“You’ve got families here?” he asked.
“In the city, absolutely,” Hazel said. “When you’re accepted into the legion, you do ten years of service. After that, you can muster out whenever you want. Most demigods go into the mortal world. But for some—well, it’s pretty dangerous out there. This valley is a sanctuary. You can go to college in the city, get married, have kids, retire when you get old. It’s the only safe place on earth for people like us. So yeah, a lot of veterans make their homes there, under the protection of the legion.”
Adult demigods. Demigods who could live without fear, get married, raise a family. Percy couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that. It seemed too good to be true. “But if this valley is attacked?”
Hazel pursed her lips. “We have defenses. The borders are magical. But our strength isn’t what it used to be. Lately, the monster attacks have been increasing. What you said about the gorgons not dying…we’ve noticed that too, with other monsters.”
“Do you know what’s causing it?”
Hazel looked away. Percy could tell that she was holding something back—something she wasn’t supposed to say.
“It’s—it’s complicated,” she said. “My brother says Death isn’t—”
She was interrupted by an elephant.
Someone behind them shouted, “Make way!”
Hazel dragged Percy out of the road as a demigod rode past on a full-grown pachyderm covered in black Kevlar armor. The word elephant was printed on the side of his armor, which seemed a little obvious to Percy.
The elephant thundered down the road and turned north, heading toward a big open field where some fortifications were under construction.
Percy spit dust out of his mouth. “What the—?”
“Elephant,” Hazel explained.
“Yeah, I read the sign. Why do you have an elephant in a bulletproof vest?”
“War games tonight,” Hazel said. “That’s Hannibal. If we didn’t include him, he’d get upset.”
“We can’t have that.”
Hazel laughed. It was hard to believe she’d looked so moody a moment ago. Percy wondered what she’d been about to say. She had a brother. Yet she had claimed she’d be alone if the camp sorted her by her godly parent.
Percy couldn’t figure her out. She seemed nice and easy going, mature for somebody who couldn’t have been more than thirteen. But she also seemed to be hiding a deep sadness, like she felt guilty about something.
Hazel pointed south across the river. Dark clouds were gathering over Temple Hill. Red flashes of lightning washed the monuments in blood-colored light.
“Octavian is busy,” Hazel said. “We’d better get over there.”
On the way, they passed some goat-legged guys hanging out on the side of the road.
“Hazel!” one of them cried.
He trotted over with a big grin on his face. He wore a faded Hawaiian shirt and nothing for pants except thick brown goat fur. His massive Afro jiggled. His eyes were hidden behind little round rainbow-tinted glasses. He held a cardboard sign that read: WILL WORK SING TALK go away for denarii.
“Hi, Don,” Hazel said. “Sorry, we don’t have time—”
“Oh, that’s cool! That’s cool!” Don trotted along with them. “Hey, this guy’s new!” He grinned at Percy. “Do you have three denarii for the bus? Because I left my wallet at home, and I’ve got to get to work, and—”
“Don,” Hazel chided. “Fauns don’t have wallets. Or jobs. Or homes. And we don’t have buses.”
“Right,” he said cheerfully, “but do you have denarii?”
“Your name is Don the Faun?” Percy asked.
“Yeah. So?”
“Nothing.” Percy tried to keep a straight face. “Why don’t fauns have jobs? Shouldn’t they work for the camp?”
Don bleated. “Fauns! Work for the camp! Hilarious!”
“Fauns are, um, free spirits,” Hazel explained. “They hang out here because, well, it’s a safe place to hang out and beg. We tolerate them, but—”
“Oh, Hazel is awesome,” Don said. “She’s so nice! All the other campers are like, ‘Go away, Don.’ But she’s like, ‘Please go away, Don.’ I love her!”
The faun seemed harmless, but Percy still found him unsettling. He couldn’t shake the feeling that fauns should be more than just homeless guys begging for denarii.
Don looked at the ground in front of them and gasped. “Score!”
He reached for something, but Hazel screamed, “Don, no!”
She pushed him out of the way and snatched up a small shiny object. Percy caught a glimpse of it before Hazel slipped it into her pocket. He could have sworn it was a diamond.
“Come on, Hazel,” Don complained. “I could’ve bought a year’s worth of doughnuts with that!”
“Don, please,” Hazel said. “Go away.”
She sounded shaken, like she’d just saved Don from a charging bulletproof elephant.
The faun sighed. “Aw, I can’t stay mad at you. But I swear, it’s like you’re good luck. Every time you walk by—”