The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus, Book Three)

by Rick Riordan

  Hazel gripped her cavalry sword. “Is he—do you know where he is?”

  Aphros shook his head. “Not exactly. But when you get closer, you should be able to sense his presence. Never fear! You must reach Rome the day after tomorrow if you are to save him, but there is still time. And you must save him.”

  “Yes,” Bythos agreed. “He will be essential for your journey. I am not sure how, but I sense it is true.”

  Aphros planted his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “As for you, Leo Valdez, stay close to Hazel and Frank when you reach Rome. I sense they will face…ah, mechanical difficulties that only you can overcome.”

  “Mechanical difficulties?” Leo asked.

  Aphros smiled as if that was great news. “And I have gifts for you, the brave navigator of the Argo II!”

  “I like to think of myself as captain,” Leo said. “Or supreme commander.”

  “Brownies!” Aphros said proudly, shoving an old-fashioned picnic basket into Leo’s arms. It was surrounded by a bubble of air, which Leo hoped would keep the brownies from turning into saltwater fudge sludge. “In this basket you will also find the recipe. Not too much butter! That’s the trick. And I’ve given you a letter of introduction to Tiberinus, the god of the Tiber River. Once you reach Rome, your friend the daughter of Athena will need this.”

  “Annabeth…” Leo said. “Okay, but why?”

  Bythos laughed. “She follows the Mark of Athena, doesn’t she? Tiberinus can guide her in this quest. He’s an ancient, proud god who can be…difficult; but letters of introduction are everything to Roman spirits. This will convince Tiberinus to help her. Hopefully.”

  “Hopefully,” Leo repeated.

  Bythos produced three small pink pearls from his saddlebags. “And now, off with you, demigods! Good sailing!”

  He threw a pearl at each of them in turn, and three shimmering pink bubbles of energy formed around them.

  They began to rise through the water. Leo just had time to think: A hamster ball elevator? Then he gained speed and rocketed toward the distant glow of the sun above.

  PIPER HAD A NEW ENTRY in her top-ten list of Times Piper Felt Useless.

  Fighting Shrimpzilla with a dagger and a pretty voice? Not so effective. Then the monster had sunk into the deep and disappeared along with three of her friends, and she’d been powerless to help them.

  Afterward, Annabeth, Coach Hedge, and Buford the table rushed around repairing things so that the ship wouldn’t sink. Percy, despite being exhausted, searched the ocean for their missing friends. Jason, also exhausted, flew around the rigging like a blond Peter Pan, putting out fires from the second green explosion that had lit up the sky just above the mainmast.

  As for Piper, all she could do was stare at her knife Katoptris, trying to locate Leo, Hazel, and Frank. The only images that came to her were ones she didn’t want to see: three black SUVs driving north from Charleston, packed with Roman demigods, Reyna sitting at the wheel of the lead car. Giant eagles escorted them from above. Every so often, glowing purple spirits in ghostly chariots appeared out of the countryside and fell in behind them, thundering up I-95 toward New York and Camp Half-Blood.

  Piper concentrated harder. She saw the nightmarish images she had seen before: the human-headed bull rising from the water, then the dark well-shaped room filling with black water as Jason, Percy, and she struggled to stay afloat.

  She sheathed Katoptris, wondering how Helen of Troy had stayed sane during the Trojan War, if this blade had been her only source of news. Then she remembered that everyone around Helen had been slaughtered by the invading Greek army. Maybe she hadn’t stayed sane.

  By the time the sun rose, none of them had slept. Percy had scoured the seafloor and found nothing. The Argo II was no longer in danger of sinking, though without Leo, they couldn’t do full repairs. The ship was capable of sailing, but no one suggested leaving the area—not without their missing friends.

  Piper and Annabeth sent a dream vision to Camp Half-Blood, warning Chiron of what had happened with the Romans at Fort Sumter. Annabeth explained her exchange of words with Reyna. Piper relayed the vision from her knife about the SUVs racing north. The kindly centaur’s face seemed to age thirty years during the course of their conversation, but he assured them he would see to the defenses of the camp. Tyson, Mrs. O’Leary, and Ella had arrived safely. If necessary, Tyson could summon an army of Cyclopes to the camp’s defense, and Ella and Rachel Dare were already comparing prophecies, trying to learn more about what the future held. The job of the seven demigods aboard the Argo II, Chiron reminded them, was to finish the quest and come back safely.

  After the Iris-message, the demigods paced the deck in silence, staring at the water and hoping for a miracle.

  When it finally came—three giant pink bubbles bursting at the surface off the starboard bow and ejecting Frank, Hazel, and Leo—Piper went a little crazy. She cried out with relief and dove straight into the water.

  What was she thinking? She didn’t take a rope or a life vest or anything. But at the moment, she was just so happy that she paddled over to Leo and kissed him on the cheek, which kind of surprised him.

  “Miss me?” Leo laughed.

  Piper was suddenly furious. “Where were you? How are you guys alive?”

  “Long story,” he said. A picnic basket bobbed to the surface next to him. “Want a brownie?”

  Once they got on board and changed into dry clothes (poor Frank had to borrow a pair of too-small pants from Jason) the crew all gathered on the quarterdeck for a celebratory breakfast—except for Coach Hedge, who grumbled that the atmosphere was getting too cuddly for his tastes and went below to hammer out some dents in the hull. While Leo fussed over his helm controls, Hazel and Frank related the story of the fish-centaurs and their training camp.

  “Incredible,” Jason said. “These are really good brownies.”

  “That’s your only comment?” Piper demanded.

  He looked surprised. “What? I heard the story. Fish-centaurs. Merpeople. Letter of intro to the Tiber River god. Got it. But these brownies—”

  “I know,” Frank said, his mouth full. “Try them with Esther’s peach preserves.”

  “That,” Hazel said, “is incredibly disgusting.”

  “Pass me the jar, man,” Jason said.

  Hazel and Piper exchanged a look of total exasperation. Boys.

  Percy, for his part, wanted to hear every detail about the aquatic camp. He kept coming back to one point: “They didn’t want to meet me?”

  “It wasn’t that,” Hazel said. “Just…undersea politics, I guess. The merpeople are territorial. The good news is they’re taking care of that aquarium in Atlanta. And they’ll help protect the Argo II as we cross the Atlantic.”

  Percy nodded absently. “But they didn’t want to meet me?”

  Annabeth swatted his arm. “Come on, Seaweed Brain! We’ve got other things to worry about.”

  “She’s right,” Hazel said. “After today, Nico has less than two days. The fish-centaurs said we have to rescue him. He’s essential to the quest somehow.”

  She looked around defensively, as if waiting for someone to argue. No one did. Piper tried to imagine what Nico di Angelo was feeling, stuck in a jar with only two pomegranate seeds left to sustain him, and no idea whether he would be rescued. It made Piper anxious to reach Rome, even though she had a horrible feeling she was sailing toward her own sort of prison—a dark room filled with water.

  “Nico must have information about the Doors of Death,” Piper said. “We’ll save him, Hazel. We can make it in time. Right, Leo?”

  “What?” Leo tore his eyes away from the controls. “Oh, yeah. We should reach the Mediterranean tomorrow morning. Then spend the rest of that day sailing to Rome, or flying, if I can get the stabilizer fixed by then.…”

  Jason suddenly looked as though his brownie with peach preserves didn’t taste so good. “Which will put us in Rome on the last possible day for Nico. Twenty-four hours t
o find him—at most.”

  Percy crossed his legs. “And that’s only part of the problem. There’s the Mark of Athena, too.”

  Annabeth didn’t seem happy with the change of topic. She rested her hand on her backpack, which, since they’d left Charleston, she always seemed to have with her.

  She opened the bag and brought out a thin bronze disk the diameter of a donut. “This is the map that I found at Fort Sumter. It’s…”

  She stopped abruptly, staring at the smooth bronze surface. “It’s blank!”

  Percy took it and examined both sides. “It wasn’t like this earlier?”

  “No! I was looking at it in my cabin and…” Annabeth muttered under her breath. “It must be like the Mark of Athena. I can only see it when I’m alone. It won’t show itself to other demigods.”

  Frank scooted back like the disk might explode. He had an orange-juice mustache and a brownie-crumb beard that made Piper want to hand him a napkin.

  “What did it have on it?” Frank asked nervously. “And what is the Mark of Athena? I still don’t get it.”

  Annabeth took the disk from Percy. She turned it in the sunlight, but it remained blank. “The map was hard to read, but it showed a spot on the Tiber River in Rome. I think that’s where my quest starts…the path I’ve got to take to follow the Mark.”

  “Maybe that’s where you meet the river god Tiberinus,” Piper said. “But what is the Mark?”

  “The coin,” Annabeth murmured.

  Percy frowned. “What coin?”

  Annabeth dug into her pocket and brought out a silver drachma. “I’ve been carrying this ever since I saw my mom at Grand Central. It’s an Athenian coin.”

  She passed it around. While each demigod looked at it, Piper had a ridiculous memory of show-and-tell in elementary school.

  “An owl,” Leo noted. “Well, that makes sense. I guess the branch is an olive branch? But what’s this inscription, ΑΘΕ—Area Of Effect?”

  “It’s alpha, theta, epsilon,” Annabeth said. “In Greek it stands for Of The Athenians…or you could read it as the children of Athena. It’s sort of the Athenian motto.”

  “Like SPQR for the Romans,” Piper guessed.

  Annabeth nodded. “Anyway, the Mark of Athena is an owl, just like that one. It appears in fiery red. I’ve seen it in my dreams. Then twice at Fort Sumter.”

  She described what had happened at the fort—the voice of Gaea, the spiders in the garrison, the Mark burning them away. Piper could tell it wasn’t easy for her to talk about.

  Percy took Annabeth’s hand. “I should have been there for you.”

  “But that’s the point,” Annabeth said. “No one can be there for me. When I get to Rome, I’ll have to strike out on my own. Otherwise, the Mark won’t appear. I’ll have to follow it to…to the source.”

  Frank took the coin from Leo. He stared at the owl. “The giants’ bane stands gold and pale, Won with pain from a woven jail.” He looked up at Annabeth. “What is it…this thing at the source?”

  Before Annabeth could answer, Jason spoke up.

  “A statue,” he said. “A statue of Athena. At least…that’s my guess.”

  Piper frowned. “You said you didn’t know.”

  “I don’t. But the more I think about it…there’s only one artifact that could fit the legend.” He turned to Annabeth. “I’m sorry. I should have told you everything I’ve heard, much earlier. But honestly, I was scared. If this legend is true—”

  “I know,” Annabeth said. “I figured it out, Jason. I don’t blame you. But if we manage to save the statue, Greek and Romans together…Don’t you see? It could heal the rift.”

  “Hold on.” Percy made a time-out gesture. “What statue?”

  Annabeth took back the silver coin and slipped it into her pocket. “The Athena Parthenos,” she said. “The most famous Greek statue of all time. It was forty feet tall, covered in ivory and gold. It stood in the middle of the Parthenon in Athens.”

  The ship went silent, except for the waves lapping against the hull.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” Leo said at last. “What happened to it?”

  “It disappeared,” Annabeth said.

  Leo frowned. “How does a forty-foot-tall statue in the middle of the Parthenon just disappear?”

  “That’s a good question,” Annabeth said. “It’s one of the biggest mysteries in history. Some people thought the statue was melted down for its gold, or destroyed by invaders. Athens was sacked a number of times. Some thought the statue was carried off—”

  “By Romans,” Jason finished. “At least, that’s one theory, and it fits the legend I heard at Camp Jupiter. To break the Greeks’ spirit, the Romans carted off the Athena Parthenos when they took over the city of Athens. They hid it in an underground shrine in Rome. The Roman demigods swore it would never see the light of day. They literally stole Athena, so she could no longer be the symbol of Greek military power. She became Minerva, a much tamer goddess.”

  “And the children of Athena have been searching for the statue ever since,” Annabeth said. “Most don’t know about the legend, but in each generation, a few are chosen by the goddess. They’re given a coin like mine. They follow the Mark of Athena…a kind of magical trail that links them to the statue…hoping to find the resting place of the Athena Parthenos and get the statue back.”

  Piper watched the two of them—Annabeth and Jason—with quiet amazement. They spoke like a team, without any hostility or blame. The two of them had never really trusted each other. Piper was close enough to both of them to know that. But now…if they could discuss such a huge problem so calmly—the ultimate source of Greek/Roman hatred—maybe there was hope for the two camps, after all.

  Percy seemed be having similar thoughts, judging from his surprised expression. “So if we—I mean you—find the statue…what would we do with it? Could we even move it?”

  “I’m not sure,” Annabeth admitted. “But if we could save it somehow, it could unite the two camps. It could heal my mother of this hatred she’s got, tearing her two aspects apart. And maybe…maybe the statue has some sort of power that could help us against the giants.”

  Piper stared at Annabeth with awe, just starting to appreciate the huge responsibility her friend had taken on. And Annabeth meant to do it alone.

  “This could change everything,” Piper said. “It could end thousands of years of hostility. It might be the key to defeating Gaea. But if we can’t help you…”

  She didn’t finish, but the question seemed to hang in the air: Was saving the statue even possible?

  Annabeth squared her shoulders. Piper knew she must be terrified inside, but she did a good job hiding it.

  “I have to succeed,” Annabeth said simply. “The risk is worth it.”

  Hazel twirled her hair pensively. “I don’t like the idea of you risking your life alone, but you’re right. We saw what recovering the golden eagle standard did for the Roman legion. If this statue is the most powerful symbol of Athena ever created—”

  “It could kick some serious booty,” Leo offered.

  Hazel frowned. “That wasn’t the way I’d put it, but yes.”

  “Except…” Percy took Annabeth’s hand again. “No child of Athena has ever found it. Annabeth, what’s down there? What’s guarding it? If it’s got to do with spiders—?”

  “Won through pain from a woven jail,” Frank recalled. “Woven, like webs?”

  Annabeth’s face turned as white as printer paper. Piper suspected that Annabeth knew what awaited her…or at least that she had a very good idea. She was trying to hold down a wave of panic and terror.

  “We’ll deal with that when we get to Rome,” Piper suggested, putting a little charmspeak in her voice to soothe her friend’s nerves. “It’s going to work out. Annabeth is going to kick some serious booty, too. You’ll see.”

  “Yeah,” Percy said. “I learned a long time ago: Never bet against Annabeth.”

  Annabeth looked
at them both gratefully.

  Judging from their half-eaten breakfasts, the others still felt uneasy; but Leo managed to shake them out of it. He pushed a button, and a loud blast of steam exploded from Festus’s mouth, making everyone jump.

  “Well!” he said. “Good pep rally, but there’s still a ton of things to fix on this ship before we get to the Mediterranean. Please report to Supreme Commander Leo for your superfun list of chores!”

  Piper and Jason took charge of cleaning the lower deck, which had been thrown into chaos during the monster attack. Reorganizing sickbay and battening down the storage area took them most of the day, but Piper didn’t mind. For one thing, she got to spend time with Jason. For another, last night’s explosions had given Piper a healthy respect for Greek fire. She didn’t want any loose vials of that stuff rolling through the corridors in the middle of the night.

  As they were fixing up the stables, Piper thought about the night Annabeth and Percy had spent down here accidentally. Piper wished that she could talk with Jason all night—just curl up on the stable floor and enjoy being with him. Why didn’t they get to break the rules?

  But Jason wasn’t like that. He was hardwired to be a leader and set a good example. Breaking the rules didn’t come naturally to him.

  No doubt Reyna admired that about him. Piper did too…mostly.

  The one time she’d convinced him to be a rebel was back at the Wilderness School, when they had sneaked onto the roof at night to watch a meteor shower. That’s where they’d had their first kiss.

  Unfortunately, that memory was a trick of the Mist, a magical lie implanted in her head by Hera. Piper and Jason were together now, in real life, but their relationship had been founded on an illusion. If Piper tried to get the real Jason to sneak out at night, would he do it?

  She swept the hay into piles. Jason fixed a broken door on one of the stables. The glass floor hatch glowed from the ocean below—a green expanse of light and shadow that seemed to go down forever. Piper kept glancing over, afraid she’d see a monster’s face peeping in, or the water cannibals from her grandfather’s old stories; but all she saw was an occasional school of herring.