The Blood of Olympus

XXXVIII

 

 

Reyna

 

 

REYNA HAD NEVER BEEN SO GLAD to see a Cyclops, at least until Tyson set them down and wheeled on Leila and Dakota. ‘Bad Romans!’

 

‘Tyson, wait!’ Reyna said. ‘Don’t hurt them!’

 

Tyson frowned. He was small for a Cyclops, still a child, really – a little over six feet tall, his messy brown hair crusted with salt water, his big single eye the colour of maple syrup. He wore only a swimsuit and a flannel pyjama shirt, like he couldn’t decide whether to go swimming or go to sleep. He exuded a strong smell of peanut butter.

 

‘They are not bad?’ he asked.

 

‘No,’ Reyna said. ‘They were following bad orders. I think they’re sorry for that. Aren’t you, Dakota?’

 

Dakota put his arms up so fast he looked like Superman about to take off. ‘Reyna, I was trying to clue you in! Leila and I planned to switch sides and help you take down Michael.’

 

‘That’s right!’ Leila almost fell backwards over the railing. ‘But, before we could, the Cyclops did it for us!’

 

Coach Hedge snorted. ‘A likely story!’

 

Tyson sneezed. ‘Sorry. Goat fur. Itchy nose. Do we trust Romans?’

 

‘I do,’ Reyna said. ‘Dakota, Leila, you understand what our mission is?’

 

Leila nodded. ‘You want to return that statue to the Greeks as a peace offering. Let us help.’

 

‘Yeah.’ Dakota nodded vigorously. ‘The legion’s not nearly as united as Michael claimed. We don’t trust all the auxilia forces Octavian has gathered.’

 

Nico laughed bitterly. ‘A little late for doubts. You’re surrounded. As soon as Camp Half-Blood is destroyed, those allies will turn on you.’

 

‘So what do we do?’ asked Dakota. ‘We have an hour at most until sunrise.’

 

‘Five fifty-two a.m.,’ said Ella, still perched on the boathouse. ‘Sunrise, Eastern seaboard, August first. Timetables for Naval Meteorology. One hour and twelve minutes is more than one hour.’

 

Dakota’s eye ticked. ‘I stand corrected.’

 

Coach Hedge looked at Tyson. ‘Can we get into Camp Half-Blood safely? Is Mellie all right?’

 

Tyson scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘She is very round.’

 

‘But she’s okay?’ Hedge persisted. ‘She hasn’t given birth yet?’

 

‘ “Delivery occurs at the end of the third trimester”,’ Ella advised. ‘Page forty-three, The New Mother’s Guide to –’

 

‘I gotta get over there!’ Hedge looked like he was ready to jump overboard and swim.

 

Reyna put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Coach, we’ll get you to your wife, but let’s do it right. Tyson, how did you and Ella get out to this ship?’

 

‘Rainbow!’

 

‘You … took a rainbow?’

 

‘He is my fish pony friend.’

 

‘A hippocampus,’ Nico advised.

 

‘I see.’ Reyna thought for a moment. ‘Could you and Ella escort the coach back to Camp Half-Blood safely?’

 

‘Yes!’ Tyson said. ‘We can do that!’

 

‘Good. Coach, go see your wife. Tell the campers I plan to fly the Athena Parthenos to Half-Blood Hill at sunrise. It’s a gift from Rome to Greece, to heal our divisions. If they could refrain from shooting me out of the sky, I’d be grateful.’

 

‘You got it,’ Hedge said. ‘But what about the Roman legion?’

 

‘That’s a problem,’ Leila said gravely. ‘Those onagers will blast you out of the sky.’

 

‘We’ll need a distraction,’ Reyna said. ‘Something to delay the attack on Camp Half-Blood and preferably put those weapons out of commission. Dakota, Leila, will your cohorts follow you?’

 

‘I – I think so, yes,’ Dakota said. ‘But if we ask them to commit treason –’

 

‘It isn’t treason,’ Leila said. ‘Not if we’re acting on direct orders from our praetor. And Reyna is still praetor.’

 

Reyna turned to Nico. ‘I need you to go with Dakota and Leila. While they’re stirring trouble in the ranks, trying to delay the attack, you have to find a way to sabotage those onagers.’

 

Nico’s smile made Reyna glad he was on her side. ‘My pleasure. We’ll buy you time to deliver the Athena Parthenos.’

 

‘Um …’ Dakota shuffled his feet. ‘Even if you get the statue to the hill, what’s to stop Octavian from destroying it once it’s in place? He’s got lots of firepower, even without the onagers.’

 

Reyna peered up at the ivory face of Athena, veiled beneath camouflage netting. ‘Once the statue is returned to the Greeks … I think it will be difficult to destroy. It has great magic. It has simply chosen not to use it yet.’

 

Leila bent down slowly and retrieved her sword, keeping her eyes on the Athena Parthenos. ‘I’ll take your word for it. What do we do with Michael?’

 

Reyna regarded the snoring mountain of Hawaiian demigod. ‘Put him in your boat. Don’t hurt him or bind him. I have a feeling Michael’s heart is in the right place. He just had the bad luck of being sponsored by the wrong person.’

 

Nico sheathed his black sword. ‘You sure about this, Reyna? I don’t like leaving you alone.’

 

Blackjack whinnied and licked the side of Nico’s face.

 

‘Gah! Okay, I’m sorry.’ Nico wiped off the horse spit. ‘Reyna’s not alone. She’s got a herd of excellent pegasi.’

 

Reyna couldn’t help but smile. ‘I’ll be fine. With luck, we’ll all meet again soon enough. We’ll fight side by side against Gaia’s forces. Be careful, and Ave Romae!’

 

Dakota and Leila repeated the cheer.

 

Tyson furrowed his single eyebrow. ‘Who is Ave?’

 

‘It means Go, Romans.’ Reyna clapped the Cyclops’s forearm. ‘But, by all means, Go, Greeks, too.’ The words sounded strange in her mouth.

 

She faced Nico. She wanted to hug him but wasn’t sure the gesture would be welcome. She extended her hand. ‘It’s been an honour questing with you, son of Hades.’

 

Nico’s grip was strong. ‘You’re the most courageous demigod I’ve ever met, Reyna. I –’ He faltered, perhaps realizing he had a large audience. ‘I won’t let you down. See you on Half-Blood Hill.’

 

The sky began to lighten in the east as the group dispersed. Soon Reyna stood on the deck of the Mi Amor … alone except for eight pegasi and a forty-foot-tall Athena.

 

She tried to steady her nerves. Until Nico, Dakota and Leila had time to disrupt the legion’s attack, she couldn’t do anything, but she hated standing around and waiting.

 

Just over that dark line of hills, her comrades in the Twelfth Legion were preparing for a needless attack. If Reyna had stayed with them, she could’ve guided them better. She could’ve kept Octavian in check. Perhaps the giant Orion was correct: she’d failed in her duties.

 

She remembered the ghosts on the balcony in San Juan – pointing at her, whispering accusations: Murderer. Traitor. She remembered the feel of the golden sabre in her hand as she slashed down her father’s spectre – his face full of outrage and betrayal.

 

You are a Ramírez-Arellano! her father used to rant. Never abandon your post. Never let anyone in. Above all, never betray your own!

 

By helping the Greeks, Reyna had done all of those things. A Roman was supposed to destroy her enemies. Instead, Reyna had joined forces with them. She’d left her legion in the hands of a madman.

 

What would her mother say? Bellona, the war goddess …

 

Blackjack must have sensed her agitation. He clopped over and nuzzled her.

 

She stroked his muzzle. ‘I don’t have any treats for you, boy.’

 

He bumped her affectionately. Nico had told her that Blackjack was Percy’s usual ride, but he seemed friendly to everyone. He’d carried the son of Hades without protest. Now he was comforting a Roman.

 

She wrapped her arms around his powerful neck. His coat smelled just like Scipio’s – a mixture of fresh-cut grass and warm bread. She let loose a sob that had been building in her chest. As praetor, she couldn’t show weakness or fear to her comrades. She had to stay strong. But the horse didn’t seem to mind.

 

He nickered gently. Reyna couldn’t understand Horse, but he seemed to say, It’s all right. You’ve done well.

 

She looked up at the fading stars.

 

‘Mother,’ she said, ‘I haven’t prayed to you enough. I’ve never met you. I’ve never asked for your help. But please … this morning, give me the strength to do what is right.’

 

As if on cue, something flashed on the eastern horizon – a light across the Sound, approaching fast like another speedboat.

 

For one elated moment, Reyna thought it was a sign from Bellona.

 

The dark shape got closer. Reyna’s hope turned to dread. She waited too long, paralysed with disbelief, as the figure resolved into a large humanoid, running towards her across the surface of the water.

 

The first arrow struck Blackjack’s flank. The horse collapsed with a shriek of pain.

 

Reyna screamed, but, before she could move, a second arrow hit the deck between her feet. Attached to its shaft was a glowing LED read-out the size of a wristwatch, counting down from 5:00.

 

4:59.

 

4:58.

 

 

 

 

 

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