagainstthecityofTroybythe
Achaeans(Greeks)afterParisofTroytookHelenfromherhusband,Menelaus,kingofSparta
TroyaRomancitysituatedinmodern-dayTurkey;siteoftheTrojanWar
TychetheGreekgoddessofgoodfortune;daughterofHermesandAphrodite
TyphonthemostterrifyingGreekmonster;fatherofmanyfamousmonsters,includingCerberus,
theviciousmulti-headeddogtaskedwithguardingtheentrancetotheUnderworld
Underworldthekingdomofthedead,wheresoulsgoforeternity;ruledbyHades
ZephyrostheGreekgodoftheWestWind
ZeustheGreekgodoftheskyandthekingofthegods
RICKRIORDAN,dubbed“storytellerofthegods”byPublishersWeekly,istheauthoroffour
NewYorkTimes#1best-sellingseries:PercyJacksonandtheOlympiansandTheHeroesofOlympus,
basedonGreekandRomanmythology;theKaneChronicles,basedonEgyptianmythology;and
MagnusChaseandtheGodsofAsgard,basedonNorsemythology.HistwoGreekmythcollections,
PercyJackson’sGreekGodsandPercyJackson’sGreekHeroes,illustratedbyJohnRocco,wereNew
YorkTimes#1bestsellersaswell.RicklivesinBoston,Massachusetts,withhiswifeandtwosons.To
learnmoreabouthim,visithisWebsiteatwww.rickriordan.com.