The Son of Neptune

ideas were starting to form. For the first time, he started to wonder about this Prince of Pylos, and his great- grandfather Shen Lun’s disgrace at Camp Jupiter, and what the family powers might be.

The gift has never kept our family safe, Grandmother had warned.

A reassuring thought as Frank hunted poisonous fire-breathing devil snakes.

The night was quiet except for the crackle of brush fires. Every time a breeze made the grass rustle, Frank thought about the grain spirits who’d captured Hazel. Hopefully they’d gone south with the giant Polybotes. Frank didn’t need any more problems right now.

He crept downhill, his eyes stinging from the smoke. Then, about twenty feet ahead, he saw a burst of flame.

He considered throwing his spear. Stupid idea. Then he’d be without a weapon. Instead he advanced towards the fire.

He wished he had the gorgon’s blood vials, but they were back at the boat. He wondered if gorgon blood could cure basilisk poison . . . But even if he had the vials and managed to choose the right one, he doubted he’d have time to take it before he crumbled to dust like his bow.

He emerged in a clearing of burnt grass and found himself face to face with a basilisk.

The snake rose up on its tail. It hissed, and expanded the collar of white spikes round its neck. Little crown, Frank remembered. That’s what ‘basilisk’ meant. He had thought basilisks were huge dragonlike monsters that could petrify you with their eyes. Somehow the real basilisk was even more terrible. As tiny as it was, this extra-small package of fire, poison and evil would be much harder to kill than a large, bulky lizard. Frank had seen how fast it could move.

The monster fixed its pale yellow eyes on Frank.

Why wasn’t it attacking?

Frank’s golden spear felt cold and heavy. The dragontooth point dipped towards the ground all on its own – like a dowsing rod searching for water.

‘Stop that.’ Frank struggled to lift the spear. He’d have enough trouble jabbing the monster without his spear fighting against him. Then he heard the grass rustle on either side of him. The other two basilisks slithered into the clearing.

Frank had walked straight into an ambush.

XXIV Frank

FRANK SWEPT HIS SPEAR BACK AND FORTH. ‘Stay back!’ His voice sounded squeaky. ‘I’ve got … um … amazing powers – and stuff.’

The basilisks hissed in three-part harmony. Maybe they were laughing.

The spear tip was almost too heavy to lift now, as if the jagged white triangle of bone was trying to touch the earth. Then something clicked in the back of Frank’s mind: Mars had said the tip was a dragon’s tooth. Hadn’t there been some story about dragon’s teeth planted in the ground? Something he’d read in monster class at camp …?

The basilisks circled him, taking their time. Maybe they were hesitating because of the spear. Maybe they just couldn’t believe how stupid Frank was.

It seemed like madness, but Frank let the spear tip drop. He drove it into the ground. Crack.

When he lifted it out, the tip was gone – broken off in the dirt.

Wonderful. Now he had a golden stick.

Some crazy part of him wanted to bring out his piece of firewood. If he was going to die anyway, maybe he could set off a massive blaze – incinerate the basilisks, so at least his friends could get away.

Before he could get up the courage, the ground rumbled at his feet. Dirt spewed everywhere, and a skeletal hand clawed the air. The basilisks hissed and backed up.

Frank couldn’t blame them. He watched in horror as a human skeleton crawled out of the ground. It took on flesh as if someone were pouring gelatin over its bones, covering them in glowing, transparent grey skin. Then ghostly clothes enveloped it – a tight T-shirt, camo pants and army boots. Everything about the creature was grey: grey clothes on grey flesh on grey bones.

It turned towards Frank. Its skull grinned beneath an expressionless grey face. Frank whimpered like a puppy. His legs shook so badly he had to support himself with the spear shaft. The skeleton warrior was waiting, Frank realized – waiting for orders.

‘Kill the basilisks!’ he yelped. ‘Not me!’

The skeletal warrior leaped into action. He grabbed the nearest snake and, though his grey flesh began to smoke on contact, he strangled the basilisk with one hand and flung down its limp body. The other two basilisks hissed with rage. One sprang at Frank, but he knocked it aside with the butt of his spear.

The other snake belched fire directly in the skeleton’s face. The warrior marched forward and stomped the basilisk’s head under his boot.

Frank turned towards the last basilisk, which was curled at the edge of the clearing studying them. Frank’s Imperial gold spear shaft was steaming but, unlike his bow, it didn’t seem to be crumbling from the basilisk’s touch. The skeleton warrior’s right foot and hand were slowly dissolving from poison. His head was on fire, but otherwise he looked pretty good.

The basilisk did the smart thing. It turned to flee. In a blur of motion, the skeleton pulled something from his shirt and flung it across the clearing, impaling the basilisk in the dirt. Frank thought it was a knife. Then he realized it was one of the skeleton’s own ribs.

Frank was glad his stomach was empty. ‘That … that was gross.’

The skeleton stumbled over to the basilisk. It pulled out its rib and used it to cut off the creature’s head. The basilisk dissolved into ashes. Then the skeleton decapitated the other two monster carcasses and kicked all the ashes to disperse them. Frank remembered the two gorgons in the Tiber – the way the river had pulled apart their remains to keep them from re-forming.

‘You’re making sure they don’t come back,’ Frank realized. ‘Or slowing them down, anyway.’

The skeleton warrior stood at attention in front of Frank. Its poisoned foot and hand were mostly gone. Its head was still burning.

‘What – what are you?’ Frank asked. He wanted to add, Please don’t hurt me.

The skeleton saluted with its stump of a hand. Then it began to crumble, sinking back into the ground.

‘Wait!’ Frank said. ‘I don’t even know what to call you! Tooth Man? Bones? Grey?’

As its face disappeared beneath the dirt, the warrior seemed to grin at the last name – or maybe that was just its skeletal teeth showing. Then it was gone, leaving Frank alone with his pointless spear.

‘Grey,’ he muttered. ‘Okay … but …’

He examined the tip of his spear. Already, a new dragon tooth was starting to grow out of the golden shaft.

You get three charges out of it, Mars had said, so use it wisely.

Frank heard footsteps behind him. Percy and Hazel ran into the clearing. Percy looked better, except he was carrying a tie-dyed man satchel from R.O.F.L. – definitely not his style. Riptide was in his hand. Hazel had drawn her spatha.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

Percy turned in a circle, looking for enemies. ‘Iris told us you were out here battling the basilisks by yourself, and we were, like, What? We came as fast as we could. What happened?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Frank admitted.

Hazel crouched next to the earth where Grey had disappeared. ‘I sense death. Either my brother has been here or … the basilisks are dead?’