The Blood of Olympus (The Heroes of Olympus, Book 5)

TYPICAL.

Just as Leo finished his modifications, a big storm goddess came along and smacked the grommets right out of his ship.

After their encounter with Kymopo-what’s-her-name, the Argo II limped through the Aegean, too damaged to fly, too slow to outrun monsters. They fought hungry sea serpents about every hour. They attracted schools of curious fish. At one point they got stuck on a rock, and Percy and Jason had to get out and push.

The wheezing sound of the engine made Leo want to cry. Over the course of three long days, he finally got the ship more or less back to working order just as they made port at the island of Mykonos, which probably meant it was time for them to get bashed to pieces again.

Percy and Annabeth went ashore to scout while Leo stayed on the quarterdeck, fine-tuning the control console. He was so engrossed in the wiring that he didn’t notice the landing party was back until Percy said, ‘Hey, man. Gelato.’

Instantly, Leo’s day got better. The whole crew sat on deck, without a storm or a monster attack to worry about for the first time in days, and ate ice cream. Well, except for Frank, who was lactose intolerant. He got an apple.

The day was hot and windy. The sea glittered with chop, but Leo had fixed the stabilizers well enough that Hazel didn’t look too seasick.

Curving off to their starboard side was the town of Mykonos – a collection of white stucco buildings with blue roofs, blue windows and blue doors.

‘We saw these pelicans walking around town,’ Percy reported. ‘Like, just going through the shops, stopping at the bars.’

Hazel frowned. ‘Monsters in disguise?’

‘No,’ Annabeth said, laughing, ‘just regular old pelicans. They’re the town mascots or something. And there’s a “Little Italy” section of town. That’s why the gelato is so good.’

‘Europe is messed up.’ Leo shook his head. ‘First we go to Rome for Spanish steps. Then we go to Greece for Italian ice cream.’

But he couldn’t argue with the gelato. He ate his double chocolate delight and tried to imagine that he and his friends were just chilling on a vacation. Which made him wish Calypso was with him, which made him wish the war was over and everybody was alive … which made him sad. It was 30 July. Less than forty-eight hours until G-Day, when Gaia, the Princess of Potty Sludge, would awaken in all her dirt-faced glory.

The strange thing was, the closer they got to 1 August, the more upbeat his friends acted. Or maybe upbeat wasn’t the right word. They seemed to be pulling together for the final lap – aware that the next two days would make or break them. There was no point moping around when you faced imminent death. The end of the world made gelato taste a lot better.

Of course, the rest of the crew hadn’t been down in the stables with Leo, talking with the victory goddess Nike over the past three days …

Piper set down her ice-cream cup. ‘So, the island of Delos is right across the harbour. Artemis and Apollo’s home turf. Who’s going?’

‘Me,’ Leo said immediately.

Everybody stared at him.

‘What?’ Leo demanded. ‘I’m diplomatic and stuff. Frank and Hazel volunteered to back me up.’

‘We did?’ Frank lowered his half-eaten apple. ‘I mean … sure we did.’

Hazel’s gold eyes flashed in the sunlight. ‘Leo, did you have a dream about this or something?’

‘Yes,’ Leo blurted. ‘Well … no. Not exactly. But … you got to trust me on this, guys. I need to talk to Apollo and Artemis. I’ve got an idea I need to bounce off them.’

Annabeth frowned. She looked like she might object, but Jason spoke up.

‘If Leo has an idea,’ he said, ‘we need to trust him.’

Leo felt guilty about that, especially considering what his idea was, but he mustered a smile. ‘Thanks, man.’

Percy shrugged. ‘Okay. But a word of advice: when you see Apollo, don’t mention haiku.’

Hazel knitted her eyebrows. ‘Why not? Isn’t he the god of poetry?’

‘Just trust me.’

‘Got it.’ Leo rose to his feet. ‘And, guys, if they have a souvenir shop on Delos, I’m totally bringing you back some Apollo and Artemis bobbleheads!’

Apollo didn’t seem to be in the mood for haiku. He wasn’t selling bobbleheads, either.

Frank had turned into a giant eagle to fly to Delos, but Leo hitched a ride with Hazel on Arion’s back. No offence to Frank, but after the fiasco at Fort Sumter Leo had become a conscientious objector to riding giant eagles. He had a one hundred percent failure rate.

They found the island deserted, maybe because the seas were too choppy for the tourist boats. The windswept hills were barren except for rocks, grass and wildflowers – and, of course, a bunch of crumbling temples. The rubble was probably very impressive, but, ever since Olympia, Leo had been on ancient ruins overload. He was so done with white marble columns. He wanted to get back to the U.S., where the oldest buildings were the public schools and Ye Olde McDonald’s.

They walked down an avenue lined with white stone lions, the faces weathered almost featureless.

‘It’s eerie,’ Hazel said.

‘You sense any ghosts?’ Frank asked.

She shook her head. ‘The lack of ghosts is eerie. Back in ancient times, Delos was sacred ground. No mortal was allowed to be born here or die here. There are literally no mortal spirits on this whole island.’

‘Cool with me,’ Leo said. ‘Does that mean nobody’s allowed to kill us here?’

‘I didn’t say that.’ Hazel stopped at the summit of a low hill. ‘Look. Down there.’

Below them, the hillside had been carved into an amphitheatre. Scrubby plants sprouted between the rows of stone benches, so it looked like a concert for thorn bushes. Down at the bottom, sitting on a block of stone in the middle of the stage, the god Apollo hunched over a ukulele, plucking out a mournful tune.

At least, Leo assumed it was Apollo. The dude looked about seventeen, with curly blond hair and a perfect tan. He wore tattered jeans, a black T-shirt and a white linen jacket with glittering rhinestone lapels, like he was trying for an Elvis/Ramones/Beach Boys hybrid look.

Leo didn’t usually think of the ukulele as a sad instrument. (Pathetic, sure. But not sad.) Yet the tune Apollo strummed was so melancholy it broke Leo’s feels.

Sitting in the front row was a young girl of about thirteen, wearing black leggings and a silver tunic, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was whittling on a long piece of wood – making a bow.

‘Those are the gods?’ Frank asked. ‘They don’t look like twins.’

‘Well, think about it,’ Hazel said. ‘If you’re a god, you can look like whatever you want. If you had a twin –’

‘I’d choose to look like anything but my sibling,’ Frank agreed. ‘So what’s the plan?’

‘Don’t shoot!’ yelled Leo. It seemed like a good opening line, facing two archery gods. He raised his arms and headed down to the stage.

Neither god looked surprised to see them.

Apollo sighed and went back to playing his ukulele.

When they got to the front row, Artemis muttered, ‘There you are. We were beginning to wonder.’

That took the pressure out of Leo’s pistons. He’d been ready to introduce himself, explain how they’d come in peace, maybe tell a few jokes and offer breath mints.

‘So you were expecting us, then,’ Leo said. ‘I can tell, because you’re both so excited.’

Apollo plucked a tune that sounded like the funeral version of ‘Camptown Races’. ‘We were expecting to be found, bothered and tormented. We didn’t know by whom. Can you not leave us to our misery?’

‘You know they can’t, brother,’ Artemis chided. ‘They require our help with their quest, even if the odds are hopeless.’

‘You two are full of good cheer,’ Leo said. ‘Why are you hiding out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be … I dunno, fighting giants or something?’

Artemis’s pale eyes made Leo feel like he was a deer carcass about to be gutted.

‘Delos is our birthplace,’ said the goddess. ‘Here, we are unaffected by the Greek–Roman schism. Believe me, Leo Valdez, if I could, I would be with my Hunters, facing our old enemy Orion. Unfortunately, if I stepped off this island, I would become incapacitated with pain. All I can do is watch helplessly while Orion slaughters my followers. Many gave their lives to protect your friends and that accursed Athena statue.’

Hazel made a strangled sound. ‘You mean Nico? Is he all right?’

‘All right?’ Apollo sobbed over his ukulele. ‘None of us are all right, girl! Gaia is rising!’

Artemis glared at Apollo. ‘Hazel Levesque, your brother is still alive. He is a brave fighter, like you. I wish I could say the same for my brother.’

‘You wrong me!’ Apollo wailed. ‘I was misled by Gaia and that horrible Roman child!’

Frank cleared his throat. ‘Uh, Lord Apollo, you mean Octavian?’

‘Do not speak his name!’ Apollo strummed a minor chord. ‘Oh, Frank Zhang, if only you were my child. I heard your prayers, you know, all those weeks you wanted to be claimed. But alas! Mars gets all the good ones. I get … that creature as my descendant. He filled my head with compliments. He told me of the great temples he would build in my honour.’

Artemis snorted. ‘You are easily flattered, brother.’

‘Because I have so many amazing qualities to praise! Octavian said he wanted to make the Romans strong again. I said fine! I gave him my blessing.’

‘As I recall,’ said Artemis, ‘he also promised to make you the most important god of the legion, above even Zeus.’

‘Well, who was I to argue with an offer like that? Does Zeus have a perfect tan? Can he play the ukulele? I think not! But I never thought Octavian would start a war! Gaia must have been clouding my thoughts, whispering in my ear.’

Leo remembered the crazy wind dude Aeolus, who’d gone homicidal after hearing Gaia’s voice.

‘So fix it,’ he said. ‘Tell Octavian to stand down. Or, you know, shoot him with one of your arrows. That would be fine, too.’

‘I cannot!’ Apollo wailed. ‘Look!’

His ukulele turned into a bow. He aimed at the sky and shot. The golden arrow sailed about two hundred feet, then disintegrated into smoke.

‘To shoot my bow, I would have to step off Delos,’ Apollo cried. ‘Then I would be incapacitated, or Zeus would strike me down. Father never liked me. He hasn’t trusted me for millennia!’

‘Well,’ Artemis said, ‘to be fair, there was that time you conspired with Hera to overthrow him.’

‘That was a misunderstanding!’

‘And you killed some of Zeus’s Cyclopes.’

‘I had a good reason for that! At any rate, now Zeus blames me for everything – Octavian’s schemes, the fall of Delphi –’

‘Wait.’ Hazel made a time-out sign. ‘The fall of Delphi?’

Apollo’s bow turned back into a ukulele. He plucked a dramatic chord. ‘When the schism began between Greek and Roman, while I struggled with confusion, Gaia took advantage! She raised my old enemy Python, the great serpent, to repossess the Delphic Oracle. That horrible creature is now coiled in the ancient caverns, blocking the magic of prophecy. I am stuck here, so I can’t even fight him.’

‘Bummer,’ Leo said, though secretly he thought that no more prophecies might be a good thing. His to-do list was already pretty full.

‘Bummer indeed!’ Apollo sighed. ‘Zeus was already angry with me for appointing that new girl, Rachel Dare, as my Oracle. Zeus seems to think I hastened the war with Gaia by doing so, since Rachel issued the Prophecy of Seven as soon as I blessed her. But prophecy doesn’t work that way! Father just needed someone to blame. So of course he picked the handsomest, most talented, hopelessly awesome god.’

Artemis made a gagging gesture.

‘Oh, stop it, sister!’ Apollo said. ‘You’re in trouble, too!’

‘Only because I stayed in touch with my Hunters against Zeus’s wishes,’ Artemis said. ‘But I can always charm Father into forgiving me. He’s never been able to stay mad at me. It’s you I’m worried about.’

‘I’m worried about me, too!’ Apollo agreed. ‘We have to do something. We can’t kill Octavian. Hmm. Perhaps we should kill these demigods.’

‘Whoa there, Music Man.’ Leo resisted the urge to hide behind Frank and yell, Take the big Canadian dude! ‘We’re on your side, remember? Why would you kill us?’

‘It might make me feel better!’ Apollo said. ‘I have to do something!’

‘Or,’ Leo said quickly, ‘you could help us. See, we’ve got this plan …’

He told them how Hera had directed them to Delos, and how Nike had described the ingredients for the physician’s cure.

‘The physician’s cure?’ Apollo stood and smashed his ukulele on the stones. ‘That’s your plan?’

Leo raised his hands. ‘Hey, um, usually I’m all for smashing ukuleles, but –’

‘I cannot help you!’ Apollo cried. ‘If I told you the secret of the physician’s cure, Zeus would never forgive me!’

‘You’re already in trouble,’ Leo pointed out. ‘How could it get worse?’

Apollo glared at him. ‘If you knew what my father is capable of, mortal, you would not ask. It would be simpler if I just smote you all. That might please Zeus –’

‘Brother …’ Artemis said.

The twins locked eyes and had a silent argument. Apparently Artemis won. Apollo heaved a sigh and kicked his broken ukulele across the stage.

Artemis rose. ‘Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, come with me. There are things you should know about the Twelfth Legion. As for you, Leo Valdez –’ The goddess turned those cold silver eyes on him. ‘Apollo will hear you out. See if you can strike a deal. My brother always likes a good bargain.’

Frank and Hazel both glanced at him, like Please don’t die. Then they followed Artemis up the steps of the amphitheatre and over the crest of the hill.

‘Well, Leo Valdez?’ Apollo folded his arms. His eyes glowed with golden light. ‘Let us bargain, then. What can you offer that would convince me to help you rather than kill you?’