The Son of Neptune

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.’

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