by Rick Riordan
She trickled unicorn draught into Blackjack’s mouth.
She lost track of time. The horse’s pulse became stronger and steadier. His eyes cleared of pain. His breathing eased.
By the time Reyna stood up, she was shaking with fear and exhaustion, but Blackjack was still alive.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ she promised. ‘I’ll get you help from Camp Half-Blood.’
Blackjack made a grumbling sound. Reyna could’ve sworn he tried to say doughnuts. She must have been going delirious.
Belatedly, she realized how much the sky had lightened. The Athena Parthenos gleamed in the sun. Guido and the other winged horses pawed the deck impatiently.
‘The battle …’ Reyna turned towards the shore but saw no signs of combat. A Greek trireme bobbed lazily in the morning tide. The hills looked green and peaceful.
For a moment, she wondered if the Romans had decided not to attack.
Perhaps Octavian had come to his senses. Perhaps Nico and the others had managed to win over the legion.
Then an orange glow illuminated the hilltops. Multiple streaks of fire climbed skyward like burning fingers.
The onagers had shot their first volley.
XLI
Piper
Piper wasn’t surprised when the snake people arrived.
All week, she’d been thinking about her encounter with Sciron the bandit, when she’d stood on the deck of the Argo II after escaping a gigantic Destructo-Turtle and made the mistake of saying, ‘We’re safe.’
Instantly an arrow had hit the mainmast, an inch in front of her nose.
Piper learned a valuable lesson from that: never assume you’re safe, and never, ever tempt the Fates by announcing that you think you’re safe.
So when the ship docked at the harbour in Piraeus, on the outskirts of Athens, Piper resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, they had finally reached their destination. Somewhere nearby – past those rows of cruise ships, past those hills crowded with buildings – they would find the Acropolis. Today, one way or another, their journey would end.
But that didn’t mean she could relax. Any moment, a nasty surprise might come flying out of nowhere.
As it turned out, the surprise was three dudes with snake tails instead of legs.
Piper was on watch while her friends geared up for combat – checking their weapons and armour, loading the ballistae and catapults. She spotted the snake guys slithering along the docks, winding through crowds of mortal tourists who paid them no attention.
‘Um … Annabeth?’ Piper called.
Annabeth and Percy came to her side.
‘Oh, great,’ Percy said. ‘Dracaenae.’
Annabeth narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t think so. At least not like any I’ve seen. Dracaenae have two serpent trunks for legs. These guys just have one.’
‘You’re right,’ Percy said. ‘These look more human on top, too. Not all scaly and green and stuff. So do we talk or fight?’
Piper was tempted to say fight. She couldn’t help thinking of the story she’d told Jason – about the Cherokee hunter who had broken his taboo and turned into a snake. These three looked like they’d been eating a lot of squirrel meat.
Weirdly, the one in the lead reminded Piper of her dad when he’d grown a beard for his role in King of Sparta. The snake man held his head high. His face was chiselled and bronze, his eyes black as basalt, his curly dark hair glistening with oil. His upper body rippled with muscles, covered only by a Greek chlamys – a white wool cloak loosely wrapped and pinned at the shoulder. From the waist down, his body was one giant serpent trunk – about eight feet of green tail undulating behind him as he moved.
In one hand he carried a staff topped with a glowing green jewel. In his other, he carried a platter covered with a silver dome, like a main course for a fancy dinner.
The two guys behind him appeared to be guards. They wore bronze breastplates and elaborate helmets topped with horsehair bristles. Their spears were tipped with green stone points. Their oval shields were emblazoned with a large Greek letter K – kappa.
They stopped a few yards from the Argo II. The leader looked up and studied the demigods. His expression was intense but inscrutable. He might have been angry or worried or terribly in need of a restroom.
‘Permission to come aboard.’ His rasping voice made Piper think of a straight razor being wiped across a strop – like in her grandfather’s barbershop back in Oklahoma.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
He fixed his dark eyes on her. ‘I am Kekrops, the first and eternal king of Athens. I would welcome you to my city.’ He held up the covered platter. ‘Also, I brought a Bundt cake.’
Piper glanced at her friends. ‘A trick?’
‘Probably,’ Annabeth said.
‘At least he brought dessert.’ Percy smiled down at the snake guys. ‘Welcome aboard!’
Kekrops agreed to leave his guards above deck with Buford the table, who ordered them to drop and give him twenty push-ups. The guards seemed to take this as a challenge.
Meanwhile, the king of Athens was invited to the mess hall for a ‘get to know you’ meeting.
‘Please take a seat,’ Jason offered.
Kekrops wrinkled his nose. ‘Snake people do not sit.’
‘Please remain standing,’ Leo said. He cut the cake and stuffed a piece in his mouth before Piper could warn him it might be poisoned, or inedible for mortals, or just plain bad.
‘Dang!’ He grinned. ‘Snake people know how to make Bundt cake. Kind of orangey, with a hint of honey. Needs a glass of milk.’
‘Snake people do not drink milk,’ Kekrops said. ‘We are lactose-intolerant reptiles.’
‘Me, too!’ Frank said. ‘I mean … lactose intolerant. Not a reptile. Though I can be a reptile sometimes –’
‘Anyway,’ Hazel interrupted, ‘King Kekrops, what brings you here? How did you know we’d arrived?’
‘I know everything that happens in Athens,’ Kekrops said. ‘I was the city’s founder, its first king, born of the earth. I am the one who judged the dispute between Athena and Poseidon, and chose Athena to be the patron of the city.’
‘No hard feelings, though,’ Percy muttered.
Annabeth elbowed him. ‘I’ve heard of you, Kekrops. You were the first to offer sacrifices to Athena. You built her first shrine on the Acropolis.’
‘Correct.’ Kekrops sounded bitter, like he regretted his decision. ‘My people were the original Athenians – the gemini.’
‘Like your zodiac sign?’ Percy asked. ‘I’m a Leo.’
‘No, stupid,’ Leo said. ‘I’m a Leo. You’re a Percy.’
‘Will you two stop it?’ Hazel chided. ‘I think he means gemini like doubled – half man, half snake. That’s what his people are called. He’s a geminus, singular.’
‘Yes …’ Kekrops leaned away from Hazel as if she somehow offended him. ‘Millennia ago, we were driven underground by the two-legged humans, but I know the ways of the city better than any. I came to warn you. If you try to approach the Acropolis aboveground, you will be destroyed.’
Jason stopped nibbling his cake. ‘You mean … by you?’
‘By Porphyrion’s armies,’ said the snake king. ‘The Acropolis is ringed with great siege weapons – onagers.’
‘More onagers?’ Frank protested. ‘Did they have a sale on them or something?’
‘The Cyclopes,’ Hazel guessed. ‘They’re supplying both Octavian and the giants.’
Percy grunted. ‘Like we needed more proof that Octavian is on the wrong side.’
‘That is not the only threat,’ Kekrops warned. ‘The air is filled with storm spirits and gryphons. All roads to the Acropolis are patrolled by the Earthborn.’
Frank drummed his fingers on the Bundt cake cover. ‘So, what, we should just give up? We’ve come too far for that.’
‘I offer you an alternative,’ said Kekrops. ‘Underground passage to the Acropolis. For the sake of At
hena, for the sake of the gods, I will help you.’
The back of Piper’s neck tingled. She remembered what the giantess Periboia had said in her dream: that the demigods would find friends in Athens as well as enemies. Perhaps the giantess had meant Kekrops and his snake people. But there was something in Kekrops’s voice that Piper didn’t like – that razor-against-strop tone, as if he were preparing to make a sharp cut.
‘What’s the catch?’ she asked.
Kekrops turned those inscrutable dark eyes on her. ‘Only a small party of demigods – no more than three – could pass undetected by the giants. Otherwise your scent would give you away. But our underground passages could lead you straight into the ruins of the Acropolis. Once there, you could disable the siege weapons by stealth and allow the rest of your crew to approach. With luck, you could take the giants by surprise. You might be able to disrupt their ceremony.’
‘Ceremony?’ Leo asked. ‘Oh … like, to wake Gaia.’
‘Even now it has begun,’ Kekrops warned. ‘Can you not feel the earth trembling? We, the gemini, are your best chance.’
Piper heard eagerness in his voice – almost hunger.
Percy looked around the table. ‘Any objections?’
‘Just a few,’ Jason said. ‘We’re on the enemy’s doorstep. We’re being asked to split up. Isn’t that how people get killed in horror movies?’
‘Also,’ Percy said, ‘Gaia wants us to reach the Parthenon. She wants our blood to water the stones and all that other psycho garbage. Won’t we be playing right into her hands?’
Annabeth caught Piper’s eye. She asked a silent question: What’s your feeling?
Piper still wasn’t used to that – the way Annabeth looked to her for advice now. Ever since Sparta, they’d learned that they could tackle problems together from two different sides. Annabeth saw the logical thing, the tactical move. Piper had gut reactions that were anything but logical. Together, they either solved the problem twice as fast, or they hopelessly confused each other.
Kekrops’s offer made sense. At least, it sounded like the least suicidal option. But Piper was certain the snake king was hiding his true intentions. She just didn’t know how to prove it …
Then she remembered something her father had told her years ago: You were named Piper because Grandpa Tom thought you would have a powerful voice. You would learn all the Cherokee songs, even the song of the snakes.
A myth from a totally different culture, yet here she was, facing the king of the snake people.
She began to sing: ‘Summertime’, one of her dad’s favourites.
Kekrops stared at her in wonder. He began to sway.
At first Piper was self-conscious, singing in front of all her friends and a snake guy. Her dad had always told her she had a good voice, but she didn’t like to draw attention to herself. She didn’t even like to participate at campfire sing-alongs. Now her words filled the mess hall. Everyone listened, transfixed.
She finished the first verse. No one spoke for a count of five.
‘Pipes,’ Jason said, ‘I had no idea.’
‘That was beautiful,’ Leo agreed. ‘Maybe not … you know, Calypso beautiful, but still …’
Piper kept the snake king’s gaze. ‘What are your real intentions?’
‘To deceive you,’ he said in a trance, still swaying. ‘We hope to lead you into the tunnels and destroy you.’
‘Why?’ Piper asked.
‘The Earth Mother has promised us great rewards. If we spill your blood under the Parthenon, that will be sufficient to complete her awakening.’
‘But you serve Athena,’ Piper said. ‘You founded her city.’
Kekrops made a low hiss. ‘And in return the goddess abandoned me. Athena replaced me with a two-legged human king. She drove my daughters mad. They leaped to their deaths from the cliffs of the Acropolis. The original Athenians, the gemini, were driven underground and forgotten. Athena, the goddess of wisdom, turned her back on us, but wisdom comes from the earth as well. We are, first and last, the children of Gaia. The Earth Mother has promised us a place in the sun of the upper world.’
‘Gaia is lying,’ Piper said. ‘She intends to destroy the upper world, not give it to anyone.’
Kekrops bared his fangs. ‘Then we will be no worse off than we were under the treacherous gods!’
He raised his staff, but Piper launched into another verse of ‘Summertime’.
The snake king’s arms went limp. His eyes glassed over.
Piper sang a few more lines, then she risked another question: ‘The giants’ defences, the underground passage to the Acropolis – how much of what you told us is true?’
‘All of it,’ Kekrops said. ‘The Acropolis is heavily defended, just as I described. Any approach aboveground would be impossible.’
‘So you could guide us through your tunnels,’ Piper said. ‘That’s also true?’
Kekrops frowned. ‘Yes …’
‘And if you ordered your people not to attack us,’ she said, ‘they would obey?’
‘Yes, but …’ Kekrops shuddered. ‘Yes, they would obey. Three of you at most could go without attracting the attention of the giants.’
Annabeth’s eyes darkened. ‘Piper, we’d be crazy to try it. He’ll kill us at the first opportunity.’
‘Yes,’ the snake king agreed. ‘Only this girl’s music controls me. I hate it. Please, sing some more.’
Piper gave him another verse.
Leo got into the act. He picked up a couple of spoons and made them do high kicks on the tabletop until Hazel slapped his arm.
‘I should go,’ Hazel said, ‘if it’s underground.’
‘Never,’ Kekrops said. ‘A child of the Underworld? My people would find your presence revolting. No charming music would keep them from slaying you.’
Hazel swallowed. ‘Or I could stay here.’
‘Me and Percy,’ Annabeth suggested.
‘Um …’ Percy raised his hand. ‘Just gonna throw this out here again. That’s exactly what Gaia wants – you and me, our blood watering the stones, et cetera.’
‘I know.’ Annabeth’s expression was grim. ‘But it’s the most logical choice. The oldest shrines on the Acropolis are dedicated to Poseidon and Athena. Kekrops, wouldn’t that mask our approach?’
‘Yes,’ the snake king admitted. ‘Your … your scent would be difficult to discern. The ruins always radiate the power of those two gods.’
‘And me,’ Piper said at the end of her song. ‘You’ll need me to keep our friend here in line.’
Jason squeezed her hand. ‘I still hate the idea of splitting up.’
‘But it’s our best shot,’ Frank said. ‘The three of them sneak in and disable the onagers, cause a distraction. Then the rest of us fly in with ballistae blazing.’
‘Yes,’ Kekrops said, ‘that plan could work. If I do not kill you first.’
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Annabeth said. ‘Frank, Hazel, Leo … let’s talk. Piper, can you keep our friend musically incapacitated?’
Piper started a different song: ‘Happy Trails’, a silly tune her dad used to sing to her whenever they left Oklahoma to return to L.A. Annabeth, Leo, Frank and Hazel left to talk strategy.
‘Well.’ Percy rose and offered his hand to Jason. ‘Until we meet again at the Acropolis, bro. I’ll be the one killing giants.’
XLII
Piper
Piper’s dad used to say that being in the airport didn’t count as visiting a city. Piper felt the same way about sewers.
From the port to the Acropolis, she didn’t see anything of Athens except dark, putrid tunnels. The snake men led them through an iron storm grate at the docks, straight into their underground lair, which smelled of rotting fish, mould and snakeskin.
The atmosphere made it hard to sing about summertime and cotton and easy living, but Piper kept it up. If she stopped for longer than a minute or two, Kekrops and his guards started hissing and looking angry.
�
�I don’t like this place,’ Annabeth murmured. ‘Reminds me of when I was underneath Rome.’
Kekrops hissed with laughter. ‘Our domain is much older. Much, much older.’
Annabeth slipped her hand into Percy’s, which made Piper feel downhearted. She wished Jason were with her. Heck, she’d even settle for Leo … though maybe she wouldn’t have held his hand. Leo’s hands tended to burst into flames when he was nervous.
Piper’s voice echoed through the tunnels. As they travelled further into the lair, more snake people gathered to hear her. Soon they had a procession following behind them – dozens of gemini all swaying and slithering.
Piper had lived up to her granddad’s prediction. She had learned the song of the snakes – which turned out to be a George Gershwin number from 1935. So far she had even kept the snake king from biting, just like in the old Cherokee story. The only problem with that legend: the warrior who learned the snake song had to sacrifice his wife for the power. Piper didn’t want to sacrifice anyone.
The vial of physician’s cure was still wrapped in its chamois cloth, tucked in her belt pouch. She hadn’t had time to consult with Jason and Leo before she left. She just had to hope they would all be reunited on the hilltop before anyone needed the cure. If one of them died and she couldn’t reach them …
Just keep singing, she told herself.
They passed through crude stone chambers littered with bones. They climbed slopes so steep and slippery it was nearly impossible to keep their footing. At one point, they passed a warm cave the size of a gymnasium filled with snake eggs, their tops covered with a layer of silver filaments like slimy Christmas tinsel.
More and more snake people joined their procession. Slithering behind her, they sounded like an army of football players shuffling with sandpaper on their cleats.
Piper wondered how many gemini lived down here. Hundreds, maybe thousands.
She thought she heard her own heartbeat echoing through the corridors, getting louder and louder the deeper they went. Then she realized the persistent boom ba-boom was all around them, resonating through the stone and the air.
I wake. A woman’s voice, as clear as Piper’s singing.