Leo wished he could invent a time machine. He’d go back two hours and undo what had happened. Either that, or he could invent a Slap-Leo-in-the- Face machine to punish himself, though he doubted it would hurt as badly as the look Annabeth was giving him.
“One more time,” she said. “Exactly what happened?”
Leo slumped against the mast. His head still throbbed from hitting the deck. All around him, his beautiful new ship was in shambles. The aft crossbows were piles of kindling. The foresail was tattered. The satellite array that powered the onboard Internet and TV was blown to bits, which had really made Coach Hedge mad. Their bronze dragon figurehead, Festus, was coughing up smoke like he had a hairball, and Leo could tell from the groaning sounds on the port side that some of the aerial oars had been knocked out of alignment or broken off completely, which explained why the ship was listing and shuddering as it flew, the engine wheezing like an asthmatic steam train.
He choked back a sob. “I don’t know. It’s fuzzy.”
Too many people were looking at him: Annabeth (Leo hated to make her angry; that girl scared him), Coach Hedge with his furry goat legs, his orange polo shirt, and his baseball bat (did he have to carry that everywhere?), and the newcomer, Frank.
Leo wasn’t sure what to make of Frank. He looked like a baby sumo wrestler, though Leo wasn’t stupid enough to say that aloud. Leo’s memory was hazy, but while he’d been half conscious, he was pretty sure he’d seen a dragon land on the ship—a dragon that had turned into Frank.
Annabeth crossed her arms. “You mean you don’t remember?”
“I…” Leo felt like he was trying to swallow a marble. “I remember, but it’s like I was watching myself do things. I couldn’t control it.”
Coach Hedge tapped his bat against the deck. In his gym clothes, with his cap pulled over his horns, he looked just like he used to at the Wilderness School, where he’d spent a year undercover as Jason, Piper, and Leo’s P.E. teacher. The way the old satyr was glowering, Leo almost wondered if the coach was going to order him to do push-ups.
“Look, kid,” Hedge said, “you blew up some stuff. You attacked some Romans. Awesome! Excellent! But did you have to knock out the satellite channels? I was right in the middle of watching a cage match.”
“Coach,” Annabeth said, “why don’t you make sure all the fires are out?” “But I already did that.”
“Do it again.”
The satyr trudged off, muttering under his breath. Even Hedge wasn’t crazy enough to defy Annabeth.
She knelt next to Leo. Her gray eyes were as steely as ball bearings. Her blond hair fell loose around her shoulders, but Leo didn’t find that attractive. He had no idea where the stereotype of dumb giggly blondes came from. Ever since he’d met Annabeth at the Grand Canyon last winter, when she’d marched toward him with that Give me Percy Jackson or I’ll kill you expression, Leo thought of blondes as much too smart and much too dangerous.
“Leo,” she said calmly, “did Octavian trick you somehow? Did he frame you, or—”
“No.” Leo could have lied and blamed that stupid Roman, but he didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. “The guy was a jerk, but he didn’t fire on the camp. I did.”
The new kid, Frank, scowled. “On purpose?”
“No!” Leo squeezed his eyes shut. “Well, yes…I mean, I didn’t want to.
But at the same time, I felt like I wanted to. Something was making me do it. There was this cold feeling inside me—”
“A cold feeling.” Annabeth’s tone changed. She sounded almost…scared. “Yeah,” Leo said. “Why?”
From belowdecks, Percy called up, “Annabeth, we need you.” Oh, gods, Leo thought. Please let Jason be okay.
As soon as they’d gotten on board, Piper had taken Jason below. The cut on his head had looked pretty bad. Leo had known Jason longer than anyone at Camp Half-Blood. They were best friends. If Jason didn’t make it…
“He’ll be fine.” Annabeth’s expression softened. “Frank, I’ll be back.
Just…watch Leo. Please.” Frank nodded.
If it was possible for Leo to feel worse, he did. Annabeth now trusted a Roman demigod she’d known for like, three seconds, more than she trusted Leo.
Once she was gone, Leo and Frank stared at each other. The big dude looked pretty odd in his bedsheet toga, with his gray pullover hoodie and jeans, and a bow and quiver from the ship’s armory slung over his shoulder. Leo remembered the time he had met the Hunters of Artemis—a bunch of cute lithe girls in silvery clothes, all armed with bows. He imagined Frank frolicking along with them. The idea was so ridiculous, it almost made him feel better.
“So,” Frank said. “Your name isn’t Sammy?” Leo scowled. “What kind of question is that?”
“Nothing,” Frank said quickly. “I just— Nothing. About the firing on the camp…Octavian could be behind it, like magically or something. He didn’t want the Romans getting along with you guys.”
Leo wanted to believe that. He was grateful to this kid for not hating him. But he knew it hadn’t been Octavian. Leo had walked to a ballista and started firing. Part of him had known it was wrong. He’d asked himself: What the heck am I doing? But he’d done it anyway.
Maybe he was going crazy. The stress of all those months working on the
Argo II might’ve finally made him crack.
But he couldn’t think about that. He needed to do something productive.
His hands needed to be busy.
“Look,” he said, “I should talk to Festus and get a damage report. You mind… ?”
Frank helped him up. “Who is Festus?”
“My friend,” Leo said. “His name isn’t Sammy either, in case you’re wondering. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
Fortunately the bronze dragon wasn’t damaged. Well, aside from the fact that last winter he’d lost everything except his head—but Leo didn’t count that.
When they reached the bow of the ship, the figurehead turned a hundred and eighty degrees to look at them. Frank yelped and backed away.
“It’s alive!” he said.
Leo would have laughed if he hadn’t felt so bad. “Yeah. Frank, this is Festus. He used to be a full bronze dragon, but we had an accident.”
“You have a lot of accidents,” Frank noted.
“Well, some of us can’t turn into dragons, so we have to build our own.” Leo arched his eyebrows at Frank. “Anyway, I revived him as a figurehead. He’s kind of the ship’s main interface now. How are things looking, Festus?”
Festus snorted smoke and made a series of squeaking, whirring sounds. Over the last few months, Leo had learned to interpret this machine language. Other demigods could understand Latin and Greek. Leo could speak Creak and Squeak.
“Ugh,” Leo said. “Could be worse, but the hull is compromised in several places. The port aerial oars have to be fixed before we can go full speed again. We’ll need some repair materials: Celestial bronze, tar, lime—”
“What do you need limes for?”
“Dude, lime. Calcium carbonate, used in cement and a bunch of other— Ah, never mind. The point is, this ship isn’t going far unless we can fix it.”
Festus made another click-creak noise that Leo didn’t recognize. It sounded like AY-zuhl.
“Oh…Hazel,” he deciphered. “That’s the girl with the curly hair, right?” Frank gulped. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine,” Leo said. “According to Festus, her horse is racing along below. She’s following us.”
“We’ve got to land, then,” Frank said. Leo studied him. “She’s your girlfriend?” Frank chewed his lip. “Yes.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Yes. Yes, definitely. I’m sure.”
Leo raised his hands. “Okay, fine. The problem is we can only manage one landing. The way the hull and the oars are, we won’t be able to lift off again until we repair, so we’ll have to make sure we land somewhere with all the right supplies.”
Frank scratched his head. “Where do you get Celestial bronze? You can’t just stock up at Home Depot.”
“Festus, do a scan.”
“He can scan for magic bronze?” Frank marveled. “Is there anything he
can’t do?”
Leo thought: You should’ve seen him when he had a body. But he didn’t say that. It was too painful, remembering the way Festus used to be.
Leo peered over the ship’s bow. The Central California valley was passing below. Leo didn’t hold out much hope that they could find what they needed all in one place, but they had to try. Leo also wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and New Rome. The Argo II could cover vast distances pretty quickly, thanks to its magical engine, but Leo figured the Romans had magic travel methods of their own.
Behind him, the stairs creaked. Percy and Annabeth climbed up, their faces grim.
Leo’s heart stumbled. “Is Jason—?”
“He’s resting,” Annabeth said. “Piper’s keeping an eye on him, but he should be fine.”
Percy gave him a hard look. “Annabeth says you did fire the ballista?” “Man, I—I don’t understand how it happened. I’m so sorry—” “Sorry?” Percy growled.
Annabeth put a hand on her boyfriend’s chest. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now, we have to regroup and make a plan. What’s the situation with the ship?”
Leo’s legs trembled. The way Percy had looked at him made him feel the
same as when Jason summoned lightning. Leo’s skin tingled, and every instinct in his body screamed, Duck!
He told Annabeth about the damage and the supplies they needed. At least he felt better talking about something fixable.
He was bemoaning the shortage of Celestial bronze when Festus began to whir and squeak.
“Perfect.” Leo sighed with relief.
“What’s perfect?” Annabeth said. “I could use some perfect about now.”
Leo managed a smile. “Everything we need in one place. Frank, why don’t you turn into a bird or something? Fly down and tell your girlfriend to meet us at the Great Salt Lake in Utah.”
Once they got there, it wasn’t a pretty landing. With the oars damaged and the foresail torn, Leo could barely manage a controlled descent. The others strapped themselves in below—except for Coach Hedge, who insisted on clinging to the forward rail, yelling, “YEAH! Bring it on, lake!” Leo stood astern, alone at the helm, and aimed as best he could.
Festus creaked and whirred warning signals, which were relayed through the intercom to the quarterdeck.
“I know, I know,” Leo said, gritting his teeth.
He didn’t have much time to take in the scenery. To the southeast, a city was nestled in the foothills of a mountain range, blue and purple in the afternoon shadows. A flat desert landscape spread to the south. Directly beneath them the Great Salt Lake glittered like aluminum foil, the shoreline etched with white salt marshes that reminded Leo of aerial photos of Mars.
“Hang on, Coach!” he shouted. “This is going to hurt.” “I was born for hurt!”
WHOOM! A swell of salt water washed over the bow, dousing Coach Hedge. The Argo II listed dangerously to starboard, then righted itself and rocked on the surface of the lake. Machinery hummed as the aerial blades that were still working changed to nautical form.
Three banks of robotic oars dipped into the water and began moving them forward.
“Good job, Festus,” Leo said. “Take us toward the south shore.”
“Yeah!” Coach Hedge pumped his fists in the air. He was drenched from his horns to hooves, but grinning like a crazy goat. “Do it again!”
“Uh…maybe later,” Leo said. “Just stay above deck, okay? You can keep watch, in case—you know, the lake decides to attack us or something.”
“On it,” Hedge promised.
Leo rang the All clear bell and headed for the stairs. Before he got there, a loud clump-clump-clump shook the hull. A tan stallion appeared on deck with Hazel Levesque on his back.
“How—?” Leo’s question died in his throat. “We’re in the middle of a lake! Can that thing fly?”
The horse whinnied angrily.
“Arion can’t fly,” Hazel said. “But he can run across just about anything.
Water, vertical surfaces, small mountains—none of that bothers him.” “Oh.”
Hazel was looking at him strangely, the way she had during the feast in the forum—like she was searching for something in his face. He was tempted to ask if they had met before, but he was sure they hadn’t. He would remember a pretty girl paying such close attention to him. That didn’t happen a lot.
She’s Frank’s girlfriend, he reminded himself.
Frank was still below, but Leo almost wished the big guy would come up the stairs. The way Hazel was studying Leo made him feel uneasy and self- conscious.
Coach Hedge crept forward with his baseball bat, eyeing the magic horse suspiciously. “Valdez, does this count as an invasion?”
“No!” Leo said. “Um, Hazel, you’d better come with me. I built a stable belowdecks, if Arion wants to—”
“He’s more of a free spirit.” Hazel slipped out of the saddle. “He’ll graze around the lake until I call him. But I want to see the ship. Lead the way.”
The Argo II was designed like an ancient trireme, only twice as big. The first deck had one central corridor with crew cabins on either side. On a normal trireme, most of the space would’ve been taken up with three rows of benches for a few hundred sweaty guys to do the manual labor, but Leo’s oars were automated and retractable, so they took up very little room inside the hull. The ship’s power came from the engine room on the second and lowest
deck, which also housed sickbay, storage, and the stables.
Leo led the way down the hall. He’d built the ship with eight cabins— seven for the demigods of the prophecy, and a room for Coach Hedge (Seriously—Chiron considered him a responsible adult chaperone?). At the stern was a large mess hall/lounge, which was where Leo headed.
On the way, they passed Jason’s room. The door was open. Piper sat at the side of his berth, holding Jason’s hand while he snored with an ice pack on his head.
Piper glanced at Leo. She held a finger to her lips for quiet, but she didn’t look angry. That was something. Leo tried to force down his guilt, and they kept walking. When they reached the mess hall, they found the others—Percy, Annabeth, and Frank—sitting dejectedly around the dining table.
Leo had made the lounge as nice as possible, since he figured they’d be spending a lot of time there. The cupboard was lined with magic cups and plates from Camp Half-Blood, which would fill up with whatever food or drink you wanted on command. There was also a magical ice chest with canned drinks, perfect for picnics ashore. The chairs were cushy recliners with thousand-finger massage, built-in headphones, and sword and drink holders for all your demigod kicking-back needs. There were no windows, but the walls were enchanted to show real-time footage from Camp Half-Blood— the beach, the forest, the strawberry fields—although now Leo was wondering if this made people homesick rather than happy.
Percy was staring longingly at a sunset view of Half-Blood Hill, where the Golden Fleece glittered in the branches of the tall pine tree.
“So we’ve landed,” Percy said. “What now?”
Frank plucked on his bowstring. “Figure out the prophecy? I mean…that
was a prophecy Ella spoke, right? From the Sibylline Books?” “The what?” Leo asked.
Frank explained how their harpy friend was freakishly good at memorizing books. At some point in the past, she’d inhaled a collection of ancient prophecies that had supposedly been destroyed around the fall of Rome.
“That’s why you didn’t tell the Romans,” Leo guessed. “You didn’t want them to get hold of her.”
Percy kept staring at the image of Half-Blood Hill. “Ella’s sensitive. She
was a captive when we found her. I just didn’t want…” He made a fist. “It doesn’t matter now. I sent Tyson an Iris-message, told him to take Ella to Camp Half-Blood. They’ll be safe there.”
Leo doubted that any of them would be safe, now that he had stirred up a camp of angry Romans on top of the problems they already had with Gaea and the giants; but he kept quiet.
Annabeth laced her fingers. “Let me think about the prophecy—but right now we have more immediate problems. We have to get this ship fixed. Leo, what do we need?”
“The easiest thing is tar.” Leo was glad to change the subject. “We can get that in the city, at a roofing-supply store or someplace like that. Also, Celestial bronze and lime. According to Festus, we can find both of those on an island in the lake, just west of here.”
“We’ll have to hurry,” Hazel warned. “If I know Octavian, he’s searching for us with his auguries. The Romans will send a strike force after us. It’s a matter of honor.”
Leo felt everyone’s eyes on him. “Guys…I don’t know what happened.
Honestly, I—”
Annabeth raised her hand. “We’ve been talking. We agree it couldn’t have been you, Leo. That cold feeling you mentioned…I felt it too. It must have been some sort of magic, either Octavian or Gaea or one of her minions. But until we understand what happened—”
Frank grunted. “How can we be sure it won’t happen again?”
Leo’s fingers heated up like they were about to catch fire. One of his powers as a son of Hephaestus was that he could summon flames at will; but he had to be careful not to do so by accident, especially on a ship filled with explosives and flammable supplies.
“I’m fine now,” he insisted, though he wished he could be sure. “Maybe we should use the buddy system. Nobody goes anywhere alone. We can leave Piper and Coach Hedge on board with Jason. Send one team into town to get tar. Another team can go after the bronze and the lime.”
“Split up?” Percy said. “That sounds like a really bad idea.”
“It’ll be quicker,” Hazel put in. “Besides, there’s a reason a quest is usually limited to three demigods, right?”
Annabeth raised her eyebrows, as if reappraising Hazel’s merits. “You’re right. The same reason we needed the Argo II…outside camp, seven demigods in one place will attract way too much monstrous attention. The ship is designed to conceal and protect us. We should be safe enough on board; but if we go on expeditions, we shouldn’t travel in groups larger than three. No sense alerting more of Gaea’s minions than we have to.”
Percy still didn’t look happy about it, but he took Annabeth’s hand. “As long as you’re my buddy, I’m good.”
Hazel smiled. “Oh, that’s easy. Frank, you were amazing, turning into a dragon! Could you do it again to fly Annabeth and Percy into town for the tar?”
Frank opened his mouth like he wanted to protest. “I…I suppose. But what about you?”
“I’ll ride Arion with Sa—with Leo, here.” She fidgeted with her sword hilt, which made Leo uneasy. She had even more nervous energy than he did. “We’ll get the bronze and the lime. We can all meet back here by dark.”
Frank scowled. Obviously, he didn’t like the idea of Leo going off with Hazel. For some reason, Frank’s disapproval made Leo want to go. He had to prove he was trustworthy. He wasn’t going to fire any random ballistae again.
“Leo,” said Annabeth, “if we get the supplies, how long to fix the ship?” “With luck, just a few hours.”
“Fine,” she decided. “We’ll meet you back here as soon as possible, but stay safe. We could use some good luck. That doesn’t mean we’ll get it.”
