The Son of Neptune

camp was invaded by monsters that couldn’t be killed. ‘If this begins the ancient prophecy, we don’t have resources to send an army to these Doors of Death and protect the camp. I can’t imagine even sparing seven demigods -’

‘First things first.’ Percy tried to sound confident, though he could feel the level of panic rising in the room. ‘I don’t know who the seven are, or what that old prophecy means, exactly. But first we have to free Thanatos. Mars told us we only needed three people for the quest to Alaska. Let’s concentrate on succeeding with that and getting back before the Feast of Fortuna. Then we can worry about the Doors of Death.’

‘Yeah,’ Frank said in a small voice. ‘That’s probably enough for one week.’

‘So you do have a plan?’ Octavian asked sceptically.

Percy looked at his teammates. ‘We go to Alaska as fast as possible …’

‘And we improvise,’ Hazel said.

‘A lot,’ Frank added.

Reyna studied them. She looked like she was mentally writing her own obituary.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Nothing remains except for us to vote on what support we can give the quest – transportation, money, magic, weapons.’

‘Praetor, if I may,’ Octavian said.

‘Oh, great,’ Percy muttered. ‘Here it comes.’

‘The camp is in grave danger,’ Octavian said. ‘Two gods have warned us we will be attacked four days from now. We must not spread our resources too thin, especially by funding projects that have a slim chance of success.’

Octavian looked at the three of them with pity, as if to say, Poor little things. ‘Mars has clearly chosen the least likely candidates for this quest. Perhaps that is because he considers them the most expendable. Perhaps Mars is playing the long odds. Whatever the case, he wisely didn’t order a massive expedition, nor did he ask us to fund their adventure. I say we keep our resources here and defend the camp. This is where the battle will be lost or won. If these three succeed, wonderful! But they should do so by their own ingenuity.’

An uneasy murmur passed through the crowd. Frank jumped to his feet. Before he could start a fight, Percy said, ‘Fine! No problem. But at least give us transportation. Gaia is the earth goddess, right? Going overland, across the earth – I’m guessing we should avoid that. Plus, it’ll be too slow.’

Octavian laughed. ‘Would you like us to charter you an aeroplane?’

The idea made Percy nauseous. ‘No. Air travel … I have a feeling that would be bad, too. But a boat. Can you at least give us a boat?’

Hazel made a grunting sound. Percy glanced over. She shook her head and mouthed, Fine. I’m fine.

‘A boat!’ Octavian turned to the senators. ‘The son of Neptune wants a boat. Sea travel has never been the Roman way, but he isn’t much of a Roman!’

‘Octavian,’ Reyna said sternly, ‘a boat is little enough to ask. And providing no other aid seems very -’

‘Traditional!’ Octavian exclaimed. ‘It is very traditional. Let us see if these questers have the strength to survive without help, like true Romans!’

More muttering filled the chamber. The senators’ eyes moved back and forth between Octavian and Reyna, watching the test of wills.

Reyna straightened in her chair. ‘Very well,’ she said tightly. ‘We’ll put it to a vote. Senators, the motion is as follows: the quest shall go to Alaska. The senate shall provide full access to the Roman navy docked at Alameda. No other aid will be forthcoming. The three adventurers will survive or fail on their own merits. All in favour?’

Every senator’s hand went up.

‘The motion is passed.’ Reyna turned to Frank. ‘Centurion, your party is excused. The senate has other matters to discuss. And, Octavian, if I may confer with you for a moment.’

Percy was incredibly glad to see the sunlight. In that dark hall, with all those eyes on him, he’d felt like the world was riding on his shoulders – and he was fairly sure he’d had that experience before.

He filled his lungs with fresh air.

Hazel picked up a large emerald from the path and slipped it in her pocket. ‘So … we’re pretty much toast?’

Frank nodded miserably. ‘If either of you wants to back out, I wouldn’t blame you.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Hazel said. ‘And pull sentry duty for the rest of the week?’

Frank managed a smile. He turned to Percy.

Percy gazed across the forum. Stay put, Annabeth had said in his dream. But if he stayed put this camp would be destroyed. He looked up at the hills, and imagined Gaia’s face smiling in the shadows and ridges. You can’t win, little demigod, she seemed to say. Serve me by staying, or serve me by going.

Percy made a silent vow: after the Feast of Fortuna, he would find Annabeth. But, for now, he had to act. He couldn’t let Gaia win.

‘I’m with you,’ he told Frank. ‘Besides, I want to check out the Roman navy.’

They were only halfway across the forum when someone called, ‘Jackson!’ Percy turned and saw Octavian jogging towards them.

‘What do you want?’ Percy asked.

Octavian smiled. ‘Already decided I’m your enemy? That’s a rash choice, Percy. I’m a loyal Roman.’

Frank snarled. ‘You backstabbing, slimy -’ Both Percy and Hazel had to restrain him.

‘Oh, dear,’ Octavian said. ‘Hardly the right behaviour for a new centurion. Jackson, I only followed you because Reyna charged me with a message. She wants you to report to the principia without your – ah – two lackeys, here. Reyna will meet you there after the senate adjourns. She’d like a private word with you before you leave on your quest.’

‘What about?’ Percy said.

‘I’m sure I don’t know.’ Octavian smiled wickedly. ‘The last person she had a private talk with was Jason Grace. And that was the last time I ever saw him. Good luck and goodbye, Percy Jackson.’

XV Percy

PERCY WAS GLAD RIPTIDE HAD RETURNED to his pocket. Judging from Reyna’s expression, he thought he might need to defend himself.

She stormed into the principia with her purple cloak billowing, and her greyhounds at her feet. Percy was sitting in one of the praetor chairs that he’d pulled to the visitor’s side, which maybe wasn’t the proper thing to do. He started to get up.

‘Stay seated,’ Reyna growled. ‘You leave after lunch. We have a lot to discuss.’

She plunked down her dagger so hard the jelly-bean bowl rattled. Aurum and Argentum took their posts on her left and right and fixed their ruby eyes on Percy.

‘What’d I do wrong?’ Percy asked. ‘If it’s about the chair -’

‘It’s not you.’ Reyna scowled. ‘I hate senate meetings. When Octavian gets talking …’

Percy nodded. ‘You’re a warrior. Octavian is a talker. Put him in front of the senate, and suddenly he becomes the powerful one.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re smarter than you look.’

‘Gee, thanks. I hear Octavian might get elected praetor, assuming the camp survives that long.’

‘Which brings us to the subject of doomsday,’ Reyna said, ‘and how you might help prevent it. But before I place the fate of Camp Jupiter in your hands, we need to get a few things straight.’

She sat down and put a ring on the table – a band of silver etched with a sword-and-torch design, like Reyna’s