by Rick Riordan
Percy shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It would’ve been four years ago.’
‘Just before you came to camp.’
Reyna frowned. ‘How did you –?’
‘You’ve got four stripes on your tattoo. Four years.’
Reyna looked at her forearm. ‘Of course. It seems so long ago. I suppose you wouldn’t recall me even if you had your memory. I was just a little girl – one attendant among so many at the spa. But you spoke with my sister, just before you and that other one, Annabeth, destroyed our home.’
Percy tried to remember. He really did. For some reason, Annabeth and he had visited a spa and decided to destroy it. He couldn’t imagine why. Maybe they hadn’t liked the deep-tissue massage? Maybe they’d had bad manicures?
‘It’s a blank,’ he said. ‘Since your dogs aren’t attacking me, I hope you’ll believe me. I’m telling the truth.’
Aurum and Argentum snarled. Percy got the feeling they were thinking, Please lie. Please lie.
Reyna tapped the silver ring.
‘I believe you’re sincere,’ she said. ‘But not everyone at camp does. Octavian thinks you’re a spy. He thinks you were sent here by Gaia to find our weaknesses and distract us. He believes the old legends about the Greeks.’
‘Old legends?’
Reyna’s hand rested halfway between her dagger and the jelly beans. Percy had a feeling that if she made a sudden move she wouldn’t be grabbing for the candy.
‘Some believe Greek demigods still exist,’ she said, ‘heroes who follow the older forms of the gods. There are legends of battles between Roman and Greek heroes in relatively modern times – the American Civil War, for instance. I have no proof of this and, if our Lares know anything, they refuse to say. But Octavian believes the Greeks are still around, plotting our downfall, working with the forces of Gaia. He thinks you are one of them.’
‘Is that what you believe?’
‘I believe you came from somewhere,’ she said. ‘You’re important, and dangerous. Two gods have taken a special interest in you since you arrived, so I can’t believe you’d work against Olympus … or Rome.’ She shrugged. ‘Of course, I could be wrong. Perhaps the gods sent you here to test my judgement. But I think … I think you were sent here to make up for the loss of Jason.’
Jason … Percy couldn’t go very far in this camp without hearing that name.
‘The way you talk about him …’ Percy said. ‘Were you two a couple?’
Reyna’s eyes bored into him – like the eyes of a hungry wolf. Percy had seen enough hungry wolves to know.
‘We might have been,’ Reyna said, ‘given time. Praetors work closely together. It’s common for them to become romantically involved. But Jason was only praetor for a few months before he disappeared. Ever since then, Octavian has been pestering me, agitating for new elections. I’ve resisted. I need a partner in power – but I’d prefer someone like Jason. A warrior, not a schemer.’
She waited. Percy realized she was sending him a silent invitation.
His throat went dry. ‘Oh … you mean … oh.’
‘I believe the gods sent you to help me,’ Reyna said. ‘I don’t understand where you come from, any more than I understood it four years ago. But I think your arrival is some sort of repayment. You destroyed my home once. Now you’ve been sent to save my home. I don’t hold a grudge against you for the past, Percy. My sister hates you still, it’s true, but Fate brought me here to Camp Jupiter. I’ve done well. All I ask is that you work with me for the future. I intend to save this camp.’
The metal dogs glared at him, their mouths frozen in snarl mode. Percy found Reyna’s eyes a lot harder to meet.
‘Look, I’ll help,’ he promised. ‘But I’m new here. You’ve got a lot of good people who know this camp better than I do. If we succeed on this quest, Hazel and Frank will be heroes. You could ask one of them –’
‘Please,’ Reyna said. ‘No one will follow a child of Pluto. There’s something about that girl … rumours about where she came from … No, she won’t do. As for Frank Zhang, he has a good heart, but he’s hopelessly naïve and inexperienced. Besides, if the others found out about his family history at this camp –’
‘Family history?’
‘The point is, Percy, you are the real power on this quest. You are a seasoned veteran. I’ve seen what you can do. A son of Neptune wouldn’t be my first choice, but if you return successfully from this mission the legion might be saved. The praetorship will be yours for the taking. Together, you and I could expand the power of Rome. We could raise an army and find the Doors of Death, crush Gaia’s forces once and for all. You would find me a very helpful … friend.’
She said that word like it could have several meanings, and he could pick which one.
Percy’s feet started tapping on the floor, anxious to run. ‘Reyna … I’m honoured, and all. Seriously. But I’ve got a girlfriend. And I don’t want power, or a praetorship.’
Percy was afraid he’d make her mad. Instead she just raised her eyebrows.
‘A man who turns down power?’ she said. ‘That’s not very Roman of you. Just think about it. In four days, I have to make a choice. If we are to fight off an invasion, we must have two strong praetors. I’d prefer you, but if you fail on your quest, or don’t come back, or refuse my offer … Well, I’ll work with Octavian. I mean to save this camp, Percy Jackson. Things are worse than you realize.’
Percy remembered what Frank said about the monster attacks getting more frequent. ‘How bad?’
Reyna’s nails dug into the table. ‘Even the senate doesn’t know the whole truth. I’ve asked Octavian not to share his auguries, or we’d have mass panic. He’s seen a great army marching south, more than we can possibly defeat. They’re led by a giant –’
‘Alcyoneus?’
‘I don’t think so. If he is truly invulnerable in Alaska, he’d be foolish to come here himself. It must be one of his brothers.’
‘Great,’ Percy said. ‘So we’ve got two giants to worry about.’
The praetor nodded. ‘Lupa and her wolves are trying to slow them down, but this force is too strong even for them. The enemy will be here soon – by the Feast of Fortuna at the very latest.’
Percy shuddered. He’d seen Lupa in action. He knew all about the wolf goddess and her pack. If this enemy was too powerful for Lupa, Camp Jupiter didn’t stand a chance.
Reyna read his expression. ‘Yes, it’s bad, but not hopeless. If you succeed in bringing back our eagle, if you release Death so we can actually kill our enemies, then we stand a chance. And there’s one more possibility …’
Reyna slid the silver ring across the table. ‘I can’t give you much help, but your journey will take you close to Seattle. I’m asking you for a favour, which may also help you. Find my sister, Hylla.’
‘Your sister … the one who hates me?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Reyna agreed. ‘She would love to kill you. But show her that ring as a token from me, and she may help you instead.’
‘May?’
‘I can’t speak for her. In fact …’ Reyna frowned. ‘In fact I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. She’s gone silent. With these armies passing through –’
‘You want me to check on her,’ Percy guessed. ‘Make sure she’s okay.’
‘Partially, yes. I can’t imagine she’s been overcome. My sister has a powerful force. Her territory is well defended. But if you can find her she could offer you valuable help. It could mean the difference between success and failure on your quest. And if you tell her what’s happening here –’
‘She might send help?’ Percy asked.
Reyna didn’t answer, but Percy could see the desperation in her eyes. She was terrified, grasping for anything that could save her camp. No wonder she wanted Percy’s help. She was the only praetor. The defence of the camp rested on her shoulders alo
ne.
Percy took the ring. ‘I’ll find her. Where do I look? What kind of force does she have?’
‘Don’t worry. Just go to Seattle. They’ll find you.’
That didn’t sound encouraging, but Percy slipped the ring onto his leather necklace with his beads and his probatio tablet. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘Fight well, Percy Jackson,’ Reyna said. ‘And thank you.’
He could tell the audience was over. Reyna was having trouble holding herself together, keeping up the image of the confident commander. She needed some time by herself.
But at the door of the principia, Percy couldn’t resist turning. ‘How did we destroy your home – that spa where you lived?’
The metal greyhounds growled. Reyna snapped her fingers to silence them.
‘You destroyed the power of our mistress,’ she said. ‘You freed some prisoners who took revenge on all of us who lived on the island. My sister and I … well, we survived. It was difficult. But in the long run I think we are better off away from that place.’
‘Still, I’m sorry,’ Percy said. ‘If I hurt you, I’m sorry.’
Reyna gazed at him for a long time, as if trying to translate his words. ‘An apology? Not very Roman at all, Percy Jackson. You’d make an interesting praetor. I hope you’ll think about my offer.’
XVI
Percy
Lunch felt like a funeral party. Everybody ate. People talked in hushed tones. Nobody seemed particularly happy. The other campers kept glancing over at Percy like he was the corpse of honour.
Reyna made a brief speech wishing them luck. Octavian ripped open a Beanie Baby and pronounced grave omens and hard times ahead, but predicted the camp would be saved by an unexpected hero (whose initials were probably OCTAVIAN). Then the other campers went off to their afternoon classes – gladiator fighting, Latin lessons, paintball with ghosts, eagle training and a dozen other activities that sounded better than a suicide quest. Percy followed Hazel and Frank to the barracks to pack.
Percy didn’t have much. He’d cleaned up his backpack from his trip south and had kept most of his Bargain Mart supplies. He had a fresh pair of jeans and an extra purple T-shirt from the camp quartermaster, plus some nectar, ambrosia, snacks, a little mortal money and camping supplies. At lunch, Reyna had handed him a scroll of introduction from the praetor and camp senate. Supposedly, any retired legionnaires they met on the trip would help them if shown the letter. He also kept his leather necklace with the beads, the silver ring and the probatio tablet, and of course he had Riptide in his pocket. He folded his tattered orange T-shirt and left it on his bunk.
‘I’ll be back,’ he said. He felt pretty stupid talking to a T-shirt, but he was really thinking of Annabeth, and his old life. ‘I’m not leaving for good. But I have to help these guys. They took me in. They deserve to survive.’
The T-shirt didn’t answer, thankfully.
One of their roommates, Bobby, gave them a ride to the border of the valley on Hannibal the elephant. From the hilltops, Percy could see everything below. The Little Tiber snaked across golden pastures where the unicorns were grazing. The temples and forums of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. On the Field of Mars, engineers were hard at work, pulling down the remains of last night’s fort and setting up barricades for a game of deathball. A normal day for Camp Jupiter – but on the northern horizon, storm clouds were gathering. Shadows moved across the hills, and Percy imagined the face of Gaia getting closer and closer.
Work with me for the future, Reyna had said. I intend to save this camp.
Looking down at the valley, Percy understood why she cared so much. Even though he was new to Camp Jupiter, he felt a fierce desire to protect this place. A safe haven where demigods could build their lives – he wanted that to be part of his future. Maybe not the way Reyna imagined, but if he could share this place with Annabeth …
They got off the elephant. Bobby wished them a safe journey. Hannibal wrapped the three questers with his trunk. Then the elephant taxi service headed back into the valley.
Percy sighed. He turned to Hazel and Frank and tried to think of something upbeat to say.
A familiar voice said, ‘IDs, please.’
A statue of Terminus appeared at the summit of the hill. The god’s marble face frowned irritably. ‘Well? Come along!’
‘You again?’ Percy asked. ‘I thought you just guarded the city.’
Terminus huffed. ‘Glad to see you, too, Mr Rule Flouter. Normally, yes, I guard the city, but for international departures I like to provide extra security at the camp borders. You really should’ve allowed two hours before your planned departure time, you know. But we’ll have to make do. Now, come over here so I can pat you down.’
‘But you don’t have –’ Percy stopped himself. ‘Uh, sure.’
He stood next to the armless statue. Terminus conducted a rigorous mental pat down.
‘You seem to be clean,’ Terminus decided. ‘Do you have anything to declare?’
‘Yes,’ Percy said. ‘I declare this is stupid.’
‘Hmph! Probatio tablet: Percy Jackson, Fifth Cohort, son of Neptune. Fine, go. Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. Fine. Any foreign currency or, ahem, precious metals to declare?’
‘No,’ she muttered.
‘Are you sure?’ Terminus asked. ‘Because last time –’
‘No!’
‘Well, this is a grumpy bunch,’ said the god. ‘Quest travellers! Always in a rush. Now, let’s see – Frank Zhang. Ah! Centurion? Well done, Frank. And that haircut is regulation perfect. I approve! Off you go, then, Centurion Zhang. Do you need any directions today?’
‘No. No, I guess not.’
‘Just down to the BART station,’ Terminus said anyway. ‘Change trains at Twelfth Street in Oakland. You want Fruitvale Station. From there, you can walk or take the bus to Alameda.’
‘You guys don’t have a magical BART train or something?’ Percy asked.
‘Magic trains!’ Terminus scoffed. ‘You’ll be wanting your own security lane and a pass to the executive lounge next. Just travel safely, and watch out for Polybotes. Talk about scofflaws – bah! I wish I could throttle him with my bare hands.’
‘Wait – who?’ Percy asked.
Terminus made a straining expression, like he was flexing his nonexistent biceps. ‘Ah, well. Just be careful of him. I imagine he can smell a son of Neptune a mile away. Out you go, now. Good luck!’
An invisible force kicked them across the boundary. When Percy looked back, Terminus was gone. In fact, the entire valley was gone. The Berkeley Hills seemed to be free of any Roman camp.
Percy looked at his friends. ‘Any idea what Terminus was talking about? Watch out for … Political something or other?’
‘Poh-LIB-uh-tease?’ Hazel sounded out the name carefully. ‘Never heard of him.’
‘Sounds Greek,’ Frank said.
‘That narrows it down.’ Percy sighed. ‘Well, we probably just appeared on the smell radar for every monster within five miles. We’d better get moving.’
It took them two hours to reach the docks in Alameda. Compared to Percy’s last few months, the trip was easy. No monsters attacked. Nobody looked at Percy like he was a homeless wild child.
Frank had stored his spear, bow and quiver in a long bag made for skis. Hazel’s cavalry sword was wrapped in a bedroll slung on her back. Together the three of them looked like normal high schoolers on their way to an overnight trip. They walked to Rockridge Station, bought their tickets with mortal money, and hopped on the BART train.
They got off in Oakland. They had to walk through some rough neighbourhoods, but nobody bothered them. Whenever the local gang members came close enough to look in Percy’s eyes, they quickly veered away. He’d perfected his wolf stare over the last few months – a look that said: However bad you think you are, I’m worse. After strangling sea monsters and running over gorg
ons in a police car, Percy wasn’t scared of gangs. Pretty much nothing in the mortal world scared him any more.
In the late afternoon, they made it to the Alameda docks. Percy looked out over San Francisco Bay and breathed in the salty sea air. Immediately he felt better. This was his father’s domain. Whatever they faced, he’d have the upper hand as long as they were at sea.
Dozens of boats were moored at the docks – everything from fifty-foot yachts to ten-foot fishing boats. He scanned the slips for some sort of magic vessel – a trireme, maybe, or a dragon-headed warship like he’d seen in his dreams.
‘Um … you guys know what we’re looking for?’
Hazel and Frank shook their heads.
‘I didn’t even know we had a navy.’ Hazel sounded as if she wished there wasn’t one.
‘Oh …’ Frank pointed. ‘You don’t think …?’
At the end of the dock was a tiny boat, like a dinghy, covered in a purple tarp. Embroidered in faded gold along the canvas was S.P.Q.R.
Percy’s confidence wavered. ‘No way.’
He uncovered the boat, his hands working the knots like he’d been doing it his whole life. Under the tarp was an old steel rowboat with no oars. The boat had been painted dark blue at one point, but the hull was so crusted with tar and salt it looked like one massive nautical bruise.
On the bow, the name Pax was still readable, lettered in gold. Painted eyes drooped sadly at the water level, as if the boat were about to fall asleep. On board were two benches, some steel wool, an old cooler, and a mound of frayed rope with one end tied to the mooring. At the bottom of the boat, a plastic bag and two empty Coke cans floated in several inches of scummy water.
‘Behold,’ Frank said. ‘The mighty Roman navy.’
‘There’s got to be a mistake,’ Hazel said. ‘This is a piece of junk.’
Percy imagined Octavian laughing at them, but he decided not to let it get him down. The Pax was still a boat. He jumped aboard, and the hull hummed under his feet, responding to his presence. He gathered up the garbage in the cooler and put it on the dock. He willed the scummy water to flow over the sides and out of the boat. Then he pointed at the steel wool and it flew across the floor, scrubbing and polishing so fast, the steel began to smoke. When it was done, the boat was clean. Percy pointed at the rope, and it untied itself from the dock.
