The Mark of Athena

“Get it back!” cried a nymph.

Probably against her will, Echo muttered, “Get it back.”

“Yes!” Narcissus unslung his bow and grabbed an arrow from his dusty quiver. “The first one who gets that bronze, I will like you almost as much as I like me. I might even kiss you, right after I kiss my reflection!”

“Oh my gods!” the nymphs screamed.

“And kill those demigods!” Narcissus added, glaring very handsomely at Leo. “They are not as cool as me!”

Leo could run pretty fast when someone was trying to kill him. Sadly, he’d had a lot of practice.

He overtook Hazel, which was easy, since she was struggling with fifty pounds of Celestial bronze. He took one side of the metal plate and glanced back. Narcissus was nocking an arrow, but it was so old and brittle, it broke into splinters.

“Ow!” he yelled very attractively. “My manicure!”

Normally nymphs were quick—at least the ones at Camp Half-Blood were—but these were burdened with posters, T-shirts, and other Narcissus™ merchandise. The nymphs also weren’t great at working as a team. They kept stumbling over one another, pushing and shoving. Echo made things worse by running among them, tripping and tackling as many as she could.

Still, they were closing rapidly.

“Call Arion!” Leo gasped.

“Already did!” Hazel said.

They ran for the beach. They made it to the edge of the water and could see the Argo II, but there was no way to get there. It was much too far to swim, even if they hadn’t been toting bronze.

Leo turned. The mob was coming over the dunes, Narcissus in the lead, holding his bow like a band major’s baton. The nymphs had conjured assorted weapons. Some held rocks. Some had wooden clubs wreathed in flowers. A few of the water nymphs had squirt guns—which seemed not quite as terrifying—but the look in their eyes was still murderous.

“Oh, man,” Leo muttered, summoning fire in his free hand. “Straight-up fighting isn’t my thing.”

“Hold the Celestial bronze.” Hazel drew her sword. “Get behind me!”

“Get behind me!” Echo repeated. The camouflaged girl was racing ahead of the mob now. She stopped in front of Leo and turned, spreading her arms as if she meant to personally shield him.

“Echo?” Leo could hardly talk with the lump in his throat. “You’re one brave nymph.”

“Brave nymph?” Her tone made it a question.

“I’m proud to have you on Team Leo,” he said. “If we survive this, you should forget Narcissus.”

“Forget Narcissus?” she said uncertainly.

“You’re way too good for him.”

The nymphs surrounded them in a semicircle.

“Trickery!” Narcissus said. “They don’t love me, girls! We all love me, don’t we?”

“Yes!” the girls screamed, except for one confused nymph in a yellow dress who squeaked, “Team Leo!”

“Kill them!” Narcissus ordered.

The nymphs surged forward, but the sand in front of them exploded. Arion raced out of nowhere, circling the mob so quickly he created a sandstorm, showering the nymphs in white lime, spraying their eyes.

“I love this horse!” Leo said.

The nymphs collapsed, coughing and gagging. Narcissus stumbled around blindly, swinging his bow like he was trying to hit a pinata.

Hazel climbed into the saddle, hoisted up the bronze, and offered Leo a hand.

“We can’t leave Echo!” Leo said.

“Leave Echo,” the nymph repeated.

She smiled, and for the first time Leo could clearly see her face. She really was pretty. Her eyes were bluer than he’d realized. How had he missed that?

“Why?” Leo asked. “You don’t think you can still save Narcissus…”

“Save Narcissus,” she said confidently. And even though it was only an echo, Leo could tell that she meant it. She’d been given a second chance at life, and she was determined to use it to save the guy she loved—even if he was a completely hopeless (though very handsome) moron.

Leo wanted to protest, but Echo leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, then pushed him gently away.

“Leo, come on!” Hazel called.

The other nymphs were starting to recover. They wiped the lime out of their eyes, which were now glowing green with anger. Leo looked for Echo again, but she had dissolved into the scenery.

“Yeah,” he said, his throat dry. “Yeah, okay.”