‘I’ll try.’ Clovis fumbled for a cup of hot chocolate on the side table. ‘Uh, before you go, do you have a second?’
‘Clovis, this is a dream,’ Nico reminded him. ‘Time is fluid.’
Even as he said it, Nico worried about what was happening in the real world. His physical self might be plummeting to his death, or surrounded by monsters. Still, he couldn’t force himself to wake up – not after the amount of energy he’d expended on shadow-travel.
Clovis nodded. ‘Right … I was thinking you should probably see what happened today at the council of war. I slept through some of it, but –’
‘Show me,’ Nico said.
The scene changed. Nico found himself in the rec room of the Big House, all the senior camp leaders gathered around the ping-pong table.
At one end sat Chiron the centaur, his equine posterior collapsed into his magic wheelchair so he looked like a regular human. His curly brown hair and beard had more grey streaks than a few months ago. Deep lines etched his face.
‘– things we can’t control,’ he was saying. ‘Now let’s review our defences. Where do we stand?’
Clarisse from the Ares cabin sat forward. She was the only one in full armour, which was typical. Clarisse probably slept in her combat gear. As she spoke, she gestured with her dagger, which made the other counsellors lean away from her.
‘Our defensive line is mostly solid,’ she said. ‘The campers are as ready to fight as they’ll ever be. We control the beach. Our triremes are unchallenged on Long Island Sound, but those stupid giant eagles dominate our airspace. Inland, in all three directions, the barbarians have us completely cut off.’
‘They’re Romans,’ said Rachel Dare, doodling with a marker on the knee of her jeans. ‘Not barbarians.’
Clarisse pointed her dagger at Rachel. ‘What about their allies, huh? Did you see that tribe of two-headed men that arrived yesterday? Or the glowing red dog-headed guys with the big poleaxes? They look pretty barbaric to me. It would’ve been nice if you’d foreseen any of that, if your Oracle power didn’t break down when we needed it most!’
Rachel’s face turned as red as her hair. ‘That’s hardly my fault. Something is wrong with Apollo’s gifts of prophecy. If I knew how to fix it –’
‘She’s right.’ Will Solace, head counsellor for the Apollo cabin, put his hand gently on Clarisse’s wrist. Not many campers could’ve done that without getting stabbed, but Will had a way of defusing people’s anger. He got her to lower her dagger. ‘Everyone in our cabin has been affected. It’s not just Rachel.’
Will’s shaggy blond hair and pale blue eyes reminded Nico of Jason Grace, but the similarities ended there.
Jason was a fighter. You could tell from the intensity of his stare, his constant alertness, the coiled-up energy in his frame. Will Solace was more like a lanky cat stretched out in the sunshine. His movements were relaxed and nonthreatening, his gaze soft and far away. In his faded SURF BARBADOS T-shirt, his cutoff shorts and flip-flops, he looked about as unaggressive as a demigod could get, but Nico knew he was brave under fire. During the Battle of Manhattan, Nico had seen him in action – the camp’s best combat medic, risking his life to save wounded campers.
‘We don’t know what’s going on at Delphi,’ Will continued. ‘My dad hasn’t answered any prayers, or appeared in any dreams … I mean, all the gods have been silent, but this isn’t like Apollo. Something’s wrong.’
Across the table, Jake Mason grunted. ‘Probably this Roman dirt-wipe who’s leading the attack – Octavian what’s-his-name. If I was Apollo and my descendant was acting that way, I’d go into hiding out of shame.’
‘I agree,’ Will said. ‘I wish I was a better archer … I wouldn’t mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father’s gifts to stop this war.’ He looked down at his own hands with distaste. ‘Unfortunately, I’m just a healer.’
‘Your talents are essential,’ Chiron said. ‘I fear we’ll need them soon enough. As for seeing the future … what about the harpy Ella? Has she offered any advice from the Sibylline Books?’
Rachel shook her head. ‘The poor thing is scared out of her wits. Harpies hate being imprisoned. Ever since the Romans surrounded us … well, she feels trapped. She knows Octavian means to capture her. It’s all Tyson and I can do to keep her from flying away.’
‘Which would be suicide.’ Butch Walker, son of Iris, crossed his burly arms. ‘With those Roman eagles in the air, flying isn’t safe. I’ve already lost two pegasi.’
‘At least Tyson brought some of his Cyclops friends to help out,’ Rachel said. ‘That’s a little good news.’
Over by the refreshment table, Connor Stoll laughed. He had a fistful of Ritz crackers in one hand and a can of Easy Cheese in the other. ‘A dozen full-grown Cyclopes? That’s a lot of good news! Plus, Lou Ellen and the Hecate kids have been putting up magic barriers, and the whole Hermes cabin has been lining the hills with traps and snares and all kinds of nice surprises for the Romans!’
Jake Mason frowned. ‘Most of which you stole from Bunker Nine and the Hephaestus cabin.’
Clarisse grumbled in agreement. ‘They even stole the landmines from around the Ares cabin. How do you steal live landmines?’
‘We commandeered them for the war effort.’ Connor sprayed a glob of Easy Cheese into his mouth. ‘Besides, you guys have plenty of toys. You can share!’
Chiron turned to his left, where the satyr Grover Underwood sat in silence, fingering his reed pipes. ‘Grover? What news from the nature spirits?’
Grover heaved a sigh. ‘Even on a good day, it’s hard to organize nymphs and dryads. With Gaia stirring, they’re almost as disoriented as the gods. Katie and Miranda from the Demeter cabin are out there right now trying to help, but if the Earth Mother wakes …’ He looked around the table nervously. ‘Well, I can’t promise the woods will be safe. Or the hills. Or the strawberry fields. Or –’
‘Great.’ Jake Mason elbowed Clovis, who was starting to nod off. ‘So what do we do?’
‘Attack.’ Clarisse pounded the ping-pong table, which made everyone flinch. ‘The Romans are getting more reinforcements by the day. We know they plan to invade on August first. Why should we let them set the timetable? I can only guess they’re waiting to gather more forces. They already outnumber us. We should attack now, before they get any stronger; take the fight to them!’
Malcolm, the acting head counsellor for Athena, coughed into his fist. ‘Clarisse, I get your point. But have you studied Roman engineering? Their temporary camp is better defended than Camp Half-Blood. Attack them at their base, and we’d be massacred.’
‘So we just wait?’ Clarisse demanded. ‘Let them get all their forces prepared while Gaia gets closer to waking? I have Coach Hedge’s pregnant wife under my protection. I am not going to let anything happen to her. I owe Hedge my life. Besides, I’ve been training the campers more than you have, Malcolm. Their morale is low. Everybody is scared. If we’re under siege another nine days –’
‘We should stick to Annabeth’s plan.’ Connor Stoll looked about as serious as he ever did, despite the Easy Cheese around his mouth. ‘We have to hold out until she gets that magic Athena statue back here.’
Clarisse rolled her eyes. ‘You mean if that Roman praetor gets the statue back here. I don’t understand what Annabeth was thinking, collaborating with the enemy. Even if the Roman manages to bring us the statue – which is impossible – we’re supposed to trust that will bring peace? The statue arrives and suddenly the Romans lay down their weapons and start dancing around, throwing flowers?’
Rachel set down her marker pen. ‘Annabeth knows what she’s doing. We have to try for peace. Unless we can unite the Greeks and Romans, the gods won’t be healed. Unless the gods are healed, there’s no way we can kill the giants. And unless we kill the giants –’
‘Gaia wakes,’ Connor said. ‘Game over. Look, Clarisse, Annabeth sent me a message from
Tartarus. From fricking Tartarus. Anybody who can do that … hey, I listen to them.’
Clarisse opened her mouth to reply, but when she spoke it was Coach Hedge’s voice: ‘Nico, wake up. We’ve got problems.’
XIV
Nico
NICO SAT UP SO QUICKLY he head-butted the satyr in the nose.
‘OW! Jeez, kid, you got a hard noggin!’
‘S-sorry, Coach.’ Nico blinked, trying to get his bearings. ‘What’s going on?’
He didn’t see any immediate threat. They were camped on a sunny lawn in the middle of a public square. Beds of orange marigolds bloomed all around them. Reyna was sleeping curled up, with her two metal dogs at her feet. A stone’s throw away, little kids played tag around a white marble fountain. At a nearby pavement café, half a dozen people sipped coffee in the shade of patio umbrellas. A few delivery vans were parked along the edges of the square, but there was no traffic. The only pedestrians were a few families, probably locals, enjoying a warm afternoon.
The square itself was paved with cobblestones, edged with white stucco buildings and lemon trees. In the centre stood the well-preserved shell of a Roman temple. Its square base stretched maybe fifty feet wide and ten feet tall, with an intact facade of Corinthian columns rising another twenty-five feet. And at the top of the colonnade …
Nico’s mouth went dry. ‘Oh, Styx.’
The Athena Parthenos lay sideways along the tops of the columns like a nightclub singer sprawled across a piano. Lengthwise, she fitted almost perfectly, but with Nike in her extended hand she was a bit too wide. She looked like she might topple forward at any moment.
‘What is she doing up there?’ Nico asked.
‘You tell me.’ Hedge rubbed his bruised nose. ‘That’s where we appeared. Almost fell to our deaths, but luckily I’ve got nimble hooves. You were unconscious, hanging in your harness like a tangled paratrooper until we managed to get you down.’
Nico tried to picture that, then decided he’d rather not. ‘Is this Spain?’
‘Portugal,’ Hedge said. ‘You overshot. By the way, Reyna speaks Spanish; she does not speak Portuguese. Anyway, while you were asleep, we figured out this city is Évora. Good news: it’s a sleepy little place. Nobody’s bothered us. Nobody seems to notice the giant Athena sleeping on top of the Roman temple, which is called the Temple of Diana, in case you were wondering. And people here appreciate my street performances! I’ve made about sixteen euros.’
He picked up his baseball cap, which jangled with coins.
Nico felt ill. ‘Street performances?’
‘A little singing,’ the coach said. ‘A little martial arts. Some interpretive dance.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know! The Portuguese have taste. Anyway, I supposed this was a decent place to lie low for a couple of days.’
Nico stared at him. ‘A couple of days?’
‘Hey, kid, we didn’t have much choice. In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve been working yourself to death with all that shadow-jumping. We tried to wake you up last night. No dice.’
‘So I’ve been asleep for –’