The Burning Maze (The Trials of Apollo #3)

I stared at him blankly, whatever remained of my natural eloquence clogged in my throat. Jason Grace had done what?

Zeus had many children, which meant I had many half brothers and half sisters. Except for my twin, Artemis, I’d never felt close to any of them. Certainly, I’d never had a brother defend me in front of Father. My Olympian brethren were more likely to deflect Zeus’s fury by yelling, Apollo did it!

This young demigod had stood up for me. He’d had no reason to do so. He barely knew me. Yet he’d risked his own life and faced the wrath of Zeus.

My first thought was to scream, ARE YOU INSANE?

Then more appropriate words came to me. ‘Thank you.’

Jason took me by the shoulders – not out of anger, or in a clinging way, but as a brother. ‘Promise me one thing. Whatever happens, when you get back to Olympus, when you’re a god again, remember. Remember what it’s like to be human.’

A few weeks ago, I would have scoffed. Why would I want to remember any of this?

At best, if I were lucky enough to reclaim my divine throne, I would recall this wretched experience like a scary B-movie that had finally ended. I would walk out of the cinema into the sunlight, thinking, Phew! Glad that’s over.

Now, however, I had some inkling of what Jason meant. I had learned a lot about human frailty and human strength. I felt … different towards mortals, having been one of them. If nothing else, it would provide me with some excellent inspiration for new song lyrics!

I was reluctant to promise anything, though. I was already living under the curse of one broken oath. At Camp Half-Blood, I had rashly sworn on the River Styx not to use my archery or music skills until I was a god again. Then I had quickly reneged. Ever since, my skills had deteriorated.

I was sure the vengeful spirit of the River Styx wasn’t done with me. I could almost feel her scowling at me from the Underworld: What right do you have to promise anything to anyone, oath-breaker?

But how could I not try? It was the least I could do for this brave mortal who had stood up for me when no one else would.

‘I promise,’ I told Jason. ‘I will try my utmost to remember my human experience, as long as you promise to tell Piper the truth about the prophecy.’

Jason patted my shoulders. ‘Deal. Speaking of which, the girls are probably waiting.’

‘One more thing,’ I blurted out. ‘About Piper. It’s just … you seem like such a good power couple. Did you really – did you break up with her to make it easier for her to leave LA?’

Jason stared at me with those azure eyes. ‘Did she tell you that?’

‘No,’ I admitted. ‘But Mellie seemed, ah, upset with you.’

Jason considered. ‘I’m okay with Mellie blaming me. It’s probably better.’

‘Do you mean it’s not true?’

In Jason’s eyes, I saw just a hint of desolation – like wildfire smoke momentarily obliterating a blue sky. I remembered Medea’s words: The truth was enough to break Jason Grace.

‘Piper ended it,’ he said quietly. ‘That was months ago, way before the Burning Maze. Now, come on. Let’s go find Caligula.’





24


Ah, Santa Barbara!

Famed for surfing! Fish tacos!

And crazy Romans!





Alas for us and Mr Bedrossian, there was no sign of the Cadillac Escalade on the street where we’d parked.

‘We’ve been towed,’ Piper announced casually, as if this was a regular occurrence for her.

She returned to the school’s front office. A few minutes later, she emerged from the front gates driving Edgarton’s green-and-gold van.

She rolled down the window. ‘Hey, kids. Want to go on a field trip?’

As we pulled away, Jason glanced nervously in the passenger-side rear-view mirror, perhaps worried the security guard would give chase and demand we get signed permission slips before leaving campus to kill a Roman emperor. But no one followed us.

‘Where to?’ Piper asked when we reached the highway.

‘Santa Barbara,’ Jason said.

Piper frowned, as if this answer was only slightly more surprising than Uzbekistan. ‘Okay.’

She followed the signs for Highway 101 West.

For once, I hoped traffic would be jammed. I was not in a hurry to see Caligula. Instead, the roads were nearly empty. It was like the Southern California freeway system had heard me complaining and was now out for revenge.

Oh, go right ahead, Apollo! Highway 101 seemed to say. We estimate an easy commute to your humiliating death!

Next to me in the back seat, Meg drummed her fingers on her knees. ‘How much further?’

I was only vaguely familiar with Santa Barbara. I hoped Jason would tell us it was far away – just past the North Pole, maybe. Not that I wanted to be stuck in a van with Meg that long, but at least then we could stop by Camp Jupiter and pick up a squadron of heavily armed demigods.

‘About two hours,’ Jason said, dashing my hopes. ‘Northwest, along the coast. We’re going to Stearns Wharf.’

Piper turned to him. ‘You’ve been there?’

‘I … Yeah. Just scouting the place with Tempest.’

‘Tempest?’ I asked.

‘His horse,’ Piper said, then to Jason: ‘You went scouting there alone?’

‘Well, Tempest is a ventus,’ Jason said, ignoring Piper’s question.

Meg stopped drumming her knees. ‘Like those windy things Medea had?’

‘Except Tempest is friendly,’ Jason said. ‘I kind of … not tamed him, exactly, but we made friends. He’ll show up when I call, usually, and let me ride him.’

‘A wind horse.’ Meg pondered the idea, no doubt weighing its merits against her own demonic diaper-wearing peach baby. ‘I guess that’s cool.’

‘Back to the question,’ Piper said. ‘Why did you decide to scout Stearns Wharf?’

Jason looked so uncomfortable I feared he might blow out the van’s electrical systems.

‘The Sibyl,’ he said at last. ‘She told me I would find Caligula there. It’s one of the places where he stops.’

Piper tilted her head. ‘Where he stops?’

‘His palace isn’t a palace, exactly,’ Jason said. ‘We’re looking for a boat.’

My stomach dropped out and took the nearest exit back towards Palm Springs. ‘Ah,’ I said.

‘Ah?’ Meg asked. ‘Ah, what?’

‘Ah, that makes sense,’ I said. ‘In ancient times, Caligula was notorious for his pleasure barges – huge floating palaces with bathhouses, theatres, rotating statues, racetracks, thousands of slaves …’

I remembered how disgusted Poseidon had been, watching Caligula tootle around the Bay of Baiae, though I think Poseidon was just jealous his palace didn’t have rotating statues.

‘Anyway,’ I said, ‘that explains why you’ve had trouble locating him. He can move from harbour to harbour at will.’

‘Yeah,’ Jason agreed. ‘When I scouted, he wasn’t there. I guess the Sibyl meant I’d find him at Stearns Wharf when I was supposed to find him. Which, I guess, is today.’ He shifted in his seat, leaning as far away as possible from Piper. ‘Speaking of the Sibyl … there’s another detail I didn’t share with you about the prophecy.’

He told Piper the truth about the three-letter word that began with D and was not dog.

She took the news surprisingly well. She did not hit him. She didn’t raise her voice. She merely listened, then remained silent for another mile or so.

At last, she shook her head. ‘That’s quite a detail.’

‘I should’ve told you,’ Jason said.

‘Um, yeah.’ She twisted the steering wheel exactly the way one would break the neck of a chicken. ‘Still … if I’m being honest? In your position, I might’ve done the same thing. I wouldn’t want you to die either.’

Jason blinked. ‘Does that mean you’re not mad?’

‘I’m furious.’

‘Oh.’

‘Furious, but also empathetic.’

‘Right.’

It struck me how easily they talked together, even about difficult things, and how well they seemed to understand each other. I remembered Piper saying how frantic she’d been when she got separated from Jason in the Burning Maze – how she couldn’t bear to lose another friend.

I wondered again what was behind their break-up.

People change, Piper had said.