The Son of Neptune hoo-2

by Rick Riordan

  ‘Alcyoneus?’

  ‘I don’t think so. If he is truly invulnerable in Alaska, he’d be foolish to come here himself. It must be one of his brothers.’

  ‘Great,’ Percy said. ‘So we’ve got two giants to worry about.’

  The praetor nodded. ‘Lupa and her wolves are trying to slow them down, but this force is too strong even for them. The enemy will be here soon – by the Feast of Fortuna at the very latest.’

  Percy shuddered. He’d seen Lupa in action. He knew all about the wolf goddess and her pack. If this enemy was too powerful for Lupa, Camp Jupiter didn’t stand a chance.

  Reyna read his expression. ‘Yes, it’s bad, but not hopeless. If you succeed in bringing back our eagle, if you release Death so we can actually kill our enemies, then we stand a chance. And there’s one more possibility …’

  Reyna slid the silver ring across the table. ‘I can’t give you much help, but your journey will take you close to Seattle. I’m asking you for a favour, which may also help you. Find my sister, Hylla.’

  ‘Your sister … the one who hates me?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Reyna agreed. ‘She would love to kill you. But show her that ring as a token from me, and she may help you instead.’

  ‘May?’

  ‘I can’t speak for her. In fact …’ Reyna frowned. ‘In fact I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. She’s gone silent. With these armies passing through -’

  ‘You want me to check on her,’ Percy guessed. ‘Make sure she’s okay.’

  ‘Partially, yes. I can’t imagine she’s been overcome. My sister has a powerful force. Her territory is well defended. But if you can find her she could offer you valuable help. It could mean the difference between success and failure on your quest. And if you tell her what’s happening here -’

  ‘She might send help?’ Percy asked.

  Reyna didn’t answer, but Percy could see the desperation in her eyes. She was terrified, grasping for anything that could save her camp. No wonder she wanted Percy’s help. She was the only praetor. The defence of the camp rested on her shoulders alone.

  Percy took the ring. ‘I’ll find her. Where do I look? What kind of force does she have?’

  ‘Don’t worry. Just go to Seattle. They’ll find you.’

  That didn’t sound encouraging, but Percy slipped the ring onto his leather necklace with his beads and his probatio tablet. ‘Wish me luck.’

  ‘Fight well, Percy Jackson,’ Reyna said. ‘And thank you.’

  He could tell the audience was over. Reyna was having trouble holding herself together, keeping up the image of the confident commander. She needed some time by herself.

  But at the door of the principia, Percy couldn’t resist turning. ‘How did we destroy your home – that spa where you lived?’

  The metal greyhounds growled. Reyna snapped her fingers to silence them.

  ‘You destroyed the power of our mistress,’ she said. ‘You freed some prisoners who took revenge on all of us who lived on the island. My sister and I … well, we survived. It was difficult. But in the long run I think we are better off away from that place.’

  ‘Still, I’m sorry,’ Percy said. ‘If I hurt you, I’m sorry.’

  Reyna gazed at him for a long time, as if trying to translate his words. ‘An apology? Not very Roman at all, Percy Jackson. You’d make an interesting praetor. I hope you’ll think about my offer.’

  XVI

  Percy

  LUNCH FELT LIKE A FUNERAL PARTY. Everybody ate. People talked in hushed tones. Nobody seemed particularly happy. The other campers kept glancing over at Percy like he was the corpse of honour.

  Reyna made a brief speech wishing them luck. Octavian ripped open a Beanie Baby and pronounced grave omens and hard times ahead, but predicted the camp would be saved by an unexpected hero (whose initials were probably OCTAVIAN). Then the other campers went off to their afternoon classes – gladiator fighting, Latin lessons, paintball with ghosts, eagle training and a dozen other activities that sounded better than a suicide quest. Percy followed Hazel and Frank to the Barracks to pack.

  Percy didn’t have much. He’d cleaned up his backpack from his trip south and had kept most of his Bargain Mart supplies. He had a fresh pair of jeans and an extra purple T-shirt from the camp quartermaster, plus some nectar, ambrosia, snacks, a little mortal money and camping supplies. At lunch, Reyna had handed him a scroll of introduction from the praetor and camp senate. Supposedly, any retired legionnaires they met on the trip would help them if shown the letter. He also kept his leather necklace with the beads, the silver ring and the probatio tablet, and of course he had Riptide in his pocket. He folded his tattered orange T-shirt and left it on his bunk.

  ‘I’ll be back,’ he said. He felt pretty stupid talking to a T-shirt, but he was really thinking of Annabeth, and his old life. ‘I’m not leaving for good. But I have to help these guys. They took me in. They deserve to survive.’

  The T-shirt didn’t answer, thankfully.

  One of their roommates, Bobby, gave them a ride to the border of the valley on Hannibal the elephant. From the hilltops, Percy could see everything below. The Little Tiber snaked across golden pastures where the unicorns were grazing. The temples and forums of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. On the Field of Mars, engineers were hard at work, pulling down the remains of last night’s fort and setting up barricades for a game of deathball. A normal day for Camp Jupiter – but on the northern horizon, storm clouds were gathering. Shadows moved across the hills, and Percy imagined the face of Gaia getting closer and closer.

  Work with me for the future, Reyna had said. I intend to save this camp.

  Looking down at the valley, Percy understood why she cared so much. Even though he was new to Camp Jupiter, he felt a fierce desire to protect this place. A safe haven where demigods could build their lives – he wanted that to be part of his future. Maybe not the way Reyna imagined, but if he could share this place with Annabeth …

  They got off the elephant. Bobby wished them a safe journey. Hannibal wrapped the three questers with his trunk. Then the elephant taxi service headed back into the valley.

  Percy sighed. He turned to Hazel and Frank and tried to think of something upbeat to say.

  A familiar voice said, ‘IDs, please.’

  A statue of Terminus appeared at the summit of the hill. The god’s marble face frowned irritably. ‘Well? Come along!’

  ‘You again?’ Percy asked. ‘I thought you just guarded the city.’

  Terminus huffed. ‘Glad to see you, too, Mr Rule Flouter. Normally, yes, I guard the city, but for international departures I like to provide extra security at the camp borders. You really should’ve allowed two hours before your planned departure time, you know. But we’ll have to make do. Now, come over here so I can pat you down.’

  ‘But you don’t have -’ Percy stopped himself. ‘Uh, sure.’

  He stood next to the armless statue. Terminus conducted a rigorous mental pat down.

  ‘You seem to be clean,’ Terminus decided. ‘Do you have anything to declare?’

  ‘Yes,’ Percy said. ‘I declare this is stupid.’

  ‘Hmph! Probatio tablet: Percy Jackson, Fifth Cohort, son of Neptune. Fine, go. Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. Fine. Any foreign currency or, ahem, precious metals to declare?’

  ‘No,’ she muttered.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Terminus asked. ‘Because last time -’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, this is a grumpy bunch,’ said the god. ‘Quest travellers! Always in a rush. Now, let’s see – Frank Zhang. Ah! Centurion? Well done, Frank. And that haircut is regulation perfect. I approve! Off you go, then, Centurion Zhang. Do you need any directions today?’

  ‘No. No, I guess not.’

  ‘Just down to the BART station,’ Terminus said anyway. ‘Change trains at Twelfth Street in Oakland. You want Fruitvale Station. From there, you can walk or take the bus to Alameda.’

  ‘You guys don’t have a
magical BART train or something?’ Percy asked.

  ‘Magic trains!’ Terminus scoffed. ‘You’ll be wanting your own security lane and a pass to the executive lounge next. Just travel safely, and watch out for Polybotes. Talk about scofflaws – bah! I wish I could throttle him with my bare hands.’

  ‘Wait – who?’ Percy asked.

  Terminus made a straining expression, like he was flexing his nonexistent biceps. ‘Ah, well. Just be careful of him. I imagine he can smell a son of Neptune a mile away. Out you go, now. Good luck!’

  An invisible force kicked them across the boundary. When Percy looked back, Terminus was gone. In fact, the entire valley was gone. The Berkeley Hills seemed to be free of any Roman camp.

  Percy looked at his friends. ‘Any idea what Terminus was talking about? Watch out for … Political something or other?’

  ‘Poh-LIB-uh-tease?’ Hazel sounded out the name carefully. ‘Never heard of him.’

  ‘Sounds Greek,’ Frank said.

  ‘That narrows it down.’ Percy sighed. ‘Well, we probably just appeared on the smell radar for every monster within five miles. We’d better get moving.’

  It took them two hours to reach the docks in Alameda. Compared to Percy’s last few months, the trip was easy. No monsters attacked. Nobody looked at Percy like he was a homeless wild child.

  Frank had stored his spear, bow and quiver in a long bag made for skis. Hazel’s cavalry sword was wrapped in a bedroll slung on her back. Together the three of them looked like normal high schoolers on their way to an overnight trip. They walked to Rockridge Station, bought their tickets with mortal money, and hopped on the BART train.

  They got off in Oakland. They had to walk through some rough neighbourhoods, but nobody bothered them. Whenever the local gang members came close enough to look in Percy’s eyes, they quickly veered away. He’d perfected his wolf stare over the last few months – a look that said: However bad you think you are, I’m worse. After strangling sea monsters and running over gorgons in a police car, Percy wasn’t scared of gangs. Pretty much nothing in the mortal world scared him any more.

  In the late afternoon, they made it to the Alameda docks. Percy looked out over San Francisco Bay and breathed in the salty sea air. Immediately he felt better. This was his father’s domain. Whatever they faced, he’d have the upper hand as long as they were at sea.

  Dozens of boats were moored at the docks – everything from fifty-foot yachts to ten-foot fishing boats. He scanned the slips for some sort of magic vessel – a trireme, maybe, or a dragon-headed warship like he’d seen in his dreams.

  ‘Um … you guys know what we’re looking for?’

  Hazel and Frank shook their heads.

  ‘I didn’t even know we had a navy.’ Hazel sounded as if she wished there wasn’t one.

  ‘Oh …’ Frank pointed. ‘You don’t think … ?’

  At the end of the dock was a tiny boat, like a dinghy, covered in a purple tarp. Embroidered in faded gold along the canvas was S.P.Q.R.

  Percy’s confidence wavered. ‘No way.’

  He uncovered the boat, his hands working the knots like he’d been doing it his whole life. Under the tarp was an old steel rowboat with no oars. The boat had been painted dark blue at one point, but the hull was so crusted with tar and salt it looked like one massive nautical bruise.

  On the bow, the name Pax was still readable, lettered in gold. Painted eyes drooped sadly at the water level, as if the boat were about to fall asleep. On board were two benches, some steel wool, an old cooler, and a mound of frayed rope with one end tied to the mooring. At the bottom of the boat, a plastic bag and two empty Coke cans floated in several inches of scummy water.

  ‘Behold,’ Frank said. ‘The mighty Roman navy.’

  ‘There’s got to be a mistake,’ Hazel said. ‘This is a piece of junk.’

  Percy imagined Octavian laughing at them, but he decided not to let it get him down. The Pax was still a boat. He jumped aboard, and the hull hummed under his feet, responding to his presence. He gathered up the garbage in the cooler and put it on the dock. He willed the scummy water to flow over the sides and out of the boat. Then he pointed at the steel wool and it flew across the floor, scrubbing and polishing so fast, the steel began to smoke. When it was done, the boat was clean. Percy pointed at the rope, and it untied itself from the dock.

  No oars, but that didn’t matter. Percy could tell that the boat was ready to move, just awaiting his command.

  ‘This’ll do,’ he said. ‘Hop in.’

  Hazel and Frank looked a little stunned, but they climbed aboard. Hazel seemed especially nervous. When they had settled on the seats, Percy concentrated, and the boat slipped away from the dock.

  Juno was right, you know. The sleepy voice of Gaia whispered in Percy’s mind, startling him so badly the boat rocked. You could have chosen a new life in the sea. You would have been safe from me there. Now it’s too late. You chose pain and misery. You’re part of my plan, now – my important little pawn.

  ‘Get off my ship,’ Percy growled.

  ‘Uh, what?’ Frank asked.

  Percy waited, but the voice of Gaia was silent.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what this rowboat can do.’

  He turned the boat to the north, and in no time they were speeding along at fifteen knots, heading for the Golden Gate Bridge.

  XVII

  Hazel

  HAZEL HATED BOATS.

  She got seasick so easily it was more like sea plague. She hadn’t mentioned this to Percy. She didn’t want to mess up the quest, but she remembered how horrible her life had been when she and her mother had moved to Alaska – no roads. Everywhere they went, they’d had to take the train or a boat.

  She’d hoped her condition might have improved since she’d come back from the dead. Obviously not. And this little boat, the Pax, looked so much like that other boat they’d had in Alaska. It brought back bad memories …

  As soon as they left the dock, Hazel’s stomach started to churn. By the time they passed the piers along the San Francisco Embarcadero, she felt so woozy she thought she was hallucinating. They sped by a pack of sea lions lounging on the docks, and she swore she saw an old homeless guy sitting among them. From across the water, the old man pointed a bony finger at Percy and mouthed something like Don’t even think about it.

  ‘Did you see that?’ Hazel asked.

  Percy’s face was red in the sunset. ‘Yeah. I’ve been here before. I … I don’t know. I think I was looking for my girlfriend.’

  ‘Annabeth,’ Frank said. ‘You mean, on your way to Camp Jupiter?’

  Percy frowned. ‘No. Before that.’ He scanned the city like he was still looking for Annabeth until they passed under the Golden Gate Bridge and turned north.

  Hazel tried to settle her stomach by thinking of pleasant things – the euphoria she’d felt last night when they’d won the war games, riding Hannibal into the enemy keep, Frank’s sudden transformation into a leader. He’d looked like a different person when he’d scaled the walls, calling on the Fifth Cohort to attack. The way he’d swept the defenders off the battlements … Hazel had never seen him like that before. She’d been so proud to pin the centurion’s badge to his shirt.

  Then her thoughts turned to Nico. Before they had left, her brother had pulled her aside to wish her luck. Hazel hoped he’d stay at Camp Jupiter to help defend it, but he said he’d be leaving today – heading back to the Underworld.

  ‘Dad needs all the help he can get,’ he said. ‘The Fields of Punishment look like a prison riot. The Furies can barely keep order. Besides … I’m going to try to track some of the escaping souls. Maybe I can find the Doors of Death from the other side.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Hazel said. ‘If Gaia is guarding those doors -’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Nico smiled. ‘I know how to stay hidden. Just take care of yourself. The closer you get to Alaska … I’m not sure if it’ll make the blackouts better or worse.’
<
br />   Take care of myself, Hazel thought bitterly. As if there was any way the quest would end well for her.

  ‘If we free Thanatos,’ Hazel told Nico, ‘I may never see you again. Thanatos will send me back to the Underworld …’

  Nico took her hand. His fingers were so pale, it was hard to believe Hazel and he shared the same godly father.

  ‘I wanted to give you a chance at Elysium,’ he said. ‘That was the best I could do for you. But now I wish there was another way. I don’t want to lose my sister.’

  He didn’t say the word again, but Hazel knew that’s what he was thinking. For once, she didn’t feel jealous of Bianca di Angelo. She just wished that she had more time with Nico and her friends at camp. She didn’t want to die a second time.

  ‘Good luck, Hazel,’ he said. Then he melted into the shadows – just like her father had seventy years before.

  The boat shuddered, jolting Hazel back to the present. They entered the Pacific currents and skirted the rocky coastline of Marin County.

  Frank held his ski bag across his lap. It passed over Hazel’s knees like the safety bar on an amusement ride, which made her think of the time Sammy had taken her to the carnival during Mardi Gras … She quickly pushed that memory aside. She couldn’t risk a blackout.

  ‘You okay?’ Frank asked. ‘You look queasy.’

  ‘Seasickness,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t think it would be this bad.’

  Frank pouted like it was somehow his fault. He started digging in his pack. ‘I’ve got some nectar. And some crackers. Um, my grandmother says ginger helps … I don’t have any of that, but -’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Hazel mustered a smile. ‘That’s sweet of you, though.’

  Frank pulled out a saltine. It snapped in his big fingers. Cracker exploded everywhere.

  Hazel laughed. ‘Gods, Frank … Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.’