“I’ve been a little busy, Grandmother.”
“No excuse for sloppiness. At any rate, your friends have slept and eaten. They are taking stock of the weapons in the attic. I told them you would be along shortly, but there are too many ogres to fend off for long. We must speak of your escape plan. Look in my nightstand.”
Frank opened the drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope.
“You know the airfield at the end of the park?” Grandmother asked. “Could you find it again?”
Frank nodded mutely. It was about three miles to the north, down the main road through the canyon. Grandmother had taken him there sometimes when she would charter planes to bring in special shipments from China.
“There is a pilot standing by to leave at a moment’s notice,” Grandmother said. “He is an old family friend. I have a letter for him in that envelope, asking him to take you north.”
“But—”
“Do not argue, boy,” she muttered. “Mars has been visiting me these last few days, keeping me company. He told me of your quest. Find Death in Alaska and release him. Do your duty.”
“But if I succeed, you’ll die. I’ll never see you again.”
“That is true,” Grandmother agreed. “But I’ll die anyway. I’m old. I thought I made that clear. Now, did your praetor give you letters of introduction?”
“Uh, yes, but—”
“Good. Show those to the pilot as well. He’s a veteran of the legion. In case he has any doubts, or gets cold feet, those credentials will make him honor-bound to help you in any way possible. All you have to do is reach the airfield.”
The house rumbled. Outside a ball of fire exploded in midair, lighting up the entire room.
“The ogres are getting restless,” Grandmother said. “We must hurry. Now, about your powers, I hope you’ve figured them out.”
“Uh...”
Grandmother muttered some curses in rapid-fire
Mandarin. “Gods of your ancestors, boy! Have you learned nothing?”
“Yes!” He stammered out the details of his discussion with Mars the night before, but he felt much more tongue-tied in front of Grandmother. “The gift of Periclymenus…I think, I think he was a son of Poseidon, I mean Neptune, I mean…” Frank spread his hands. “The sea god.”
Grandmother nodded grudgingly. “He was the grandson of Poseidon, but good enough. How did your brilliant intellect arrive at this fact?”
“A seer in Portland…he said something about my great-grandfather, Shen Lun. The seer said he was blamed for the 1906 earthquake that destroyed San Francisco and the old location of Camp Jupiter.”
“Go on.”
“At camp, they said a descendant of Neptune had caused the disaster. Neptune is the god of earthquakes. But…but I don’t think great-grandfather actually did it. Causing earthquakes isn’t our gift.”
“No,” Grandmother agreed. “But yes, he was blamed. He was unpopular as a descendant of Neptune. He was unpopular because his real gift was much stranger than causing earthquakes. And he was unpopular because he was Chinese. A Chinese boy had never before claimed Roman blood. An ugly truth—but there is no denying it. He was falsely accused, forced out in shame.”
“So…if he didn’t do anything wrong, why did you tell me to apologize for him?”
Grandmother’s cheeks flushed. “Because apologizing for something you didn’t do is better than dying for it! I wasn’t sure if the camp would hold you to blame. I did not know if the prejudice of the Romans had eased.”
Frank swallowed down his breakfast. He’d been teased in school and on the streets sometimes, but not that much, and never at Camp Jupiter. Nobody at camp, not once, had made fun of him for being Asian. Nobody cared about that. They only made fun of him because he was clumsy and slow. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like for his great-grandfather, accused of destroying the entire camp, drummed out of the legion for something he didn’t do.
“And our real gift?” Grandmother asked. “Have you at least figured out what it is?”
His mother’s old stories swirled in Frank’s head. Fighting like a swarm of bees. He was the greatest dragon of all. He remembered his mother’s appearing next to him in the backyard, as if she’d flown from the attic. He remembered her coming out of the woods, saying that she’d given a mama grizzly bear directions.
“You can be anything,” Frank said. “That’s what she always told me.”
Grandmother huffed. “Finally, a dim light goes on in that head of yours. Yes, Fai Zhang. Your mother was not simply boosting your self-esteem. She was telling you the literal truth.”
“But…” Another explosion shook the house. Ceiling plaster fell like snow. Frank was so bewildered he barely noticed.