The Mark of Athena

Page 18

“So it wasn’t my fault.” Leo exhaled. “I didn’t start World War Three. I just got possessed by an evil spirit. That’s a relief!”
“But the Romans don’t know that,” Annabeth said. “And why would they take our word for it?”
“We could contact Reyna,” Jason suggested. “She would believe us.”
Hearing the way Jason said her name, like it was a lifeline to his past, made Piper’s heart sink.
Jason turned to her with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “You could convince her, Pipes. I know you could.”
Piper felt like all the blood in her body was draining into her feet. Annabeth looked at her sympathetically, as if to say: Boys are so clueless. Even Hazel winced.
“I could try,” she said halfheartedly. “But Octavian is the one we have to worry about. In my dagger blade, I saw him taking control of the Roman crowd. I’m not sure Reyna can stop him.”
Jason’s expression darkened. Piper didn’t get any pleasure from bursting his bubble, but the other Romans—Hazel and Frank—nodded in agreement.
“She’s right,” Frank said. “This afternoon when we were scouting, we saw eagles again. They were a long way off, but closing fast. Octavian is on the warpath.”
Hazel grimaced. “This is exactly the sort of opportunity Octavian has always wanted. He’ll try to seize power. If Reyna objects, he’ll say she’s soft on the Greeks. As for those eagles…It’s like they could smell us.”
“They can,” Jason said. “Roman eagles can hunt demigods by their magical scent even better than monsters can. This ship might conceal us somewhat, but not completely—not from them.”
Leo drummed his fingers. “Great. I should have installed a smoke screen that makes the ship smell like a giant chicken nugget. Remind me to invent that, next time.”
Hazel frowned. “What is a chicken nugget?”
“Oh, man…” Leo shook his head in amazement. “That’s right. You’ve missed the last like, seventy years. Well, my apprentice, a chicken nugget—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupted. “The point is, we’ll have a hard time explaining the truth to the Romans. Even if they believe us—”
“You’re right.” Jason leaned forward. “We should just keep going. Once we’re over the Atlantic, we’ll be safe—at least from the legion.”
He sounded so depressed, Piper didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or resentful. “How can you be sure?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t they follow us?”
He shook his head. “You heard Reyna talking about the ancient lands. They’re much too dangerous. Roman demigods have been forbidden to go there for generations. Even Octavian couldn’t get around that rule.”
Frank swallowed a bite of burrito like it had turned to cardboard in his mouth. “So, if we go there…”
“We’ll be outlaws as well as traitors,” Jason confirmed. “Any Roman demigod would have the right to kill us on sight. But I wouldn’t worry about that. If we get across the Atlantic, they’ll give up on chasing us. They’ll assume that we’ll die in the Mediterranean—the Mare Nostrum.”
Percy pointed his pizza slice at Jason. “You, sir, are a ray of sunshine.”
Jason didn’t argue. The other demigods stared at their plates, except for Percy, who continued to enjoy his pizza. Where he put all that food, Piper didn’t know. The guy could eat like a satyr.
“So let’s plan ahead,” Percy suggested, “and make sure we don’t die. Mr. D—Bacchus— Ugh, do I have to call him Mr. B now? Anyway, he mentioned the twins in Ella’s prophecy. Two giants. Otis and, uh, something that started with an F?”
“Ephialtes,” Jason said.
“Twin giants, like Piper saw in her blade…” Annabeth ran her finger along the rim of her cup. “I remember a story about twin giants. They tried to reach Mount Olympus by piling up a bunch of mountains.”
Frank nearly choked. “Well, that’s great. Giants who can use mountains like building blocks. And you say Bacchus killed these guys with a pinecone on a stick?”
“Something like that,” Percy said. “I don’t think we should count on his help this time. He wanted a tribute, and he made it pretty clear it would be a tribute we couldn’t handle.”
Silence fell around the table. Piper could hear Coach Hedge above deck singing “Blow the Man Down,” except he didn’t know the lyrics, so he mostly sang, “Blah-blah-hum-de-dum-dum.”
Piper couldn’t shake the feeling that Bacchus was meant to help them. The giant twins were in Rome. They were keeping something the demigods needed—something in that bronze jar. Whatever it was, she got the feeling it held the answer to sealing the Doors of Death—the key to endless death. She also felt sure they could never defeat the giants without Bacchus’s help. And if they couldn’t do that in five days, Rome would be destroyed, and Hazel’s brother, Nico, would die.
On the other hand, if the vision of Bacchus offering her a silver goblet was false, maybe the other visions didn’t have to come true either—especially the one of her, Percy, and Jason drowning. Maybe that was just symbolic.
The blood of a female demigod, Gaea had said, and the blood of a male. Piper, my dear, choose which hero will die with you.
“She wants two of us,” Piper murmured.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Piper hated being the center of attention. Maybe that was strange for a child of Aphrodite, but she’d watched her dad, the movie star, deal with fame for years. She remembered when Aphrodite had claimed her at the bonfire in front of the entire camp, zapping her with a magic beauty-queen makeover. That had been the most embarrassing moment of her life. Even here, with only six other demigods, Piper felt exposed.
They’re my friends, she told herself. It’s okay.
But she had a strange feeling…as if more than six sets of eyes were watching her.
“Today on the highway,” she said, “Gaea told me that she needed the blood of only two demigods—one female, one male. She—she asked me to choose which boy would die.”
Jason squeezed her hand. “But neither of us died. You saved us.”
“I know. It’s just…Why would she want that?”
Leo whistled softly. “Guys, remember at the Wolf House? Our favorite ice princess, Khione? She talked about spilling Jason’s blood, how it would taint the place for generations. Maybe demigod blood has some kind of power.”
“Oh…” Percy set down his third pizza slice. He leaned back and stared at nothing, as if the horse kick to his head had just now registered.
“Percy?” Annabeth gripped his arm.
“Oh, bad,” he muttered. “Bad. Bad.” He looked across the table at Frank and Hazel. “You guys remember Polybotes?”
“The giant who invaded Camp Jupiter,” Hazel said. “The anti-Poseidon you whacked in the head with a Terminus statue. Yes, I think I remember.”
“I had a dream,” Percy said, “when we were flying to Alaska. Polybotes was talking to the gorgons, and he said—he said he wanted me taken prisoner, not killed. He said: ‘I want that one chained at my feet, so I can kill him when the time is ripe. His blood shall water the stones of Mount Olympus and wake Earth Mother!’”
Piper wondered if the room’s temperature controls were broken, because suddenly she couldn’t stop shaking. It was the same way she’d felt on the highway outside Topeka. “You think the giants would use our blood…the blood of two of us—”
“I don’t know,” Percy said. “But until we figure it out, I suggest we all try to avoid getting captured.”
Jason grunted. “That I agree with.”
“But how do we figure it out?” Hazel asked. “The Mark of Athena, the twins, Ella’s prophecy…how does it all fit together?”
Annabeth pressed her hands against the edge of the table. “Piper, you told Leo to set our course for Atlanta.”
“Right,” Piper said. “Bacchus told us we should seek out…what was his name?”
“Phorcys,” Percy said.
Annabeth looked surprised, like she wasn’t used to her boyfriend having the answers. “You know him?”
Percy shrugged. “I didn’t recognize the name at first. Then Bacchus mentioned salt water, and it rang a bell. Phorcys is an old sea god from before my dad’s time. Never met him, but supposedly he’s a son of Gaea. I still don’t understand what a sea god would be doing in Atlanta.”
Leo snorted. “What’s a wine god doing in Kansas? Gods are weird. Anyway, we should reach Atlanta by noon tomorrow, unless something else goes wrong.”
“Don’t even say that,” Annabeth muttered. “It’s getting late. We should all get some sleep.”
“Wait,” Piper said.
Once more, everyone looked at her.
She was rapidly losing her courage, wondering if her instincts were wrong, but she forced herself to speak.
“There’s one last thing,” she said. “The eidolons—the possessing spirits. They’re still here, in this room.”
Chapter 12
Piper couldn’t explain how she knew.
Stories of phantoms and tortured souls had always freaked her out. Her dad used to joke about Grandpa Tom’s Cherokee legends from back on the rez, but even at home in their big Malibu mansion, looking out over the Pacific, whenever her dad recounted the ghost stories for her, she could never get them out of her head.
Cherokee spirits were always restless. They often lost their way to the Land of the Dead, or stayed behind with the living out of sheer stubbornness. Sometimes they didn’t even realize they were dead.
The more Piper learned about being a demigod, the more convinced she was that Cherokee legends and Greek myths weren’t so different. These eidolons acted a lot like the spirits in her dad’s stories.
Piper had a gut sense they were still present, simply because no one had told them to go away.
When she was done explaining, the others looked at her uncomfortably. Up on deck, Hedge sang something that sounded like “In the Navy” while Blackjack stomped his hooves, whinnying in protest.
Finally Hazel exhaled. “Piper is right.”
“How can you be sure?” Annabeth asked.
“I’ve met eidolons,” Hazel said. “In the Underworld, when I was…you know.”
Dead.
Piper had forgotten that Hazel was a second-timer. In her own way, Hazel too was a ghost reborn.
“So…” Frank rubbed his hand across his buzz-cut hair as if some ghosts might have invaded his scalp. “You think these things are lurking on the ship, or—”
“Possibly lurking inside some of us,” Piper said. “We don’t know.”
Jason clenched his fist. “If that’s true—”
“We have to take steps,” Piper said. “I think I can do this.”