“Sure,” Frank said in a daze. “There’s probably food in the kitchen. Would you give me a few minutes alone with my grandmother? I think she—”
His voice broke. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry orscream or punch Mars in the glasses—maybe all three.
Hazel laid her hand on his arm. “Of course, Frank. Come on, Ella, Percy.”
Frank waited until his friends’ steps receded. Then he walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
“Is it really you?” he asked Mars. “This isn’t a trick or illusion or something?”
The god shook his head. “You’d prefer it if it wasn’t me?”
“Yes,” Frank confessed.
Mars shrugged. “Can’t blame you. Nobody welcomes war—not if they’re smart. But war finds everyone sooner or later. It’s inevitable.”
“That’s stupid,” Frank said. “War isn’t inevitable. It kills people. It—”
“—took your mom,” Mars finished.
Frank wanted to smack the calm look off his face, but maybe that was just Mars’s aura making him feel aggressive. He looked down at his grandmother, sleeping peacefully. He wished she would wake up. If anyone could take on a war god, his grandmother could.
“She’s ready to die,” Mars said. “She’s been ready for weeks, but she’s holding on for you.”
“For me?” Frank was so stunned he almost forgot his anger. “Why? How could she know I was coming back? I didn’t know!”
“The Laistrygonians outside knew,” Mars said. “I imagine a certain goddess told them.”
Frank blinked. “Juno?”
The war god laughed so loudly the windows rattled, but Grandmother didn’t even stir. “Juno? Boar’s whiskers, kid. Not Juno! You’re Juno’s secret weapon. She wouldn’t sell you out. No, I meant Gaea. Obviously she’s been keeping track of you. I think you worry her more than Percy or Jason or any of the seven.”
Frank felt like the room was tilting. He wished there were another chair to sit in. “The seven…you mean in the ancient prophecy, the Doors of Death? I’m one of the seven? And Jason, and—”
“Yes, yes.” Mars waved his hand impatiently. “Come on, boy. You’re supposed to be a good tactician. Think it through! Obviously your friends are being groomed for that mission too, assuming you make it back from Alaska alive. Juno aims to unite the Greeks and Romans and send them against the giants. She believes it’s the only way to stop Gaea.”
Mars shrugged, clearly unconvinced of the plan. “Anyway, Gaea doesn’t want you to be one of the seven. Percy Jackson…she believes she can control him. All of the others have weaknesses she can exploit. But you—you worry her. She’d rather kill you right away. That’s why she summoned the Laistrygonians. They’ve been here for days, waiting.”
Frank shook his head. Was Mars playing some kind of trick? No way would a goddess be worried about Frank, especially when there was somebody like Percy Jackson to worry about.
“No weaknesses?” he asked. “I’m nothing but weaknesses. My life depends on a piece of wood!”
Mars grinned. “You’re selling yourself short. Anyway, Gaea has these Laistrygonians convinced that if they eat the last member of your family—that being you—they’ll inherit your family gift. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know. But the Laistrygonians are hungry to try.”
Frank’s stomach twisted into a knot. Gray had killed six of the ogres, but judging from the campfires around the property, there were dozens more—all waiting to cook Frank for breakfast.
“I’m going to throw up,” he said.
“No, you’re not.” Mars snapped his fingers, and Frank’s queasiness disappeared. “Battle jitters. Happens to everybody.”
“But my grandmother—”
“Yeah, she’s been waiting to talk to you. The ogres have left her alone so far. She’s the bait, see? Now that you’re here, I imagine they’ve already smelled your presence. They’ll attack in the morning.”
“Get us out of here, then!” Frank demanded. “Snap your fingers and blow up the cannibals.”
“Ha! That would be fun. But I don’t fight my kids’ battles for them. The Fates have clear ideas about what jobs belong to gods, and what has to be done by mortals. This is your quest, kid. And, uh, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, your spear won’t be ready to use again for twenty-four hours, so I hope you’ve learned how to use the family gift. Otherwise, you’re gonna be breakfast for cannibals.”
The family gift. Frank had wanted to talk with Grandmother about it, but now he had no one to consult but Mars. He stared at the war god, who was smiling with absolutely no sympathy.
“Periclymenus.” Frank sounded out the word carefully, like a spelling-bee challenge. “He was my ancestor, a Greek prince, an Argonaut. He died fighting Hercules.”
Mars rolled his hand in a “go on” gesture.
“He had an ability that helped him in combat,” Frank said. “Some sort of gift from the gods. My mom said he fought like a swarm of bees.”