by Rick Riordan
Piper wished that he hadn’t promised. The word only reminded her of the Prophecy of Seven: an oath to keep with a final breath.
Please, she thought, wondering if her mom, the goddess of love, could hear her. Don’t let it be Jason’s final breath. If love means anything, don’t take him away.
As soon as she had made the wish, she felt guilty. How could she stand to see Annabeth in that kind of pain if Percy died? How could she live with herself if any of the seven demigods died? Already, each of them had endured so much. Even the two new Roman kids, Hazel and Frank, whom Piper barely knew, felt like kin. At Camp Jupiter, Percy had recounted their trip to Alaska, which sounded as harrowing as anything Piper had experienced. And, from the way Hazel and Frank tried to help during the exorcism, she could tell they were brave, good people.
‘The legend that Annabeth mentioned,’ she said, ‘about the Mark of Athena … why didn’t you want to talk about it?’
She was afraid Jason might shut her out, but he just lowered his head like he’d been expecting the question. ‘Pipes, I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. That legend … it could be really dangerous.’
‘For who?’
‘All of us,’ he said grimly. ‘The story goes that the Romans stole something important from the Greeks, back in ancient times, when the Romans conquered the Greeks’ cities.’
Piper waited, but Jason seemed lost in thought.
‘What did they steal?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure anyone in the legion has ever known. But, according to the story, this thing was taken away to Rome and hidden there. The children of Athena, Greek demigods, have hated us ever since. They’ve always stirred up their brethren against the Romans. Like I said, I don’t know how much of that is true –’
‘But why not just tell Annabeth?’ Piper asked. ‘She’s not going to suddenly hate you.’
He seemed to have trouble focusing on her. ‘I hope not. But the legend says that the children of Athena have been searching for this thing for millennia. Every generation, a few are chosen by the goddess to find it. Apparently, they’re led to Rome by some sign … the Mark of Athena.’
‘If Annabeth is one of those searchers … we should help her.’
Jason hesitated. ‘Maybe. When we get closer to Rome, I’ll tell her what little I know. Honest. But the story, at least the way I heard it – it claims that if the Greeks ever found what was stolen they’d never forgive us. They’d destroy the legion and Rome, once and for all. After what Nemesis told Leo, about Rome’s being destroyed five days from now …’
Piper studied Jason’s face. He was, without a doubt, the bravest person she’d ever known, but she realized he was afraid. This legend – the idea that it might tear apart their group and level a city – absolutely terrified him.
Piper wondered what could have been stolen from the Greeks that would be so important. She couldn’t imagine anything that would make Annabeth suddenly turn vengeful.
Then again, Piper couldn’t imagine choosing one demigod’s life over another, and today on that deserted road, just for a moment, Gaia had almost tempted her …
‘I’m sorry, by the way,’ Jason said.
Piper wiped the last tear from her face. ‘Sorry for what? It was the eidolon who attacked –’
‘Not about that.’ The little scar on Jason’s upper lip seemed to glow white in the moonlight. She’d always loved that scar. The imperfection made his face much more interesting.
‘I was stupid to ask you to contact Reyna,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Oh.’ Piper looked up at the clouds and wondered if her mother, Aphrodite, was somehow influencing him. His apology seemed too good to be true.
But don’t stop, she thought. ‘Really, it’s okay.’
‘It’s just … I never felt that way towards Reyna,’ Jason said, ‘so I didn’t think about it making you uncomfortable. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Pipes.’
‘I wanted to hate her,’ Piper admitted. ‘I was so afraid you’d go back to Camp Jupiter.’
Jason looked surprised. ‘That would never happen. Not unless you came with me. I promise.’
Piper held his hand. She managed a smile, but she was thinking: Another promise. An oath to keep with a final breath.
She tried to put those thoughts out of her mind. She knew she should just enjoy this quiet moment with Jason. But, as she looked over the side of the ship, she couldn’t help remembering how much the prairie at night looked like dark water – like the drowning room she’d seen in the blade of her knife.
XIII
Percy
Forget the chicken-nugget smoke screen. Percy wanted Leo to invent an anti-dream hat.
That night he had horrible nightmares. First he dreamed he was back in Alaska on the quest for the legion’s eagle. He was hiking along a mountain road, but as soon as he stepped off the shoulder he was swallowed by the bog – muskeg, Hazel had called it. He found himself choking in mud, unable to move or see or breathe. For the first time in his life, he understood what it was like to drown.
It’s just a dream, he told himself. I’ll wake up.
But that didn’t make it any less terrifying.
Percy had never been scared of water. It was his father’s element. But since the muskeg experience he’d developed a fear of suffocation. He could never admit this to anyone, but it had even made him nervous about going in the water. He knew that was silly. He couldn’t drown. But he also suspected that if he didn’t control the fear it might start controlling him.
He thought about his friend Thalia, who was scared of heights even though she was the daughter of the sky god. Her brother, Jason, could fly by summoning the winds. Thalia couldn’t, maybe because she was too afraid to try. If Percy started to believe he could drown …
The muskeg pressed against his chest. His lungs wanted to burst.
Stop panicking, he told himself. This isn’t real.
Just when he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, the dream changed.
He stood in a vast gloomy space like an underground parking garage. Rows of stone pillars marched off in every direction, holding up the ceiling about twenty feet above. Freestanding braziers cast a dim red glow over the floor.
Percy couldn’t see very far in the shadows, but hanging from the ceiling were pulley systems, sandbags and rows of dark theatre lights. Piled around the chamber, wooden crates were labelled PROPS, WEAPONS and COSTUMES. One read: ASSORTED ROCKET LAUNCHERS.
Percy heard machinery creaking in the darkness, huge gears turning and water rushing through pipes.
Then he saw the giant … or at least Percy guessed that he was a giant.
He was about twelve feet tall – a respectable height for a Cyclops, but only half as tall as other giants Percy had dealt with. He also looked more human than a typical giant, without the dragonlike legs of his larger kin. Nevertheless, his long purple hair was braided in a ponytail of dreadlocks, woven with gold and silver coins, which struck Percy as a giantish hairstyle. He had a ten-foot spear strapped to his back – a giantish weapon.
He wore the largest black turtleneck Percy had ever seen, black trousers and black leather shoes with points so long and curly they might have been jester slippers. He paced back and forth in front of a raised platform, examining a bronze jar about the size of Percy.
‘No, no, no,’ the giant muttered to himself. ‘Where’s the splash? Where’s the value?’ He yelled into the darkness, ‘Otis!’
Percy heard something shuffling in the distance. Another giant appeared out of the gloom. He wore exactly the same black outfit, right down to the curly shoes. The only difference between the two giants was that the second one’s hair was green rather than purple.
The first giant cursed. ‘Otis, why do you do this to me every day? I told you I was wearing the black turtleneck today. You could wear anything but the black turtleneck!’
Otis blinked as if he’d just woken u
p. ‘I thought you were wearing the yellow toga today.’
‘That was yesterday! When you showed up in the yellow toga!’
‘Oh. Right. Sorry, Ephie.’
His brother snarled. They had to be twins, because their faces were identically ugly.
‘And don’t call me Ephie,’ Ephie demanded. ‘Call me Ephialtes. That’s my name. Or you can use my stage name: The BIG F!’
Otis grimaced. ‘I’m still not sure about that stage name.’
‘Nonsense! It’s perfect. Now, how are the preparations coming along?’
‘Fine.’ Otis didn’t sound very enthusiastic. ‘The man-eating tigers, the spinning blades … But I still think a few ballerinas would be nice.’
‘No ballerinas!’ Ephialtes snapped. ‘And this thing.’ He waved at the bronze jar in disgust. ‘What does it do? It’s not exciting.’
‘But that’s the whole point of the show. He dies unless the others rescue him. And if they arrive on schedule –’
‘Oh, they’d better!’ Ephialtes said. ‘July first, the Kalends of July, sacred to Juno. That’s when Mother wants to destroy those stupid demigods and really rub it in Juno’s face. Besides, I’m not paying overtime for those gladiator ghosts!’
‘Well, then, they all die,’ Otis said, ‘and we start the destruction of Rome. Just like Mother wants. It’ll be perfect. The crowd will love it. Roman ghosts adore this sort of thing.’
Ephialtes looked unconvinced. ‘But the jar just stands there. Couldn’t we suspend it above a fire, or dissolve it in a pool of acid or something?’
‘We need him alive for a few more days,’ Otis reminded his brother. ‘Otherwise, the seven won’t take the bait and rush to save him.’
‘Hmm. I suppose. I’d still like a little more screaming. This slow death is boring. Ah, well, what about our talented friend? Is she ready to receive her visitor?’
Otis made a sour face. ‘I really don’t like talking to her. She makes me nervous.’
‘But is she ready?’
‘Yes,’ Otis said reluctantly. ‘She’s been ready for centuries. No one will be removing that statue.’
‘Excellent.’ Ephialtes rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘This is our big chance, my brother.’
‘That’s what you said about our last stunt,’ Otis mumbled. ‘I was hanging in that block of ice suspended over the River Lethe for six months, and we didn’t even get any media attention.’
‘This is different!’ Ephialtes insisted. ‘We will set a new standard for entertainment! If Mother is pleased, we can write our own ticket to fame and fortune!’
‘If you say so,’ Otis sighed. ‘Though I still think those ballerina costumes from Swan Lake would look lovely –’
‘No ballet!’
‘Sorry.’
‘Come,’ Ephialtes said. ‘Let’s examine the tigers. I want to be sure they are hungry!’
The giants lumbered off into the gloom, and Percy turned towards the jar.
I need to see inside, he thought.
He willed his dream forward, right to the surface of the jar. Then he passed through.
The air in the jar smelled of stale breath and tarnished metal. The only light came from the dim purple glow of a dark sword, its Stygian iron blade set against one side of the container. Huddled next to it was a dejected-looking boy in tattered jeans, a black shirt and an old aviator jacket. On his right hand, a silver skull ring glittered.
‘Nico,’ Percy called. But the son of Hades couldn’t hear him.
The container was completely sealed. The air was turning poisonous. Nico’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. He appeared to be meditating. His face was pale, and thinner than Percy remembered.
On the inner wall of the jar, it looked as though Nico had scratched three hash marks with his sword – maybe it had been three days that he’d been imprisoned?
It didn’t seem possible he could have survived so long without suffocating. Even in a dream, Percy was already starting to feel panicky, struggling to get enough oxygen.
Then he noticed something between Nico’s feet – a small collection of glistening objects no bigger than baby teeth.
Seeds, Percy realized. Pomegranate seeds. Three had been eaten and spat out. Five were still encased in dark red pulp.
‘Nico,’ Percy said, ‘where is this place? We’ll save you …’
The image faded, and a girl’s voice whispered: ‘Percy.’
At first, Percy thought he was still asleep. When he’d lost his memory, he’d spent weeks dreaming about Annabeth, the only person he remembered from his past. As his eyes opened and his vision cleared, he realized she was really there.
She was standing by his berth, smiling down at him.
Her blonde hair fell across her shoulders. Her storm-grey eyes were bright with amusement. He remembered his first day at Camp Half-Blood, five years ago, when he’d woken from a daze and found Annabeth standing over him. She had said, You drool when you sleep.
She was sentimental that way.
‘Wh– what’s going on?’ he asked. ‘Are we there?’
‘No,’ she said, her voice low. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’
‘You mean …’ Percy’s heart started to race. He realized he was in his pyjamas, in bed. He probably had been drooling, or at least making weird noises as he dreamed. No doubt he had a severe case of pillow hair and his breath didn’t smell great. ‘You sneaked into my cabin?’
Annabeth rolled her eyes. ‘Percy, you’ll be seventeen in two months. You can’t seriously be worried about getting into trouble with Coach Hedge.’
‘Uh, have you seen his baseball bat?’
‘Besides, Seaweed Brain, I just thought we could take a walk. We haven’t had any time to be together alone. I want to show you something – my favourite place aboard the ship.’
Percy’s pulse was still in overdrive, but it wasn’t from fear of getting into trouble. ‘Can I, you know, brush my teeth first?’
‘You’d better,’ Annabeth said. ‘Because I’m not kissing you until you do. And brush your hair while you’re at it.’
For a trireme, the ship was huge, but it still felt cosy to Percy – like his dorm building back at Yancy Academy, or any of the other boarding schools he’d been kicked out of. Annabeth and he crept downstairs to the second deck, which Percy hadn’t explored except for sickbay.
She led him past the engine room, which looked like a very dangerous, mechanized jungle gym, with pipes and pistons and tubes jutting from a central bronze sphere. Cables resembling giant metal noodles snaked across the floor and ran up the walls.
‘How does that thing even work?’ Percy asked.
‘No idea,’ Annabeth said. ‘And I’m the only one besides Leo who can operate it.’
‘That’s reassuring.’
‘It should be fine. It’s only threatened to blow up once.’
‘You’re kidding, I hope.’
She smiled. ‘Come on.’
They worked their way past the supply rooms and the armoury. Towards the stern of the ship, they reached a set of wooden double doors that opened into a large stable. The room smelled of fresh hay and wool blankets. Lining the left wall were three empty horse stalls like the ones they used for pegasi back at camp. The right wall had two empty cages big enough for large zoo animals.
In the centre of the floor was a twenty-foot-square see-through panel. Far below, the night landscape whisked by – miles of dark countryside crisscrossed with illuminated highways like the strands of a web.
‘A glass-bottomed boat?’ Percy asked.
Annabeth grabbed a blanket from the nearest stable gate and spread it across part of the glass floor. ‘Sit with me.’
They relaxed on the blanket, as if they were having a picnic, and watched the world go by below.
‘Leo built the stables so pegasi could come and go easily,’ Annabeth said. ‘Only he didn’t realize that pegasi prefer to roam free, so the stables are always empty.
’
Percy wondered where Blackjack was – roaming the skies somewhere, hopefully following their progress. Percy’s head still throbbed from getting whopped by Blackjack’s hoof, but he didn’t hold that against the horse.
‘What do you mean, come and go easily?’ he asked. ‘Wouldn’t a pegasus have to make it down two flights of stairs?’
Annabeth rapped her knuckles on the glass. ‘These are bay doors, like on a bomber.’
Percy gulped. ‘You mean we’re sitting on doors? What if they opened?’
‘I suppose we’d fall to our deaths. But they won’t open. Most likely.’
‘Great.’
Annabeth laughed. ‘You know why I like it here? It’s not just the view. What does this place remind you of?’
Percy looked around: the cages and stables, the Celestial bronze lamp hanging from the beam, the smell of hay and of course Annabeth sitting close to him, her face ghostly and beautiful in the soft amber light.
‘That zoo truck,’ Percy decided. ‘The one we took to Las Vegas.’
Her smile told him he’d got the answer right.
‘That was so long ago,’ Percy said. ‘We were in bad shape, struggling to get across the country to find that stupid lightning bolt, trapped in a truck with a bunch of mistreated animals. How can you be nostalgic about that?’
‘Because, Seaweed Brain, it’s the first time we really talked, you and me. I told you about my family, and …’ She took out her camp necklace, strung with her dad’s college ring and a colourful clay bead for each year at Camp Half-Blood. Now there was something else on the leather cord: a red coral pendant Percy had given her when they had started dating. He’d brought it from his father’s palace at the bottom of the sea.
‘And,’ Annabeth continued, ‘it reminds me how long we’ve known each other. We were twelve, Percy. Can you believe that?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘So … you knew you liked me from that moment?’
She smirked. ‘I hated you at first. You annoyed me. Then I tolerated you for a few years. Then –’
‘Okay, fine.’
She leaned over and kissed him: a good, proper kiss without anyone watching – no Romans anywhere, no screaming satyr chaperones.
