by Rick Riordan
Nico knelt next to them. ‘Did Coach Hedge make it to camp?’
Lou Ellen giggled nervously. ‘Did he ever.’
Will elbowed her. ‘Yeah. Hedge is fine. He made it just in time for the baby’s birth.’
‘The baby!’ Nico grinned, which hurt his face muscles. He wasn’t used to making that expression. ‘Mellie and the kid are all right?’
‘Fine. A very cute little satyr boy.’ Will shuddered. ‘But I delivered it. Have you ever delivered a baby?’
‘Um, no.’
‘I had to get some fresh air. That’s why I volunteered for this mission. Gods of Olympus, my hands are still shaking. See?’
He took Nico’s hand, which sent an electric current down Nico’s spine. He quickly withdrew. ‘Whatever,’ he snapped. ‘We don’t have time for chitchat. The Romans are attacking at dawn and I’ve got to –’
‘We know,’ Will said. ‘But, if you’re planning to shadow-travel to that command tent, forget it.’
Nico glared at him. ‘Excuse me?’
He expected Will to flinch or look away. Most people did. But Will’s blue eyes stayed fixed on his – annoyingly determined. ‘Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again.’
‘I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine.’
‘No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it. Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders.’
‘The camp is about to be destroyed –’
‘And we’ll stop the Romans,’ Will said. ‘But we’ll do it our way. Lou Ellen will control the Mist. We’ll sneak around, do as much damage as we can to those onagers. But no shadow-travel.’
‘But –’
‘No.’
Lou Ellen’s and Cecil’s heads swivelled back and forth like they were watching a really intense tennis match.
Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently he could also be stubborn and aggravating.
Nico gazed down at Camp Half-Blood, where the rest of the Greeks were preparing for war. Past the troops and ballistae, the canoe lake glittered pink in the first light of dawn. Nico remembered the first time he’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood, crash-landing in Apollo’s sun car, which had been converted into a fiery school bus.
He remembered Apollo, smiling and tanned and completely cool in his shades.
Thalia had said, He’s hot.
He’s the sun god, Percy replied.
That’s not what I meant.
Why was Nico thinking about that now? The random memory irritated him, made him feel jittery.
He had arrived at Camp Half-Blood thanks to Apollo. Now, on what would likely be his last day at camp, he was stuck with a son of Apollo.
‘Whatever,’ Nico said. ‘But we have to hurry. And you’ll follow my lead.’
‘Fine,’ Will said. ‘Just don’t ask me to deliver any more satyr babies and we’ll get along great.’
XLVI
Nico
They made it to the first onager just as chaos broke loose in the legion.
On the far end of the line, cries went up from the Fifth Cohort. Legionnaires scattered and dropped their pila. A dozen centaurs barrelled through the ranks, yelling and waving their clubs, followed by a horde of two-headed men banging on trash-can lids.
‘What’s going on down there?’ Lou Ellen asked.
‘That’s my distraction,’ Nico said. ‘Come on.’
All the guards had clustered on the right side of the onager, trying to see what was going on down the ranks, which gave Nico and his comrades a clear shot to the left. They passed within a few feet of the nearest Roman, but the legionnaire didn’t notice them. Lou Ellen’s Mist magic seemed to be working.
They jumped the spiked trench and reached the machine.
‘I brought some Greek fire,’ Cecil whispered.
‘No,’ Nico said. ‘If we make the damage too obvious, we’ll never get to the other ones in time. Can you recalibrate the aim – like, towards the other onagers’ firing lines?’
Cecil grinned. ‘Oh, I like the way you think. They sent me because I excel at messing things up.’
He went to work while Nico and the others stood guard.
Meanwhile the Fifth Cohort was brawling with the two-headed men. The Fourth Cohort moved in to help. The other three cohorts held their positions, but the officers were having trouble keeping order.
‘All right,’ Cecil announced. ‘Let’s move.’
They shuffled across the hillside towards the next onager.
This time the Mist didn’t work so well. One of the onager guards yelled, ‘Hey!’
‘Got this.’ Will sprinted off – which was possibly the stupidest diversion Nico could imagine – and six of the guards chased after him.
The other Romans advanced on Nico, but Lou Ellen appeared out of the Mist and yelled, ‘Hey, catch!’
She lobbed a white ball the size of an apple. The Roman in the middle caught it instinctively. A twenty-foot sphere of powder exploded outwards. When the dust settled, all six Romans were squealing pink piglets.
‘Nice work,’ Nico said.
Lou Ellen blushed. ‘Well, it’s the only pig ball I have. So don’t ask for an encore.’
‘And, uh –’ Cecil pointed – ‘somebody better help Will.’
Even in their armour, the Romans were starting to gain on Solace. Nico cursed and raced after them.
He didn’t want to kill other demigods if he could avoid it. Fortunately, he didn’t need to. He tripped the Roman at the back and the others turned. Nico jumped into the crowd, kicking groins, smacking faces with the flat of his blade, bashing helmets with his pommel. In ten seconds, the Romans all lay groaning and dazed on the ground.
Will punched his shoulder. ‘Thanks for the assist. Six at once isn’t bad.’
‘Not bad?’ Nico glared at him. ‘Next time I’ll just let them run you down, Solace.’
‘Ah, they’d never catch me.’
Cecil waved at them from the onager, signalling that his job was done.
They all moved towards the third siege machine.
In the legion ranks, everything was still in chaos, but the officers were starting to reassert control. The Fifth and Fourth Cohorts regrouped while the Second and Third acted as riot police, shoving centaurs and cynocephali and two-headed men back into their respective camps. The First Cohort stood closest to the onager – a little too close for Nico’s comfort – but they seemed occupied by a couple of officers parading in front of them, shouting orders.
Nico hoped they could sneak up on the third siege machine. One more onager redirected and they might stand a chance.
Unfortunately, the guards spotted them from twenty yards away. One yelled, ‘There!’
Lou Ellen cursed. ‘They’re expecting an attack now. The Mist doesn’t work well against alert enemies. Do we run?’
‘No,’ Nico said. ‘Let’s give them what they expect.’
He spread his hands. In front of the Romans, the ground erupted. Five skeletons clawed out of the earth. Cecil and Lou Ellen charged in to help. Nico tried to follow, but he would’ve fallen on his face if Will hadn’t caught him.
‘You idiot.’ Will put an arm around him. ‘I told you no more of that Underworld magic.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Shut up. You’re not.’ From his pocket, Will dug out a pack of gum.
Nico wanted to pull away. He hated physical contact. But Will was a lot stronger than he looked. Nico found himself leaning against him, relying on his support.
‘Take this,’ Will said.
‘You want me to chew gum?’
‘It’s medicinal. Should keep you alive and alert for a few more hours.’
Nico shoved a stick of gum into his mouth. ‘Tastes like tar and mud.’
‘Stop complaining.’
‘Hey.’ Cecil limped over, looking like he’d pulled a muscle. ‘You guys kind of missed the fight.’
Lou Ellen followed, grinning. Behind them, all the Roman guards were tangled in a weird assortment of ropes and bones.
‘Thanks for the skeletons,’ she said. ‘Great trick.’
‘Which he won’t be doing again,’ Will said.
Nico realized he was still leaning against Will. He pushed him away and stood on his own two feet. ‘I’ll do what I need to.’
Will rolled his eyes. ‘Fine, Death Boy. If you want to get yourself killed –’
‘Do not call me Death Boy!’
Lou Ellen cleared her throat. ‘Um, guys –’
‘DROP YOUR WEAPONS!’
Nico turned. The fight at the third onager had not gone unnoticed.
The entire First Cohort was advancing on them, spears levelled, shields locked. In front of them marched Octavian, purple robes over his armour, Imperial gold jewellery glittering on his neck and arms, and a crown of laurels on his head as if he’d already won the battle. Next to him was the legion’s standard-bearer, Jacob, holding the golden eagle, and six huge cynocephali, their canine teeth bared, their swords glowing red.
‘Well,’ Octavian snarled, ‘Graecus saboteurs.’ He turned to his dog-headed warriors. ‘Tear them apart.’
XLVII
Nico
Nico wasn’t sure whether to kick himself or Will Solace.
If he hadn’t been so distracted bickering with the son of Apollo, he would never have allowed the enemy to get so close.
As the dog-headed men barrelled forward, Nico raised his sword. He doubted he had the strength left to win, but, before he could attack them, Will let out a piercing taxicab whistle.
All six dog-men dropped their weapons, grabbed their ears and fell down in agony.
‘Dude.’ Cecil opened his mouth to pop his ears. ‘What the actual Hades? A little warning next time.’
‘It’s even worse for the dogs.’ Will shrugged. ‘One of my few musical talents. I do a really awful ultrasonic whistle.’
Nico didn’t complain. He waded through the dog-men, jabbing them with his sword. They dissolved into shadows.
Octavian and the other Romans seemed too stunned to react.
‘My – my elite guard!’ Octavian looked around for sympathy. ‘Did you see what he did to my elite guard?’
‘Some dogs need to be put down.’ Nico took a step forward. ‘Like you.’
For one beautiful moment, the entire First Cohort wavered. Then they remembered themselves and levelled their pila.
‘You will be destroyed!’ Octavian shrieked. ‘You Graeci sneak around, sabotaging our weapons, attacking our men –’
‘You mean the weapons you were about to fire at us?’ Cecil asked.
‘And the men who were about to burn our camp to ashes?’ added Lou Ellen.
‘Just like a Greek!’ Octavian yelled. ‘Trying to twist things around! Well, it won’t work!’ He pointed to the nearest legionnaires. ‘You, you, you and you. Check all the onagers. Make sure they’re operational. I want them fired simultaneously as soon as possible. Go!’
The four Romans ran.
Nico tried to keep his expression neutral.
Please don’t check the firing trajectory, he thought.
He hoped Cecil had done his work well. It was one thing to screw up a huge weapon. It was another thing to screw it up so subtly that no one noticed until it was too late. But if anyone had that skill it would be a child of Hermes, god of trickery.
Octavian marched up to Nico. To his credit, the augur didn’t seem afraid, though his only weapon was a dagger. He stopped so close that Nico could see the bloodshot veins in his pale watery eyes. His face was gaunt. His hair was the colour of overcooked spaghetti.
Nico knew Octavian was a legacy – a descendant of Apollo many generations removed. Now, he couldn’t help thinking that Octavian looked like a watered-down, unhealthy version of Will Solace – like a photo that had been copied too many times. Whatever made a child of Apollo special, Octavian didn’t have it.
‘Tell me, son of Pluto,’ the augur hissed, ‘why are you helping the Greeks? What have they ever done for you?’
Nico was itching to stab Octavian in the chest. He’d been dreaming of that ever since Bryce Lawrence had attacked them in South Carolina. But, now that they were face to face, Nico hesitated. He had no doubt he could kill Octavian before the First Cohort intervened. Nor did Nico particularly care if he died for his actions. The trade-off would be worth it.
But, after what happened with Bryce, the idea of cutting down another demigod in cold blood – even Octavian – didn’t sit well. Nor did it seem right to sentence Cecil, Lou Ellen and Will to die with him.
It doesn’t seem right? Another part of him wondered, Since when do I worry about what’s right?
‘I’m helping the Greeks and the Romans,’ Nico said.
Octavian laughed. ‘Don’t try to con me. What have they offered you – a place in their camp? They won’t honour their agreement.’
‘I don’t want a place in their camp,’ Nico snarled. ‘Or in yours. When this war is over, I’m leaving both camps for good.’
Will Solace made a sound like he’d been punched. ‘Why would you do that?’
Nico scowled. ‘It’s none of your business, but I don’t belong. That’s obvious. No one wants me. I’m a child of –’
‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –’
‘Enough!’ Octavian snapped. ‘Di Angelo, I can beat any offer the Greeks could make. I always thought you would make a powerful ally. I see the ruthlessness in you, and I appreciate that. I can assure you a place in New Rome. All you have to do is step aside and allow the Romans to win. The god Apollo has shown me the future –’
‘No!’ Will Solace shoved Nico out of the way and got in Octavian’s face. ‘I am a son of Apollo, you anaemic loser. My father hasn’t shown anyone the future, because the power of prophecy isn’t working. But this –’ He waved loosely at the assembled legion, the hordes of monstrous armies spread across the hillside. ‘This is not what Apollo would want!’
Octavian’s lip curled. ‘You lie. The god told me personally that I would be remembered as the saviour of Rome. I will lead the legion to victory, and I will start by –’
Nico felt the sound before he heard it – thunk-thunk-thunk reverberating through the earth, like the massive gears of a drawbridge. All the onagers fired at once, and six golden comets billowed into the sky.
‘By destroying the Greeks!’ Octavian cried with glee. ‘The days of Camp Half-Blood are over!’
Nico couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than an off-course projectile. At least, not today. From the three sabotaged machines, the payloads veered sideways, arcing towards the barrage from the other three onagers.
The fireballs didn’t collide directly. They didn’t need to. As soon as the missiles got close to one another, all six warheads detonated in midair, spraying a dome of gold and fire that sucked the oxygen right out of the sky.
The heat stung Nico’s face. The grass hissed. The tops of the trees steamed. But, when the fireworks faded, no serious damage had been done.
Octavian reacted first. He stomped his feet and yelled, ‘NO! NO, NO! RELOAD!’
No one in the First Cohort moved. Nico heard the tromping of boots to his right. The Fifth Cohort was marching towards them double-time, Dakota in the lead.
Further downhill, the rest of the legion was trying to form up, but the Second, Third and Fourth Cohorts were now surroun
ded by a sea of ill-tempered monstrous allies. The auxilia forces didn’t look happy about the explosion overhead. No doubt they’d been waiting for Camp Half-Blood to go up in flames so they’d get chargrilled demigod for breakfast.
‘Octavian!’ Dakota called. ‘We have new orders.’
Octavian’s left eye twitched so violently it looked like it might explode. ‘Orders? From whom? Not from me!’
‘From Reyna,’ Dakota said, loud enough to make sure everyone in the First Cohort could hear. ‘She’s ordered us to stand down.’
‘Reyna?’ Octavian laughed, though no one seemed to get the joke. ‘You mean the outlaw I sent you to arrest? The ex-praetor who conspired to betray her own people with this Graecus?’ He jabbed his finger in Nico’s chest. ‘You’re taking orders from her?’
The Fifth Cohort formed up behind their centurion, uneasily facing their comrades in the First.
Dakota crossed his arms stubbornly. ‘Reyna is the praetor until voted otherwise by the Senate.’
‘This is war!’ Octavian yelled. ‘I’ve brought you to the brink of ultimate victory and you want to give up? First Cohort: arrest Centurion Dakota and any who stand with him. Fifth Cohort: remember your vows to Rome and the legion. You will obey me!’
Will Solace shook his head. ‘Don’t do this, Octavian. Don’t force your people to choose. This is your last chance.’
‘My last chance?’ Octavian grinned, madness glinting in his eyes. ‘I will SAVE ROME! Now, Romans, follow my orders! Arrest Dakota. Destroy these Graecus scum. And reload those onagers!’
What the Romans would have done left to their own devices, Nico didn’t know.
But he hadn’t counted on the Greeks.
At that moment, the entire army of Camp Half-Blood appeared on the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Clarisse La Rue rode in the lead, on a red war chariot pulled by metal horses. A hundred demigods fanned out around her, with twice that many satyrs and nature spirits led by Grover Underwood. Tyson lumbered forward with six other Cyclopes. Chiron stood in full white stallion mode, his bow drawn.
