The Son of Neptune

The Amazons confiscated the trio’s weapons and marched them down so many flights of stairs that Hazel lost count.

Finally they emerged in a cavern so big it could have accommodated ten high schools, sports fields and all. Stark fluorescent lights glowed along the rock ceiling. Conveyor belts wound through the room like waterslides, carrying boxes in every direction. Aisles of metal shelves stretched out forever, stacked high with crates of merchandise. Cranes hummed and robotic arms whirred, folding cardboard boxes, packing shipments and taking things on and off the belts. Some of the shelves were so tall they were only accessible by ladders and catwalks, which ran across the ceiling like theatre scaffolding.

Hazel remembered newsreels she’d seen as a child. She’d always been impressed by the scenes of factories building planes and guns for the war effort – hundreds and hundreds of weapons coming off the line every day. But that was nothing compared to this, and almost all the work was being done by computers and robots. The only humans Hazel could see were some black-suited security women patrolling the catwalks, and some men in orange jumpsuits, like prison uniforms, driving forklifts through the aisles, delivering more pallets of boxes. The men wore iron collars round their necks.

‘You keep slaves?’ Hazel knew it might be dangerous to speak, but she was so outraged she couldn’t stop herself.

‘The men?’ Kinzie snorted. ‘They’re not slaves. They just know their place. Now, move.’

They walked so far that Hazel’s feet began to hurt. She thought they must surely be getting to the end of the warehouse when Kinzie opened a large set of double doors and led them into another cavern, just as big as the first.

‘The Underworld isn’t this big,’ Hazel complained, which probably wasn’t true, but it felt that way to her feet.

Kinzie smiled smugly. ‘You admire our base of operations? Yes, our distribution system is worldwide. It took many years and most of our fortune to build. Now, finally, we’re turning a profit. The mortals don’t realize they are funding the Amazon kingdom. Soon, we’ll be richer than any mortal nation. Then – when the weak mortals depend on us for everything – the revolution will begin!’

‘What are you going to do?’ Frank grumbled. ‘Cancel free shipping?’

A guard slammed the hilt of her sword into his gut. Percy tried to help him, but two more guards pushed him back at sword point.

‘You’ll learn respect,’ Kinzie said. ‘It’s males like you who have ruined the mortal world. The only harmonious society is one run by women. We are stronger, wiser -’

‘More humble,’ Percy said.

The guards tried to hit him, but Percy ducked.

‘Stop it!’ Hazel said. Surprisingly, the guards listened.

‘Hylla is going to judge us, right?’ Hazel asked. ‘So take us to her. We’re wasting time.’

Kinzie nodded. ‘Perhaps you’re right. We have more important problems. And time … time is definitely an issue.’

‘What do you mean?’ Hazel asked.

A guard grunted. ‘We could take them straight to Otrera. Might win her favour that way.’

‘No!’ Kinzie snarled. ‘I’d sooner wear an iron collar and drive a forklift. Hylla is queen.’

‘Until tonight,’ another guard muttered.

Kinzie gripped her sword. For a second Hazel thought the Amazons might start fighting one another, but Kinzie seemed to get her anger under control.

‘Enough,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’

They crossed a lane of forklift traffic, navigated a maze of conveyor belts and ducked under a row of robotic arms that were packing up boxes.

Most of the merchandise looked pretty ordinary: books, electronics, baby diapers. But against one wall sat a war chariot with a big barcode on the side. Hanging from the yoke was a sign that read: ONLY ONE LEFT IN STOCK. ORDER SOON! (MORE ON THE WAY)

Finally they entered a smaller cavern that looked like a combination loading zone and throne room. The walls were lined with metal shelves six storeys high, decorated with war banners, painted shields and the stuffed heads of dragons, hydras, giant lions and wild boars. Standing guard along either side were dozens of forklifts modified for war. An iron-collared male drove each machine, but an Amazon warrior stood on a platform at the back, manning a giant mounted crossbow. The prongs of each forklift had been sharpened into oversized sword blades.

The shelves in this room were stacked with cages containing live animals. Hazel couldn’t believe what she was seeing – black mastiffs, giant eagles, a lion-eagle hybrid that must’ve been a gryphon and a red ant the size of a compact car.

She watched in horror as a forklift zipped into the room, picked up a cage with a beautiful white pegasus and sped away while the horse whinnied in protest.

‘What are you doing to that poor animal?’ Hazel demanded.

Kinzie frowned. ‘The pegasus? It’ll be fine. Someone must’ve ordered it. The shipping and handling charges are steep, but -’

‘You can buy a pegasus online?’ Percy asked.

Kinzie glared at him. ‘Obviously you can’t, male. But Amazons can. We have followers all over the world. They need supplies. This way.’

At the end of the warehouse was a dais constructed from pallets of books: stacks of vampire novels, walls of James Patterson thrillers and a throne made from about a thousand copies of something called The Five Habits of Highly Aggressive Women.

At the base of the steps, several Amazons in camouflage were having a heated argument while a young woman – Queen Hylla, Hazel assumed – watched and listened from her throne.

Hylla was in her twenties, lithe and lean as a tiger. She wore a black leather jumpsuit and black boots. She had no crown, but round her waist was a strange belt made of interlocking gold links, like the pattern of a labyrinth. Hazel couldn’t believe how much she looked like Reyna – a little older, perhaps, but with the same long black hair, the same dark eyes and the same hard expression, like she was trying to decide which of the Amazons before her most deserved death.

Kinzie took one look at the argument and grunted with distaste. ‘Otrera’s agents, spreading their lies.’

‘What?’ Frank asked.

Then Hazel stopped so abruptly that the guards behind her stumbled. A few feet from the queen’s throne, two Amazons guarded a cage. Inside was a beautiful horse – not the winged kind, but a majestic and powerful stallion with a honey-coloured coat and a black mane. His fierce brown eyes regarded Hazel, and she could swear he looked impatient, as if thinking: About time you got here.

‘It’s him,’ Hazel murmured.

‘Him, who?’ Percy asked.

Kinzie scowled in annoyance, but when she saw where Hazel was looking, her expression softened. ‘Ah, yes. Beautiful, isn’t he?’

Hazel blinked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. It was the same horse she’d chased in Alaska. She was sure of it … but that was impossible. No horse could live that long.

‘Is he …’ Hazel could hardly control her voice. ‘Is he for sale?’

The guards all laughed.

‘That’s Arion,’ Kinzie said patiently, as if she understood Hazel’s fascination. ‘He’s a royal treasure of the Amazons – to be claimed only by our most courageous warrior, if you believe the prophecy.’

‘Prophecy?’ Hazel asked.

Kinzie’s expression became pained, almost embarrassed. ‘Never mind. But, no, he’s not for sale.’

‘Then why is he in a cage?’

Kinzie grimaced. ‘Because … he is difficult.’

Right on cue, the horse slammed his head against the cage door. The metal bars shuddered, and the guards retreated nervously.

Hazel wanted to free that horse. She wanted it more than anything she had ever wanted before. But Percy, Frank and a dozen Amazon guards were staring at her, so she tried to mask her emotions. ‘Just asking,’ she